Waking up in Dublin was a joy. A partially-cloudy sky provided enough sunlight to brighten the metropolis.
Best of all, we had an entire silent night of undisturbed sleep. Despite being in the most-populated city in the nation, there were no noisy trucks with badly-sounding engines. No blaring sirens (European sirens are more subdued and aren't used unless needed, whereas American ambulances and fire trucks drive slowly—as if paid by the hour—while keeping their sirens wailing during the entire time). No boisterous truck engines. No jackhammering for road-work. No psychotic screams from homeless people roaming the streets. No frenzied car horns at 7am due to unchanged traffic congestion. It was heavenly.
*To hear what we experience every week of our lives in NYC, please use this link: https://halfwindsorfullthrottle.blogspot.com/2021/11/local-noise-pollution.html
Turning on the television, Lewis and I started our day listening to an Irish talk-show.
Unlike daytime talk shows on American TV, it lacked drama, arguments, and sensationalism. In fact, it consisted of sensible interviews, home-remedy tips, a telephone call-in trivia game (that dispensed worthwhile prizes), and reported on urban developments. During the trivia segment, the hosts mentioned how they were recently questioned by an American who disliked their lack of competitiveness. One of the hosts laughed and said, "For Americans, it probably seems odd that we don't focus on winners being better than losers, but we enjoy maintaining a program with our values". The twinkle in his eyes hinted at his intelligence. We agreed because we detest American programs that focus on back-stabbing, theatrical dramatics, and phony suspense from in-fighting. We don't know why Americans like having that type of violent drama in their homes? Qualities found on Irish TV programs are indicative of a sensible society.
Even more pleasing, the TV commercials lack the pushiness and fake-urgency to "Buy Now" "Hurry While Supplies Last" "Call Now" that plague American ads. There are vastly less advertisements for lawsuits, cars, car insurance, and pharmaceuticals. Instead, there were ads for well-made food. In America, regardless of the time-of-day or TV channel, the same ads are monotonous and unchanged. It’s similar to living in the Soviet Union with state-controlled media. You have no choice of which ads you see because they are everywhere. You are forced to view the same commercials by only a few conglomerates/industries. We prefer Irish TV networks!
Lewis and I descended to the lobby and greeted the hotel staff at the Front Desk.
Nobody says “Top of the morning!” That’s an ignorant saying from Hollywood movies and American televisions. If an uneducated American says that, the Irish might sigh and give a long-suffering eyeroll.
Waving goodbye to the smiley hotel staff, Lewis and I exited and got to the corner of the street. We were astonished to see construction crews crammed into the narrow-historic lane near our hotel. Cranes pivoted overhead, trucks unloaded, a forklift moved back-and-forth, and workers were everywhere. Yet, it was remarkably quiet! We couldn't believe it. I was tempted to video-record it because nothing like that happened in our lives in USA! It reminded us of seeing construction and roadwork in Berlin and London: the technology and tools operated quietly, and the work lacked the rowdy noise-pollution that is ever-present at American construction sites. It seemed like a miracle to hear modern machinery that didn't rumble and roar like jet engines. Equally miraculous (for people coming from America), the workers included women! Hooray for equality! Furthermore, they didn't dress like the slobs in the USA; their orange-reflective uniforms were tidy. In fact, the entire work site was tidy. It lacked the debris and discarded garbage seen in the USA. (Every night, the site was swept/cleaned so rubble or debris was not an inconvenience to pedestrians. Unless you live in Beverly Hills, that doesn't happen in the vast USA). I mention this because we never heard noise from the construction, despite it being around the corner from the hotel. That is excellent infrastructure... as it should be.
A sign on one of the trucks said "Considerate Constructors".
We sauntered to the nearest tram stop at Four Courts, merely three short streets from our hotel. It is named for the Supreme Court, Court of Appeal, High Court, and Circuit Court that exist there. Facing the water, their Neoclassical buildings were erected in 1786.
Across the river, it aligns with Winetavern Street that has Viking origins when they settled in the area. On our side of the river, the scenery was very pretty. We saw several barristers and judges wearing their robes and wigs, as they went to work. In 1995, Ireland's laws changed to allow barristers (legal lawyers) to abstain from wigs, but judges continue to wear them.
Lewis and I love riding on trams. Dublin has a tram network that it successfully maintained since 1872. Many European cities succumbed to America's peer-pressure to get rid of trams and become dependent on (American) automobiles and (American-sourced) petroleum. Yet, Dubliners resisted that. Their tram system is named Luas, which is the Gaelic word for "Leap", and that is symbolic of the system's speed. Truly, the trams accelerate swiftly and arrive promptly.
Powered increasingly by renewable energy, the tram network consists of two routes that crisscross once, and that intersection was near our hotel. Using the longest trams in the world, the routes are extensive and are intended to serve the outer-city suburbs, which is great. With a residential population of 550,000, Dublin surely invests in its infrastructure. (Including visitors, the system carries 48 million riders every year).
Delightfully dependable, the trams always arrived within 4 minutes of each other. We only experienced one delay "due to a malfunction" (but during that time, the tram still arrived within 10 minutes). In Dublin, we never saw anybody running through the street to catch a tram, nor did we see anyone shoving through a crowd in a frenzied effort to catch a bus. That is because public transportation is plentiful and punctual. Trams and buses carry citizens around the landscape effectively. Nobody waits a long time for them, and they arrive punctually.
(When public transit is on-time, crowds do not accumulate. Riders are never worried about when the next train or bus will arrive. People do not feel compelled to be aggressive to get on a bus or train—fearful that the next one might be 30-minutes late. Efficient public transportation ensures that there are less cars on the roads. Consequently, there is less chances for traffic jams or road congestion).
The trams were nice and quiet. For comparison, please turn on the sound for these videos of NYC's subways, which are so unclean that their brakes sound like fingernails scratching on chalkboards... every day for the past several years. Those dirty wheels screech louder than an Irish banshee!
We had Seven Day Unlimited Transit Cards. If you use buses, you tap your cards on validating machines inside the bus whenever you get on or off. However, if you use trams, you must tap your card on validator machines located on the platforms before you get on a tram. After exiting, riders tap their cards on the validators again, and that calculates how much to deduct from their prepaid transit accounts. Unlimited Cards are still required to be validated for statistics.
It was refreshing for New Yorkers like us to see the rules being enforced in Dublin for public transportation. Acting as transit police, Luas Security Personnel were often seen patrolling tram platforms and randomly hopping aboard trams to ensure that riders behave.
Providing further orderliness, pairs of Garda officers also rode the trams to randomly patrol them and maintain order. Great! In one week, Lewis and I saw more police on Dublin's rail system than we see in NYC during half a year! (NYC overpays to have the world's biggest police force, plus it overpays extra for a specialized Transit Police... yet we rarely see them on trains. There is daily crime on NYC's trains). We prefer Dublin's sensible arrangement.
We also saw Luas employees (wearing red reflective vests) appear randomly to scan everyone's Transit Card to ensure that passengers paid. That is a fine idea. (Since NYC uses obsolete systems and resists investing in infrastructure, that is impossible... so hundreds of people jump the turnstiles and ride without paying). We admire Dublin's methods.
Consequently, trams were always orderly and clean. We never saw homeless people loitering or "living" on trams, as we do on NYC's subway trains. Each day, we rode trams several times, and we only saw one person eating on a tram (which is not allowed), and we only saw one tram with scraps of food on the floor. That was hugely better than the daily slobs and sloppiness that we witness on NYC's expensive subway system. Twice, beggars pestered passengers who waited on the platforms, but they never got on the trams. Sensibly, passengers never put their feet on the seats or laid on them, or tried to panhandle for donations.
For comparison, in overpriced NYC, we regularly see rude passengers put their dirty shoes on the seats...
We were amazed by the wonderfully-dedicated Charter to Passengers that the LUAS system upholds. These items were our favorites:
1. Provide you with real-time passenger information 99% of the time
2. Respond to your letters and emails within one week
3. Provide you with a 99% reliable tram service and publish our performance every 12 weeks
4. Ensure that LUAS meets the highest standards of accessibility
5. Clean the trams every night, and clean every tram stop at least once a day
6. Provide you with an environmentally-friendly transport option, releasing 3.5 times less CO2 than using a car for the trip
(None of that ever happens in America's richest city. Does your local transit company offer that type of professionalism?).
It was a joy to use Dublin's mass transportation!
The sleek tram paused in Dublin's Smithfield neighborhood at a station named Museum, and we exited. We proceeded to an eatery named Wuff, which is a Breakfast Restaurant. That's something we first experienced in Berlin, last year. Those types of restaurants serve a breakfast menu for the whole day. Wuff is a corner-property on Benburb Sreet and Blackhall Place, and its big windows let sunshine fill a spacious room.
When we travel, we prefer to go to places that the locals go to.
Despite being mid-morning on Friday, plenty of Dubliners were breakfasting at Wuff. Luckily, we only had to wait for five minutes for a table. During that time, we ogled a group of athletic men celebrating someone's birthday, and the "birthday boy" wore a diaper over his football shorts! His muscled legs were eye-catching, as he strode past us without embarrassment.
"Woof" indeed!
We also watched customers form a queue for the Sidewalk Window, where they bought coffees.
We observed that many young guys wore the same haircut: a new trend of curly tops and buzzed/faded sides.
The sidewalk seating was full, and we noticed two waitresses delivering food and pints of beer to them. Yes, a few guys drank beer at 10am. Other tables were occupied by folks who only desire a coffee; they paused in their day to sip it and watch passersby, and then they departed.
Another improvement from American coffeeshops is that the Irish ones don't overcharge customers for anything "extra". In our current neighborhood of Astoria (which is less costly than Manhattan), the use of a flavored syrup (merely two squirts from a giant bottle) costs $1.00, and the inclusion of a non-dairy milk in your latte costs $1.00. (So, if you're lactose-intolerant or dislike America's polluted Diary Industry, you must pay extra). If you want ice, it costs another $1.00. (Then, there is the $1.00 of expected gratuity). Who wants to overpay for that greed? (Please realize that each additional fee is a 90% mark-up of what you are getting!)
Far different from American coffeeshops that are full of silent people studiously working on their laptops...
...the Irish café was full of vibrant conversations and socializing. Nobody brought a laptop to work on. Even the gay guys refrained from keeping their eyes glued to their phones (like American ones do).
People chose to commiserate, instead of toil on their small screens. They weren’t compelled to overwork themselves. They weren’t addicted to sensory distraction. They possessed Life/Work Balance!
Our waiter was a young Irishman with Chinese facial features named Henry. With the utmost pleasantness, he took my coffee order and fetched two glasses of freshly-squeezed orange juice. The barista presented a perfectly pulled/tamped latte, and its non-GMO Irish milk didn't make my stomach gurgle, as it does with industrial American milk. (It's a relief to go abroad and enter any eatery and ingest normal milk of reliable quality).
Eating in Ireland involves holding the fork in the left hand and the knife in the right. We do that, too. But most Americans obstinately insist on using the inconvenient method of shifting the fork between their left and right hands. America might be the only country that still does that. Try the convenient way.
I ordered a Full Irish Breakfast, which is the National Meal of Ireland. Wuff's version included two poached eggs, a pork & leek sausage, rashers of bacon that were sizzled on the griddle, a potato & chive patty, white pudding, black pudding (famously produced in the town of Clonakilty), house-baked beans, and sourdough toast.
While Black Pudding includes animal blood for coloring, White Pudding is recipe of oatmeal, suet, and pork. Both originated in ancient Roman civilization.
Lewis ate Chorizo Eggs Benedict, with handmade Hollandaise sauce ladled on top.
Feeling hungry, he requested a plate of sautéed mushrooms. Everything was marvelous!
Since we sat at a table by the front windows, we were aware of when trams passed outside.
Indicative of modern infrastructure (that is designed to benefit the community), the modern trams were so quiet that nobody heard them. They didn't rattle the windows. It was marvelous! Back in overpriced boroughs of New York City, buses have bad engines that make them depart with the loud roar of a jet on a runway. Here is a video of them (turn on the sound)...
Even worse, subways are elevated over roads on badly-maintained trestles that create boisterous rumbling when trains go by. Seen below, if you spend money to eat/drink in eateries along those above-ground subway tracks, you can't avoid the noise pollution and rattling vibrations from trains.
Dublin is more sophisticated and efficient than that. Please enjoy my brief video of the Dublin trams outside the restaurant (turn the sound on)...
The affordable cost of our satisfying meal was €37.20. Lewis gave the waitstaff a tip of €5.
Credit card readers are still unused in thousands of NYC restaurants… despite increased spikes in identity theft and credit card fraud (existing for its third year). America leads the world in identity theft and fraudulent online charges, yet Americans stupidly hand their credit cards to strangers (servers) who walk away with them.
Uncaring businesses in America resist investing in tap-and-go technology to preserve their customers' security.
In Ireland, all of our meals and drinks were paid via portable credit card readers that servers brought to us. Our cards never left our sight.
Fortified with a hearty meal, we walked one kilometer to Phoenix Park. Along the way, we noticed Dublin's coat of arms emblazoned on the bases of streetlights.
Created 400 years ago, the coat of arms includes flame-illuminated watchtowers (lighthouses) that represented the three ancient gates into the original Viking settlement. They are flanked by two women: Justice holds a sword and scales, while Law holds an olive branch that is indicative of peace/friendship. Words on the scroll say "Obedience of the citizens produces a happy city". Clearly, Dubliners understand that simple logic.
We observed that logo in many places and on a variety of municipal fixtures.
Lewis and I arrived at the 1,750-acre park. Phoenix Park is the largest city-center park in Europe. The Irish Parliament is lobbying UNESCO to secure it as a World Heritage Site. It was incredible, and we're glad that we explored half of it.
Lewis and I decided to explore the terrain with bikes. In a repurposed gatehouse on Chesterfield Avenue, Phoenix Park Bikes rents bicycles.
After signing-in on their website, we got two. The price was €7 for an hour, or €25 for the entire day. (That's indicative of Ireland's priority of cycling and low-emissions travel).
Smartly, Ireland encourages cycling as a daily method of transportation. Unlike the USA (which is controlled by its greedy Car Makers), it doesn't instill a negative stigma on people who use bicycles.
It's bike lanes are tidy and safe, and they have their own traffic lights.
We began by pedaling on Chesterfield Avenue, using the bike lanes parallel to traffic. No car horns were heard. It was as serene as biking in the countryside (and their electric car engines helped). Leading the way, Lewis swerved to the left and ventured along a hilly route.
Clouds began to obscure the sun, but we pumped our legs onward. Lewis and I veered along another tree-lined street named Wellington Road.
We paused in a valley and encountered a "castle on hill". Actually, it was Magazine Fort, first built in 1611 (when "magazine" meant "ammunition holder"). It looks like this...
Here is my video of the scenery...
Just then, a light rain started. Unlike other Americans who scurry for shelter during a mere drizzle, we didn't flinch. You cannot be afraid of a little rain; your clothes will dry.
*If you think life in NYC is sunnier than the British Isles, you are wrong. Please use this link to see my side-by-side comparison:
https://halfwindsorfullthrottle.blogspot.com/2022/10/comparative-summers-new-york-city.html
We rode along a bike path, and we enjoyed its curvy smoothness. As my loden-green coat moistened, I spotted a herd of fallow deer! I was astounded!
Ringing the bell on my handlebar, I signaled for Lewis to stop. We were both mesmerized by what we saw. Leaving our bikes on their kickstands...
...we slowly approached the deer. Born as a Manhattanite "city boy", Lewis was ecstatic because it was his second time seeing wild deer up-close: the first time was in London. It's remarkable that both capitals sustain and preserve their wild deer in public parks. He and I are animal-lovers, so we are thrilled by such things. The gentle and handsome creatures let us get quite close. It was awesome!
Here is Lewis' panoramic video of them...
The deer remain as residents of the park since 1662 when the area was designated as a Royal Deer Park by James Butler, the second Duke of Ormond.
Soon, several other cyclists paused to join us. A few people broke the rules and fed the deer; we did not.
We watched the animals take the food gingerly but leap away afterwards. The herd was sizable. In the distance, we heard two bucks banging their antlers in frolicsome play. The sound echoed across the meadow. We savored several minutes in awe of Nature. The animals were beautiful and graceful.
Then, the oldest male crossed the bike path and climbed a hill to a grove of evergreen trees. Eventually, the entire herd followed.
Going to retrieve our bicycles, I paused and crouched down to examine the greenery underfoot. I showed Lewis that the hillsides were full of clover, and we saw clusters of shamrocks (sprigs of young clover).
Begun in the 1700s, shamrocks are emblematic of Ireland, just as roses symbolize England. During the 5th-century, Ireland's patron saint, St Patrick, allegedly used shamrocks to help the laity understand the Holy Trinity. Nowadays, finding a four-leaf clover is a sign of good luck.
*To see when we studied the rose symbols in England, please use this link:
https://halfwindsorfullthrottle.blogspot.com/2022/09/our-return-to-london-uk-part-2-of-6.html
Moments later, we saw a bright cluster of daffodils in the lush grass. It was a beautiful sight that signaled the absence of winter.
(Back in New York—which is farther south and closer to the equator—we didn't see Springtime daffodils until 30 days later. An entire month. Even then, the windchill made the temperature feel like 25-degrees! Somehow, NYC has tainted weather throughout the year, while Dublin is cooler in Summer and warmer in Winter. The Irish have weather that we prefer).
Mounting our bikes, we began to ride away. Ahead, I saw another guy feeding a deer, and I anticipated that the deer would jump out in front of me, after it got the food. I was correct, so I stopped before the deer bounded across the bike lane. That saved Lewis, too. Then, we continued blissfully and passed the Phoenix Cricket Club.
As we returned our bicycles, a red-haired woman asked if we were impacted by the passing rain shower? We assured her that we were fine, and we didn't mind it. We were more engrossed with the deer. Smiling grandly, she said, "That is Ireland welcoming you with everything that she has! You got a real experience." We're glad that we did. In addition, our cycling built up our appetites again.
Retracing our steps, we noticed shamrocks in various places! They were emblazoned on mailboxes, and others were emblems on municipal lampposts.
Riding a tram, we went to the tram stop named Museum because it was near the National Museum of Ireland on Kildare Street.
From the sidewalk, we climbed the stone steps to get there.
Located in the Arbour Hill neighborhood, it's housed in a historic building from 1702.
In the 1600s, the land was owned by the famous Butler family: one of Ireland's oldest. They had a palace there.
Originally, the land was known as Oxmantown Green. It was presented by the City Fathers to James Butler: the 12th Earl of Ormond who later got promoted to being the 1st Duke of Ormond. It was done in recognition of his participation on the Royalist side of the Rebellion of 1641, and for negotiating the peace treaty of religious tolerance in 1646 between the rebellious Catholic Confederacy and the Crown.
In 1701, Queen Anne of Great Britain & Ireland bought part of the land to erect a military barracks. Impressively, it was designed by Thomas de Burgh, who was the architect of the Old Library at nearby Trinity College. After serving the British and Irish armies for three centuries, it was the oldest continuously occupied one in the world. The stately barracks remains as the oldest public building in Dublin. (*Trivia: Queen Anne's County in Maryland is named for her).
The courtyard was originally named Ormond's Enclosure. Nowadays, it is only occupied by a vintage van that dispensed refreshments.
The admission for the museum is free to everyone, because Ireland graciously values art and culture as priorities for its population, so it makes them accessible. Founded in 1877, the museum is divided into two sections: Decorative Arts and Military History. We chose the Decorative Arts, which included world-renown Irish crystal, handmade sterling silver, furniture, interior design, clockmaking, historic outfits, folklife, Asian art, ceramics, and jewelry craftsmanship (including a necklace made from bone)!
An entire level was dedicated to glorious couture by Ireland's amazing designers... especially a gentleman named Ib Jorgensen! He was born in the Nordic nation of Denmark, and his family relocated to Ireland when he was a boy. During his schooling, he developed an aptitude for sewing and tailoring. He focused on designing clothing, and his success was longstanding: fanciful yet well-finished. Idolizing his beadwork, these were our favorite creations from his repertoire...
I noticed that the proprietor of the museum's Gift Shop was starting to shut her doors, so I urged Lewis inside so we could purchase souvenirs. The shop was impressive, and the woman (an Italian who relocated to Ireland and worked there for 16 years) was content to offer assistance. With good manners, she didn't act bothered that we entered before her lunchtime. She assured us that we could browse leisurely. Another couple entered, too.
Impressively (and as it should be), all of the souvenirs were made in Ireland. Unlike the USA, things weren't manufactured in China. (It seems idiotic to buy a replica of the Statue of Liberty or a miniature American flag—that is made in China). [Incidentally, China makes high-quality items, but greedy/cheap American companies only request things that are the cheapest to make, so America is inundated with low-quality items from China]. Last year, we noticed the same national pride in England.
I was enamored with a slew of hand-woven scarves, made of Irish wool. With amazing softness, they had eye-catching plaid and tartan patterns in lovely color-combinations. They were woven by John Hanly & Company at the Ballyartella Woollen Mills in Tipperary, Ireland. The manufacturer was founded in 1893 in a repurposed flour mill that used a water-wheel in the River Nenagh. The fourth generation of the Hanly family operate the business. Using natural raw fibers, they ensure that the material comes from ethical farmers who use sustainable methods. Their mill's turbine is hydro-powered, so they generate their own electricity via a renewable source.
With a professionalism that you don't see at pricier producers, they offer scarves in lengths of short, medium, and long. That's impressive. Does your local luxury retailer offer scarf lengths?
I bought a lambswool scarf with a grassy-green hue that was highlighted with a plaid made of pink, blue, saffron, beige, and chestnut-brown. According to the label, the tartan of my scarf is from Collection # 281.
Lewis chose a lambswool scarf that was patterned with grey and black tartan. Both cost €25. They are souvenirs for a lifetime!
For €5, I also bought a hand-cast pewter pin shaped like an ancient Celtic triangle that originated during the Iron Age. It is named "The Spiral", and it symbolizes natural growth and eternal life. Many Celtic symbols have shapes characterized by a balance of form, symmetry, delicacy, spirals, and interlacing parts. (I adorn my sweaters and coat lapels with it, and I get compliments)!
*(When we returned to the museum, five days later, the same woman was overjoyed to see us wearing our new scarves. It truly made her happy that we enjoyed them).
Departing from the wondrous museum, we rode a tram towards our hotel, put our gifts away, and boarded another tram to the transfer point from the (east/west) Red Line to the (north/south) Green Line. We exited the Red Line at Abbey Street and walked around the corner for southbound Green Line trams on Marlborough Street. We validated our transit cards again and hopped aboard the next tram. It glided quietly over the river via Rosie Hackett Bridge, and we exited at Harcourt. Here is my video of the efficient tramway...
We must compliment the ingenious handles/poles that are centered in Dublin's trams! They make communal usage very easy. NYC needs those.
Wherever possible, we recommend the trams as faster options than buses. Nonetheless, Dublin's double-decker buses were all modern, sleek, immaculate, and punctual. We love riding in the tops of double-decker buses!
The pretty area is surrounded by the embassies for Estonia, the island-nation of Malta, and the island-nation of Cyprus.
We walked east along Iveagh Gardens, which is a national park (not just a city park). It's quite pretty, but the gates are locked at night. It began as the private garden of the Earl of Clonmell. A tunnel gave him access from his mansion, across the street.
We continued to the National Concert Hall (NCH). Before our trip, Lewis went online to purchase tickets to a concert there.
The lights of the capital looked brilliant against an ink-blue sky. Instead of angry car horns and exhaust from Rush Hour traffic congestion, we only heard the tingling of bike bells by cycling commuters, the clickclack of people strolling towards their dinnertimes, and the respectable clang-clang of passing trams. It was a great way to start our Friday night.
We had time to spare, so we crossed the street, named Earlsfort Terrace, and entered the 5-star Conrad Hotel. As one of Hilton's three luxury brands, Conrad Hotels are reflections of classiness.
It was nice to enter a ritzy hotel without smokey steam vents being in front of it (as seen below outside of NYC's St. Regis Hotel and the Peninsula Hotel).
The lavish lobby was staffed with eight employees, who seemed ready to assist anyone with anything.
We went up to its bar, named Lemeul's. We sat on plush leather barstools that were closest to the bartenders.
Half full with people, the room was sleekly decorated and illuminated with dozens of flickering candles.
Wearing tweed vests, the bartenders presented us with cocktail menus and glasses of water (on coasters). In fact, every time that we went to a pub or cocktail bar, our drinks were always presented on top of coasters. Very classy.
Both of us ordered €16 cocktails made with Gunpowder Gin, black tea, various herbal liqueurs, and tropical juices. They were delectable!
It was lovely to merely cross the street to arrive at the concert hall. Built in 1865, the huge building retains its stately style. It was illuminated with purple spotlights.
Immediately on the right side of the lobby is its restaurant, named the Terrace Cafe. We had reservations, in preparation for a concert upstairs. After walking 6 miles throughout the day, we were hungry. The dining rooms were nearly full, and every table seemed cheerful.
Unseen at any "eateries" within NYC's Lincoln Center (performing arts center), it had candles on every table. The maître d' named Kevin escorted us to a deuce in the center of the room. His voice got even more chipper when we realized that we were American. He inquired cordially if we liked the capital of the island-nation where he was born? We did. To relate to the man, Lewis revealed that he was also born on an island named Manhattan. The maître d' was further wowed!
Indicative of an "accepting culture", the bartender in the posh room had his hair styled into a mohawk. Nobody disliked him for it. The menu was well-crafted, and it relied on seasonal, locally-sourced ingredients. Considerately, the names of rare-breed farmers and specialist suppliers were mentioned. It proved to be a "symphony" of culinary supremacy before our symphonic concert!
Starting our meal, the assortment of oven-fresh bread and creamy butter were perfect. Costing €15 each, our appetizers were Pea & Truffle Risotto, topped with large shavings of aged parmesan...
...and Bay Shrimps sautéed in wine broth with toast.
For dinner, I ate €29 12-hour slow-braised Beef Short Ribs with horseradish mashed potatoes and red wine jus.
Lewis loved his €28 portion of baked Cod, with roasted baby potatoes, mussels, samphire, and beurre blanc sauce. Every mouthful was lovely and flavorful.
For dessert, we shared a €9 jar of Passionfruit Pannacotta, with shortbread sables and Bing Cherry sorbet. It was perfectly jiggly—just as Lewis prefers—and quite tasty.
*Trivia: Bing cherries were developed as a species in 1875 by a horticulturist from Oregon named Seth Luelling and his foreman: an immigrant from Manchuria named Bing.
Our splendid meal was a wonderful way to begin a night of music... and within the same building! You cannot do that in Manhattan because Lincoln Center's Philharmonic Concert Hall has overpriced "eateries" that serve microwaved frozen food that is mass-produced with low-quality ingredients. Despite being the most expensive city in the world, Manhattan's performing arts center has nothing of the caliber that we found in Dublin.
It was a joy to dine inside the theatre and merely go upstairs for our concert. Such convenience! This is a civilized society.
Lewis and I attended that concert because it celebrated the 75th Anniversary of the National Symphony Orchestra! It's the largest professional orchestra in Ireland. Attentive ushers were everywhere, so it was immensely easy to have our e-tickets scanned and navigate to our seats. Previously, Lewis chose our seats in the "Choir Balcony" (near the pipe organ) overlooking the orchestra, so we could see the conductor's face.
From Hong Kong, Lio Kuokman has enthusiasm that evokes magic, and when he led the orchestra, he swooped, arched, and gestured grandly.
Our seats were very close to the instrumentalists, and we had an unobstructed view.
In Dublin, it was great to sit in a theatre that invested smartly in its infrastructure. Growing up near NYC's Lincoln Center, Lewis laments its long-suffering forlorn qualities. Focused more on money-making, the New York Philharmonic performs in a hall that suffers from two names, due to two donors: Wu Tsai Theater at David Geffen Hall. They wasted millions of dollars for the legalities of putting their names on the structure, and they neglected the actual infrastructure, eateries, lavatories, usher uniforms, chandeliers, and seating. After $150 million was absconded by unionized swindlers and "consultants", the overpriced theater still has scuffed walls, chipped railings, flaking paint, outdated lights, seats without legroom, and paltry eateries serving defrosted entrees at $45 each. It's so bad that after the last money-wasting fundraiser, the conductor resigned and joined the nearby Juilliard School of Music.
Seen below, the Irish concert kicked-off vivaciously!
The music was full of flourishes and whimsy from Mozart and a Polish woman named Grazyna Bacewicz who created music during World War Two. The guest violinist was Francesca Dego.
We loved every musical note and every minute of the performance. The fabulous orchestra was sublime. Afterwards, we drank free champagne in the lobby. Dubliners and dignitaries clinked glasses together and toasted to the great concert.
As Lewis and I walked back to the tram stop, we heard the lively hubbub emanating from The Odeon restaurant, which had loudspeakers playing American blues songs. Security personnel from Luas patrolled the platform, and everybody behaved decently.
It was very different from our after-concert experiences in NYC, where mass transit it usually delayed/diverted (because of never-ending repairs at nighttime) and public transportation becomes a haven for homeless people. Using public transit at night in NYC is also fraught with closures and sudden reroutes. None of that happened in Dublin.
Lewis and I rode a tram back to our hotel, and we were delighted with its punctual service.
That is something we are not accustomed to, in our “allegedly-modern” city. Furthermore, Dublin's transit system was orderly: no vomit, no pole-dancing beggars, no disruptive "performers" seeking donations, no physiologically-deranged people screaming at the ceiling, and no throngs of frustrated passengers (from prior delays on the system). Seen below, NYC Transit looks like an unlawful circus.
It seems like many people in New York act uncaringly disrespectful, as if their desire to make money supersedes the serenity or safety of riders. That never happened in Ireland. Musicians performed in pubs and on street-corners, but never on public transit. Members of the Garda prevent it.
*For a stark comparison to NYC cops, please use this link:
https://halfwindsorfullthrottle.blogspot.com/2019/07/shameful-police-gossip.html
It was a relief for us to use a properly-run transit system! That is what should happen after a sublime evening of entertainment. It was wonderful to be in a truly first-world society!
We waited mere moments for that tram; it was almost seamless. We got to our hotel within only two minutes. Its automatic doors whirred outward to welcome us, and a cheery pair of employees at the Front Desk and Bar waved at us. Returning to our room, Lewis and I freshened ourselves and hopped into bed. After a night of upbeat music, we certainly had rhythm!
More Irish greatness continued, so join us in the next part by using this link:
https://halfwindsorfullthrottle.blogspot.com/2023/02/our-trip-to-dublin-ireland-part-4-of-6.html
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