Places of Worship--Now With Pictures!

And now I'm in Cork--I would have written from Dublin this morning, but the hostel's computer wouldn't let me update the blog. That's really too bad, because I woke up at 6:00 AM, something that should knock anyone who knows my sleeping habits on their butts in astonishment. Don't expect it to happen again; it was the result of sleeping from 5:00-11:00 in the hostel and then going to bed again at 12:00 after a burger and a pint at the pub.

The Spire or "Spike" in Dublin City

After getting into Dublin City, I set off with a tourist (read: cheap as possible) map to see the sights. I walked almost exclusively to save on bus or taxi fare, which also helped me see a lot of the normal city streets.

First stop was St. Patrick's Cathedral, where Jonathan Swift was the dean for a while. It's a little difficult for me to grasp how amazingly detailed and fine the European cathedrals are--I don't think anything like them is built anymore. Every inch is covered with amazingly fine workmanship in tiles, tapestries, windows, etc., and you only realize it when you get up close. I know a lot is made of the opulence of the Catholic church, and I agree with some of that, but I'm still grateful that something made so many people work so hard to produce this stuff.

Next I went straight for the booze, to the Guinness Storehouse. Appropriate, right? It's a huge place, full of the most ridiculous marketing blitz I have ever seen. Everything is about how amazing, precious, and sacred Guinness is. There are secret recepies, prized ingredients, and mythical sources of yeast locked in safes, to the point of being a little laughable. I mean, the stuff is good, but....

Anyway, you have to walk up seven floors of exhibits and factoids and posters and models to get to the Gravity Bar, perched atop the buildings which lets you look out across Dublin in every direction. I will say that the way Guinness has managed to brand itself over the years is pretty genius--they've really made the beer into a cultural icon.

They finally let me have my beer

After the Storehouse I caught a bus to Kilmainhaim Gaol, which was excellent and should not be missed if you're ever in Dublin. The jail, restored in the 1960s after being abandoned in the 20s, is a great monument and illustration of prison reform and practice in the 19th century; however, what became increasingly apparent is that it is most famous for hosting the executions of the leaders of the Sinn Fein rebellion, or the Easter Rising, in 1916. All their cells are marked, and there is a reverance towards their stories, all of which are pretty cool. I realized that many of the major streets and trains stations in Dublin are named after the leaders as well. The tour guide made it clear that the rebellion didn't garner much sympathy until the men were executed, making them martyrs as they remain to this day. Interesting stuff.

Look up Bentham's "Panopticon", read for a few days, and then look at this picture again

After my sightseeing, it was back to the hostel to crash and rest my feet. This morning I pulled myself together and got on the train to Cork to meet my friend Cait. On the train, I started talking to a young guy named Rob. It was good, but holy hell can these people talk. We were talking (he was talking) for 2 and a half hours.

Met up with Cait at the train station and got set up at her place--a night at the pub is the plan tonight, and I couldn't be happier. Look for pictures soon, and don't be afraid to leave a few comments. It's always good to hear from people while on the road.

GO ROCKIES.