Me, the tourist

Dublin: This morning it rained; for only the second time I'm using my jacket. I eschewed breakfast in the hostel for something more filling: a Boxty breakfast. Sausages, bacon, pancake and egg with a side order of potato cake. It was delish and just the thing to have before the Guinness tour. And… since it was still fairly early, I kicked back with the local free newspaper Metro while chowing down on breakfast.

The river Liffey, on a suitably bleak and rainy day.

Of course, yet again I headed out without a really good look at the map, but as long as I stayed in the left lane, I was pretty sure I'd find it. And so I did. I parked the car and wandered to the entrance – the long way, of course. If I'd gone right instead of left, I'd have only had to go about a hundred metres around the side of the building.

The tour itself was fascinating. It went into the history of transport for the Guinness – the ships and barges, the carts pulled by horses and trucks - the construction of the Guinness brewing complex and of the barrels needed for the stuff. At one time, 300 carpenters were employed to build the barrels (otherwise known as 'firkins', which made me smile since Firkin is a surname connected to our family tree).

There are small museums dedicated to both, including models of the ships, and the actual tools used in the barrel-making process. Though the tour is self-guided, there are arrows directing you and interesting short documentaries describing and showing the processes of Guinness making. It uses four ingredients, but the making is remarkably complex.

At the end of the tour, and at the top of the building, a free pint of Guinness awaits and the bar has a three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of Dublin. There are also inscriptions beneath the windows pointing out the highlights of the city with a quote from a famous Irish work. As it was raining, most of the city shivered under a grey shroud.

This is my Guinness, perfectly poured, sitting on the bar, just waiting to be enjoyed.

From there it was over to Trinity College to see the Book of Kells. I wandered around the shop, looked for things to buy, but it's all so damned expensive. Entry price to the book was €8 and I talked myself out of going in.

Outside, I argued with myself. There I was, at Trinity College, Dublin! How could I not see the book? Because it was a religious icon representing the death of the old religions in Ireland. But it's not just about Christianity in Ireland, now is it? It's about the art work, the process of writing and drawing, the history of the thing and it's survival for twelve hundred years. It was the antique value of the book that convinced me.

It looks old - is old - carefully displayed in a humidity-controlled environment and under dim lights. The colours have faded somewhat, but there is still a vibrancy. The Book of Kells isn't the only book on display. There are others, equally spectacular, equally as old and carefully wrought. The area is kept in subdued lighting – no photography allowed – and you can imagine a tonsured monk, clad in rough-hewn brown robes and sitting at a tilted wooden bench, carefully dipping the quill tip into brilliant blue, subdued mauve, sunny yellow, soot black and painstakingly transcribing the words onto a fresh sheet of vellum. No mistakes allowed, or the page has to be redone.

A part of the entry fee was to see the old library, upstairs. The scent of books hits you as soon as you step into the sixty-foot room. On either side, shelves of leather-bound books - some with red ribbons - rise to an arched ceiling, all of it built of dark wood. The precious tomes are cordoned off by rope. No touching the antiques, plebs.

Trinity College. Bottom floor - The Book of Kells. Top floor, the fabulous library.

At each archway is a marble bust of important people: Socrates, Milton, Burke, Bacon, Aristotle… People who made a difference throughout history. Down the centre, more medieval books are displayed in glass cases; they’re similar to the Book of Kells, but not necessarily religious. Some are medical, others, philosophy, science and education. Well worth it for those who appreciate books. Of course, no photographs allowed!

After that, it was time to do some touristy shopping and I bought t-shirts and scarves. If I'd bothered to check what I'd already bought, I might have modified my shopping! At the very least, I'd have bought an Irish shirt for myself!

The tourist Mecca of Temple Bar. Here, if you're not careful, you can pay too much for food and beer; and be tagged by pickpockets - those suckers are everywhere!

For dinner, I had an excellent freshly made sweet chilli beef wrap – from a takeaway, I'm over the restaurants - followed by a Hot Chocolate at the Haagen Daaz stand. That drink was something special, especially on a chilly evening. I nearly ordered a second one to go; but that’s just plain greedy.

Now, I'm repacking everything for tomorrow. One of the County Cork girls quizzed me on family tree research, dividing my focus. Once she'd gone, the Canadians came in from their run and more chatting ensued. I offered to take them to the bus station tomorrow, since they seemed to have some luggage. As a consequence, I may have packed successfully, but I also mis-packed stuff... though I didn't know at the time.