Think I'm approaching festival capacity at this stage. Just in from a wander around the Dun Laoghaire Festival of World Cultures and it was more a matter of surviving rather than enjoying the experience. So. Many. People.
Plus So. Much. Queuing. and So. Many. Flying Ants. Ok that's hardly the festival's fault but generally I'm sick of the downsides of festival life--the queuing, the greasy food, the wailing kids...ready to curl up somewhere quiet with a book now thank you.
Saying that, I really enjoyed this year's Galway Arts Festival. I was in Galway for 10 days of it and managed to get to a good range of shows across the spectrum: theatre, comedy, music, street theatre and the annual Macnas Parade.
The festival street theatre (as opposed to random buskers and performers of which there was as usual millions) was minimal - just two acts: Tumble Circus and Bruce Airhead. Both are acts I've seen before in either the Spiegeltent or Street Performance World Championships but both acts are superb and stand up to rewatching. The weather proved abysmal for most of the scheduled performance days which was unfortunate but both acts soldiered on and attracted large crowds when the rain went away.
The Parade was particularly good this year displaying Macnas' capacity for big imagination on a small budget. The title/theme was 'The Wild Hunt' featuring a boy and his pursuit of various wild and fantastical creatures through the streets. A minotaur hinted at Picasso, crows at Ted Hughes and a wolf referenced Blake and Angela Carter. To me the aesthetic was beautifully designed and realised. These pictures hardly do it justice.
The organisers were blessed with a sunny day and a massive crowd turned out to embrace the carnival atmosphere and witness the unmissable spectacle that the Macnas parade has become. The performers seemed really energised and engaged with the crowd non-stop as the parade wound its way from the Spanish Arch to the Cathedral.
It was amusing to hear that Peter Crawley, theatre critic for the Irish Times was a participant and he notes his experiences here. Augusto Boal said: anyone can do theatre, Even actors. And theatre can be done everywhere. Even in a theatre. Turns out anyone can be in a Macnas Parade. Even theatre critics.
Other shows that stood out for me included Corn Exchange's Freefall, Tusk Tusk by GYT and Badly Drawn Boy at the Radisson. Freefall was a terrific piece of theatre depicting a man undergoing a stroke and flashbacks throughout his life performed by an excellent cast. Tusk Tusk confirms that GYT are managing to consistently deliver high quality theatre from the mouths of babes (ok teenagers) every year at the Arts Festival. This show dealt with the dark experience of three children who've been abandoned by their mother. All the actors showed raw talent but without doubt the seven-year old child actor was the one to steal the hearts of everyone in the audience. The pure joy of pure acting was clear in his face and a barefoot kid without his mammy is about the most sympathetic character you can create!
Badly Drawn Boy proved entertaining mostly because of Damon Gough's self-deprecating tone which would endear anyone to an Irish crowd. Either the song was shit, a line was shit or he was 'shit at performing'. Mancunian self-deprecation to the last. He chatted and told stories to the crowd throughout his show (a trait I adore in a performer) even sharing his addiction to iPhone app 'Doodle Jump'. He's been out of the loop for a while and is planning to release a new album in October and I for one welcome him back - had forgotten how much I love his voice and songs.
My one comedy show was Maeve Higgins at the King's Head Ruby Room for Gerry Mallon's Laughter Lunchtime series. She wasn't at her absolute best but even Maeve Higgins at her worst is a hell of lot funnier than most other comedians out there. Highlights include her tale of being locked out of the house on a wintry morning and tales from her slightly overweight childhood past. She's got an immensely charismatic and friendly presence - you really want to go have coffee with her afterwards.
I was excited to see Rodrigo y Gabriela in concert finally and was suitably impressed by their ferociously fast fingers and geetar stylings. It's hard to stay engaged with an evening of music which involves no lyrics, however, and I definitely think that it would be a better experience to see them in a small indoor venue rather than in a tent in a muddy field (very muddy as it happened--rain tipped down for most of their show). Man I'm starting to sound like a geriatric crank - what's wrong with wanting a little comfort?!
As for the shows I didn't love... well you should know who you are for the most part. Uncle Vanya by the Bristol Vic was a great production but Chekov type theatre will never be for me. The Grippe Girls by Electric Bridget needs a lot more polishing and focus before it fulfills it's theatrical potential. Finally I probably would have enjoyed Druid's Penelope a lot more if it hadn't been wildly overhyped by the festival.
It's a very literary/wordy piece of theatre by Enda Walsh with lengthy monologues where their should be some climactic action. It's a very good production, cast, set and direction-wise, so credit is due to Druid for maintaining their high standards but I don't think Penelope as a play compares with The Walworth Farce. Maybe it's harsh to criticise a playwright for not being able to compete with their own earlier work but it still didn't deserve the arse-licking it got at the hands of the Galway Arts community. You are allowed to criticise stuff in the festival people!
And that's it for me and festivals for a while. August sees me hitting the road to California and Italy for some serious sunshine...5 days after I'm back from hols I'll be back to the classroom. Boy does the summer go fast.
Keep it festive folks ;)
La Belle Ms. Bones
Ms Bones views, reviews, listens and experiences when and where she can...
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Summer: Part 1
Argh.
I've been meaning to sit down and review the various gigs and festivals I've been at this summer so far but keep getting sidetracked by yet more gigs and festivals. (The Galway Arts Festival is currently keeping me busy)
I caught Paul McCartney at the RDS, Greenday at Marlay Park, the Body & Soul festival in Ballinlough Castle and got to the Saturday of Oxegen (yes the day it pissed non-stop).
James Hendicott does Oxegen far better justice than I would and I happen to agree with his opinions on most of the performances so I'm gonna link his reviews on state.ie here: on Saturday's Oxegen highlights and Muse. Basically Florence was a bit disappointing, Dirty Projectors were weird and Muse rocked....also Two Door Cinema Club (despite the lead singer looking about 15) and Andrew Hozier Byrne are ones to watch for the future.
Greenday at Marlay Park were hugely entertaining; engaging in lots of audience participation (pity none of the audience members who got to go on stage could sing), fun covers and generally rocking their substantial back catalogue for an eager crowd. Great concert overall even if it did reduce the beau's 'Days Without Seeing a Penis' count to zero (he likes it to be as high as possible) when random punter got naked for no good reason.
It had previously been at 4 days due to an event at a stag where a sleepwalking roommate almost peed on his bed in the middle of the night. The Beau was not having a good week.
The Body & Soul Festival, originally a section of Electric Picnic, this year launched it's own spin off festival in the grounds of Ballinlough Castle, Co Westmeath in June. For only €100 there was 2 night's camping, music from a variety of not very well know bands and DJs, artistic installations, fire ceremonies and fireworks, a forest full of hot tubs and arts & crafts/workshop and massage tents...oh and a Friendship Nest.
The weekend was a scorcher and I think the weather was largely responsible for making it an enjoyable weekend--if it had rained it would have sucked--it had very little shelter and lacked in kick ass entertainment. As it was wandering around the stunning grounds and walled gardens of Ballinlough, sipping cider in the sunshine and being entertained by random bellydancers and alternative musical acts made for a very fun weekend.
My own musical highlights of the weekend were Kormac's Big Band, Harry Bird & the Rubber Wellies and Galway man Ultan Conlan none of whom I'd heard of before the weekend.
The place was crawling with hippies and free-range kids, the toilets at the campsite were disgusting despite there being only 1500 people at it but overall, for what it cost, I think it supplied excellent value for money.
By far the best gig I've been at this summer so far, however, was Paul McCartney. I had fairly come to terms with the fact that I was never going to get to see the Beatles play live but this concert came pretty damn close. He played for 2 hours 40 minutes with about a 30 second break before 2 encores.
We got All my Loving (chills down my spine I tell you), The Long and Winding Road, Day in the Life, Let it Be, Lady Madonna, Back in the USSR, Eleanor Rigby, Hey Jude, Get Back, Paperback Writer, all the Wings classics: Jet, Band on the Run and a spectacular Live and Let Die (the song was written to have fireworks accompany it) followed by a raucous encore of Sgt Peppers and Helter Skelter. Even at 68 the man can seriously rock and he was a charming and charismatic performer into the bargain.
There's something magical about being in crowd where every single person knows the words to almost all the songs. Seriously - if you ever get the chance to see him live just go.
Meanwhile I'm cramming as much as I can afford of the Galway Arts Festival in and will have views and reviews in the coming days.
I've been meaning to sit down and review the various gigs and festivals I've been at this summer so far but keep getting sidetracked by yet more gigs and festivals. (The Galway Arts Festival is currently keeping me busy)
I caught Paul McCartney at the RDS, Greenday at Marlay Park, the Body & Soul festival in Ballinlough Castle and got to the Saturday of Oxegen (yes the day it pissed non-stop).
James Hendicott does Oxegen far better justice than I would and I happen to agree with his opinions on most of the performances so I'm gonna link his reviews on state.ie here: on Saturday's Oxegen highlights and Muse. Basically Florence was a bit disappointing, Dirty Projectors were weird and Muse rocked....also Two Door Cinema Club (despite the lead singer looking about 15) and Andrew Hozier Byrne are ones to watch for the future.
Greenday at Marlay Park were hugely entertaining; engaging in lots of audience participation (pity none of the audience members who got to go on stage could sing), fun covers and generally rocking their substantial back catalogue for an eager crowd. Great concert overall even if it did reduce the beau's 'Days Without Seeing a Penis' count to zero (he likes it to be as high as possible) when random punter got naked for no good reason.
It had previously been at 4 days due to an event at a stag where a sleepwalking roommate almost peed on his bed in the middle of the night. The Beau was not having a good week.
The Body & Soul Festival, originally a section of Electric Picnic, this year launched it's own spin off festival in the grounds of Ballinlough Castle, Co Westmeath in June. For only €100 there was 2 night's camping, music from a variety of not very well know bands and DJs, artistic installations, fire ceremonies and fireworks, a forest full of hot tubs and arts & crafts/workshop and massage tents...oh and a Friendship Nest.
The weekend was a scorcher and I think the weather was largely responsible for making it an enjoyable weekend--if it had rained it would have sucked--it had very little shelter and lacked in kick ass entertainment. As it was wandering around the stunning grounds and walled gardens of Ballinlough, sipping cider in the sunshine and being entertained by random bellydancers and alternative musical acts made for a very fun weekend.
My own musical highlights of the weekend were Kormac's Big Band, Harry Bird & the Rubber Wellies and Galway man Ultan Conlan none of whom I'd heard of before the weekend.
The place was crawling with hippies and free-range kids, the toilets at the campsite were disgusting despite there being only 1500 people at it but overall, for what it cost, I think it supplied excellent value for money.
By far the best gig I've been at this summer so far, however, was Paul McCartney. I had fairly come to terms with the fact that I was never going to get to see the Beatles play live but this concert came pretty damn close. He played for 2 hours 40 minutes with about a 30 second break before 2 encores.
We got All my Loving (chills down my spine I tell you), The Long and Winding Road, Day in the Life, Let it Be, Lady Madonna, Back in the USSR, Eleanor Rigby, Hey Jude, Get Back, Paperback Writer, all the Wings classics: Jet, Band on the Run and a spectacular Live and Let Die (the song was written to have fireworks accompany it) followed by a raucous encore of Sgt Peppers and Helter Skelter. Even at 68 the man can seriously rock and he was a charming and charismatic performer into the bargain.
There's something magical about being in crowd where every single person knows the words to almost all the songs. Seriously - if you ever get the chance to see him live just go.
Meanwhile I'm cramming as much as I can afford of the Galway Arts Festival in and will have views and reviews in the coming days.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Sleb Sightings in South Co Dublin
Just saw comedian Kevin Gildea sitting outside a cafe in Dun Laoghaire writing.
He's Fr Cave in the famous airplane episode of Father Ted, you can see him at this link 15:25 in.
Oh to have a job that involves sitting at a cafe for hours just thinking. He was scratching his head and everything!
His hair looked a lot more normal in person though.
Other B slebs sighted in the Dun Laoghaire area over the past month include: George Lee, Ryan Tubridy, David McWilliams, Frank Kelly and Mary Hanafin. Hitting the big time here I tell ya.
Stay posted for another riveting episode of RTE staff and Irish Politicians Going About Their Daily Lives only on La Belle Ms Bones.
Speaking of Comedians....
Comedian Trailer = funny.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Bonesy's Back
Well the glorious 'career break of wonder' ended last September when I returned to my secure pensionable teaching job in the wee county. Unexpectedly the time off from teaching made me want to do it all the more - I was sure it'd be more of a career change than a career break but there you go... A year and a half in PR taught me that I cannot stand sitting in front of a computer all day and really need decent holidays for my sanity.
The teaching year flew by faster than any previous year I had spent in a classroom and, despite pay cuts and the return of teacher-bashing in the media, I goddamn enjoyed being a teacher this year. A formerly head-wrecking co-worker had left the school, I had as many 'good' classes (classes where those who want to learn outnumber those who don't) as 'bad' and I had fun doing extracurricular activities like the yearbook and Drama.
I was less inclined to sweat the small stuff then when I had taught previously and I think that might be key to surviving as a secondary teacher. Punctuality and handing in essays on time matter to me; correct uniform, having silence in the classroom and backchat don't matter all that much. I was debating before most of these kids were born (man I'm old).. I can handle them.
Back in the first year or two when I began and I was doing it solely for financial independence and a lack of other ideas, I used to respond to the "and what do you do?" questions by saying "I'm teaching at the moment" ie I'm temporarily engaging in this as a way to make money. Now I'm content to say "I'm a teacher".
It's not all that I am but it is a part of who I am and that's ok. Of course, since the collapse of the Celtic tiger, teaching is no longer considered such a second rate career. Suddenly permanent and pensionable looks awfully attractive to Joe Schmo. But none of that really matters to me - I don't know how long I'll stay at this school - life could drag me to another part of the country or the world at anytime.
I guess I've decided to live in the moment a bit more and to enjoy that moment. As soon as you stop comparing this moment to every other possible moment out there and stop comparing your life to everyone else's (or how you imagine their lives to be)..well then you can start to actually live your life. Not how you imagined it to be but how it really is.
Really.
Hell I'm watching Sopranos box sets at the moment--life is really rather grand as long as you're not a Capo for The Family having to watch your back all the time... ..although I could go for some cannoli right now.
Far away cannoli is always greener. Fugeddaboutit.
The teaching year flew by faster than any previous year I had spent in a classroom and, despite pay cuts and the return of teacher-bashing in the media, I goddamn enjoyed being a teacher this year. A formerly head-wrecking co-worker had left the school, I had as many 'good' classes (classes where those who want to learn outnumber those who don't) as 'bad' and I had fun doing extracurricular activities like the yearbook and Drama.
I was less inclined to sweat the small stuff then when I had taught previously and I think that might be key to surviving as a secondary teacher. Punctuality and handing in essays on time matter to me; correct uniform, having silence in the classroom and backchat don't matter all that much. I was debating before most of these kids were born (man I'm old).. I can handle them.
Back in the first year or two when I began and I was doing it solely for financial independence and a lack of other ideas, I used to respond to the "and what do you do?" questions by saying "I'm teaching at the moment" ie I'm temporarily engaging in this as a way to make money. Now I'm content to say "I'm a teacher".
It's not all that I am but it is a part of who I am and that's ok. Of course, since the collapse of the Celtic tiger, teaching is no longer considered such a second rate career. Suddenly permanent and pensionable looks awfully attractive to Joe Schmo. But none of that really matters to me - I don't know how long I'll stay at this school - life could drag me to another part of the country or the world at anytime.
I guess I've decided to live in the moment a bit more and to enjoy that moment. As soon as you stop comparing this moment to every other possible moment out there and stop comparing your life to everyone else's (or how you imagine their lives to be)..well then you can start to actually live your life. Not how you imagined it to be but how it really is.
Really.
Hell I'm watching Sopranos box sets at the moment--life is really rather grand as long as you're not a Capo for The Family having to watch your back all the time... ..although I could go for some cannoli right now.
Far away cannoli is always greener. Fugeddaboutit.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Post-Galway Comedown
Just had a wonderful 2 weeks in Galway for the family wedding and Arts Festival. Most days I'd have a swim at Blackrock followed by hours of coffee drinking and theatre attendance.
Working for a living is highly over-rated...
Firebirds on High St during the Festival
Peter Crawley does a good job of summing up the festival in the Irish Times here: Disquiet on the Western Front
My own personal highlights were:
- Decadent's production of Blackbird - a gripping two-hander about a convicted paedophile being confronted by his victim with many unexpected twists,
- David O'Doherty's lunchtime show at the King's Head - extreme hilarity without offense or discomfort
- Bon Iver's haunting melodies at the Big Top...despite it not being an ideal venue for such intimate music the songs were captivating and Justin Vernon's obvious affection for Galway gave the show a special edge
- Propeller's all-male production of A Midsummer Night's Dream - hilarious, spirited and utterly magical.
Circa's show Furioso was disappointing. The performers displayed their acrobatic skills without a shred of humour, excitement or charisma. There was no narrative, no character - nothing to engage the audience. Having heard such good things about previous shows it was a real let-down.
The Macnas parade too was somewhat anti-climactic appearing shambolic and pathetically small due to miscommunication about its layout. The crowd were not aware that the show was really the finale at the Cathedral and not the parade through the town. We had talked up the Parade hugely to all the wedding guests over from Scotland but most looked decidedly unimpressed on the night. I realise that budgets were greatly tightened this year but decent communication and marshalling doesn't cost a dime - it just involves better organisation.
I have to admit - the Ghost horse was pretty cool though:
And so the Arts Festival is over for another year. I'm boycotting the Races due to lack of energy/funds but will meet up with the gang in Galway for the Bank Holiday weekend.
As long as I can spend most of my summers in Galway...I think I'll be happy.
Working for a living is highly over-rated...
Firebirds on High St during the Festival
Peter Crawley does a good job of summing up the festival in the Irish Times here: Disquiet on the Western Front
My own personal highlights were:
- Decadent's production of Blackbird - a gripping two-hander about a convicted paedophile being confronted by his victim with many unexpected twists,
- David O'Doherty's lunchtime show at the King's Head - extreme hilarity without offense or discomfort
- Bon Iver's haunting melodies at the Big Top...despite it not being an ideal venue for such intimate music the songs were captivating and Justin Vernon's obvious affection for Galway gave the show a special edge
- Propeller's all-male production of A Midsummer Night's Dream - hilarious, spirited and utterly magical.
Circa's show Furioso was disappointing. The performers displayed their acrobatic skills without a shred of humour, excitement or charisma. There was no narrative, no character - nothing to engage the audience. Having heard such good things about previous shows it was a real let-down.
The Macnas parade too was somewhat anti-climactic appearing shambolic and pathetically small due to miscommunication about its layout. The crowd were not aware that the show was really the finale at the Cathedral and not the parade through the town. We had talked up the Parade hugely to all the wedding guests over from Scotland but most looked decidedly unimpressed on the night. I realise that budgets were greatly tightened this year but decent communication and marshalling doesn't cost a dime - it just involves better organisation.
I have to admit - the Ghost horse was pretty cool though:
And so the Arts Festival is over for another year. I'm boycotting the Races due to lack of energy/funds but will meet up with the gang in Galway for the Bank Holiday weekend.
As long as I can spend most of my summers in Galway...I think I'll be happy.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Good Morning
Festival season is upon once more and it's time I awoke from the summer stupor I've been in for the past 6 weeks. The Film Fleadh is on this weekend and will be closely followed by the Arts Festival and the Races...and more importantly the Wedding of the Century takes place on the 18th July - if the Dobbyns can survive this they can survive anything.
I shouldn't imply that I've been doing nothing for the last while - I've been doing nothing only most of time. The rest of the time I've been super busy. Festival season in Galway actually kicked off early this year with the wonderful Volvo Ocean Race in June. Two weeks of free concerts, a festival village, shiny boats and gorgeous sunny, warm weather made it a great time to be unemployed in Galway.
I had a chance to hang out with my Galway buds, soak up lots of sunshine and engage in my favourite past-time - talking about how great Galway is. The Californian beau got completely sunburned on the day of the airshow in Salthill. He no longer laughs at belobstered Irish people.
The much stressed-about and heralded Hen Night also took place in June and was quite successful if I do say so myself. We enjoyed High Tea at the Balmoral on the Saturday afternoon to start things off. My photo album of amusing snaps of the bride-to-be went down a treat as did the yummy cakes and several divine gingerbread lattes (possibly the most delicious drink I've ever had).
We adjourned to Lorna's flat for hen games and final alterations to our bras for the Moonwalk we were doing that night in aid of Breast Cancer charities. Mark had submitted some hilarious answers to the Mr & Mrs game questionnaire and despite the challenge Lorna still managed to score 75% overall. She also won all the prizes in the pass the parcel game which included a dashing apron, rubber gloves and a dustpan. Oh the merriment.
We finalised our preparations for the 13 mile walk due to start at midnight and were most proud of our fringed, floral, sparkley bras. See here:
And off we headed to Inverleith Park to walk the walk along with around 10,000 other people - mostly women but quite a few men participating also. The craic was mighty in the giant pink tent and we sat and gawped at the inventive costumes and brassieres parading around us...nuns with hands grabbing their breasts, superheroes and animal themed outfits abounded. After waiting around a little longer than desirable we hit the road at midnight.
I was fairly confident that walking 13 miles would be no bother to be so didn't bother with the vaseline all over the feet and failed to pack any bandaids. Sure I'd ran a half-marathon last year - this would be a doddle.
Not so sadly - turns out walking for 4 and a half hours is actually pretty tough. Especially when it's around the rather hilly city of Edinburgh. By mile 9 my feet were starting to seriously blister and if it wasn't for the compedes generously donated by more organised walkers (ie Mark's Mum) I would have been a gonner.
As it was I was thoroughly wrecked by the time we finished in broad daylight back at Inverleith park. How the other half of the crowd kept going for another 13 miles to do the full marathon I have no idea. Getting into bed at 5am was one of the happiest memories I have in recent times--following only the memory of getting into a hot bath the following day. Bliss.
We finished off the hen with a glorious 4 hour dunch (that meal between lunch and dinner) in the wonderful Brown's on George's St in Edinburgh on the Sunday. Exhausted but happy we wore our yellow medals boastfully only to be out done when a another table of women arrived in wearing the pink medals of the full marathoners. If anyone deserved a good meal that day those ladies did.
After several weeks lazing about Dublin, Galway beckons once again - the Scots invade this weekend and thus the epic 2 week long wedding commences. Don't say the Dobbyns do things by halves.
I intend to soak up as much Arts Festival merriment as possible while still playing the dutiful bridesmaid. Tickets for Bon Iver, Furioso and A Midsummer Night's Dream have already been procured.
Will attempt to report/review when time allows.
I shouldn't imply that I've been doing nothing for the last while - I've been doing nothing only most of time. The rest of the time I've been super busy. Festival season in Galway actually kicked off early this year with the wonderful Volvo Ocean Race in June. Two weeks of free concerts, a festival village, shiny boats and gorgeous sunny, warm weather made it a great time to be unemployed in Galway.
I had a chance to hang out with my Galway buds, soak up lots of sunshine and engage in my favourite past-time - talking about how great Galway is. The Californian beau got completely sunburned on the day of the airshow in Salthill
The much stressed-about and heralded Hen Night also took place in June and was quite successful if I do say so myself. We enjoyed High Tea at the Balmoral on the Saturday afternoon to start things off. My photo album of amusing snaps of the bride-to-be went down a treat as did the yummy cakes and several divine gingerbread lattes (possibly the most delicious drink I've ever had).
We adjourned to Lorna's flat for hen games and final alterations to our bras for the Moonwalk we were doing that night in aid of Breast Cancer charities. Mark had submitted some hilarious answers to the Mr & Mrs game questionnaire and despite the challenge Lorna still managed to score 75% overall. She also won all the prizes in the pass the parcel game which included a dashing apron, rubber gloves and a dustpan. Oh the merriment.
We finalised our preparations for the 13 mile walk due to start at midnight and were most proud of our fringed, floral, sparkley bras. See here:
And off we headed to Inverleith Park to walk the walk along with around 10,000 other people - mostly women but quite a few men participating also. The craic was mighty in the giant pink tent and we sat and gawped at the inventive costumes and brassieres parading around us...nuns with hands grabbing their breasts, superheroes and animal themed outfits abounded. After waiting around a little longer than desirable we hit the road at midnight.
I was fairly confident that walking 13 miles would be no bother to be so didn't bother with the vaseline all over the feet and failed to pack any bandaids. Sure I'd ran a half-marathon last year - this would be a doddle.
Not so sadly - turns out walking for 4 and a half hours is actually pretty tough. Especially when it's around the rather hilly city of Edinburgh. By mile 9 my feet were starting to seriously blister and if it wasn't for the compedes generously donated by more organised walkers (ie Mark's Mum) I would have been a gonner.
As it was I was thoroughly wrecked by the time we finished in broad daylight back at Inverleith park. How the other half of the crowd kept going for another 13 miles to do the full marathon I have no idea. Getting into bed at 5am was one of the happiest memories I have in recent times--following only the memory of getting into a hot bath the following day. Bliss.
We finished off the hen with a glorious 4 hour dunch (that meal between lunch and dinner) in the wonderful Brown's on George's St in Edinburgh on the Sunday. Exhausted but happy we wore our yellow medals boastfully only to be out done when a another table of women arrived in wearing the pink medals of the full marathoners. If anyone deserved a good meal that day those ladies did.
After several weeks lazing about Dublin, Galway beckons once again - the Scots invade this weekend and thus the epic 2 week long wedding commences. Don't say the Dobbyns do things by halves.
I intend to soak up as much Arts Festival merriment as possible while still playing the dutiful bridesmaid. Tickets for Bon Iver, Furioso and A Midsummer Night's Dream have already been procured.
Will attempt to report/review when time allows.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
The Secret Gardens
The girls and I are moving out of the House of Fun in Inchicore soon. I'm preparing to return to teaching in Drogheda in September so want to move Northside, as does my housemate who works in Swords. The 'Core is no longer where it's at.
To be honest the 'Core was never where it was at. I tried to like the place but the village itself is not the most charming in Dublin. There's little sense of community, no cafés to speak of and limited shopping opportunities. The house was a charming, cosy place to live (apart from being drafty as hell) and I have many happy memories here but the time is nigh to bid adieu.
My favourite aspect of living here was getting to discover and fall in love with the War Memorial Gardens by Islandbridge and I will seriously miss the daily walk to work in Chapelizod through it. It's a secret oasis of elegance and calm in a busy part of the city with rose gardens, tree lined paths, benches by the river Liffey and for me was a little taste of Paris in dear old dirty Dublin.
First mooted in 1919 as a commemoration to all who died in the Great War, The Irish National War Memorial Gardens weren't built till the 1930s. An official opening was planned for 1939 but then World War II broke out and it was shelved.
The Gardens were neglected during the 70s and 80s and even became a halting site for several years. Restoration work took place in the 80s but it wasn't finally and officially dedicated until 2006!
The park consists of two beautifully maintained sunken rose gardens (left) surrounding a central memorial area with two fountains (see above), a War Stone of Irish granite and a Great Cross of Sacrifice.
Outside of the main Gardens the park stretches to the Liffey and a walk-way by the river continues all the way into Chapelizod.
This stretch of river is home to all the major rowing clubs in Dublin and sees individuals and teams of rowers demonstrating their prowess with oars at all times of the day.
It's also home to an array of wildlife including stately herons, sun-bathing cormorants, elegant swans, not-so-elegant ducks and occasional groups of exhausted looking brent geese on the way to warmer or cooler climes.
There are currently several families of adorable fluffy ducklings and cygnets who've made the river bank their home and I would advise any broody females out there to pay a visit to ooh and aah over the squeeze-them-in-the-cheek cute balls of fluff. There are two mama ducks, one with seven ducklings, the other with five and two swan families, one with one cygnet and the other with nine! The family of nine cygnets is beyond cute. It's especially nice to see swan daddies being so devoted to their young...unlike daddy ducks who are useless articles who force poor female ducks into submission then abandon them to raise the ducklings alone. Hmph.
The park is also a favourite with local dog-walkers and unlike Phoenix Park it's possible to see the same faces (and the same dogs) walking the same route every day. There's a loyal community of Memorial Garden walkers out there and once in the park everyone is friendly and genial towards one another. People know each others dogs names, discuss the progress of the duckling and cygnet broods and share broad smiles at being happy to be out in the throes of nature no matter what the weather.
I was part of this community for a short period and I would recommend to any Dublin resident to take a stroll in these Gardens some summer's eve. The roses are coming out and soon there will be a sea of colour in the sunken gardens, the cygnets and ducklings are growing in confidence every day and Suzy the border collie wants you to play tug-o-war with her.
Leave the sqalid bedsit behind and pretend that Dublin is Paris for a while.
Meanwhile I'm away to Galway to soak up some sunshine and Volvo Ocean Race craic - c'est beau la vie.
To be honest the 'Core was never where it was at. I tried to like the place but the village itself is not the most charming in Dublin. There's little sense of community, no cafés to speak of and limited shopping opportunities. The house was a charming, cosy place to live (apart from being drafty as hell) and I have many happy memories here but the time is nigh to bid adieu.
My favourite aspect of living here was getting to discover and fall in love with the War Memorial Gardens by Islandbridge and I will seriously miss the daily walk to work in Chapelizod through it. It's a secret oasis of elegance and calm in a busy part of the city with rose gardens, tree lined paths, benches by the river Liffey and for me was a little taste of Paris in dear old dirty Dublin.
First mooted in 1919 as a commemoration to all who died in the Great War, The Irish National War Memorial Gardens weren't built till the 1930s. An official opening was planned for 1939 but then World War II broke out and it was shelved.
The Gardens were neglected during the 70s and 80s and even became a halting site for several years. Restoration work took place in the 80s but it wasn't finally and officially dedicated until 2006!
The park consists of two beautifully maintained sunken rose gardens (left) surrounding a central memorial area with two fountains (see above), a War Stone of Irish granite and a Great Cross of Sacrifice.
Outside of the main Gardens the park stretches to the Liffey and a walk-way by the river continues all the way into Chapelizod.
This stretch of river is home to all the major rowing clubs in Dublin and sees individuals and teams of rowers demonstrating their prowess with oars at all times of the day.
It's also home to an array of wildlife including stately herons, sun-bathing cormorants, elegant swans, not-so-elegant ducks and occasional groups of exhausted looking brent geese on the way to warmer or cooler climes.
There are currently several families of adorable fluffy ducklings and cygnets who've made the river bank their home and I would advise any broody females out there to pay a visit to ooh and aah over the squeeze-them-in-the-cheek cute balls of fluff. There are two mama ducks, one with seven ducklings, the other with five and two swan families, one with one cygnet and the other with nine! The family of nine cygnets is beyond cute. It's especially nice to see swan daddies being so devoted to their young...unlike daddy ducks who are useless articles who force poor female ducks into submission then abandon them to raise the ducklings alone. Hmph.
The park is also a favourite with local dog-walkers and unlike Phoenix Park it's possible to see the same faces (and the same dogs) walking the same route every day. There's a loyal community of Memorial Garden walkers out there and once in the park everyone is friendly and genial towards one another. People know each others dogs names, discuss the progress of the duckling and cygnet broods and share broad smiles at being happy to be out in the throes of nature no matter what the weather.
I was part of this community for a short period and I would recommend to any Dublin resident to take a stroll in these Gardens some summer's eve. The roses are coming out and soon there will be a sea of colour in the sunken gardens, the cygnets and ducklings are growing in confidence every day and Suzy the border collie wants you to play tug-o-war with her.
Leave the sqalid bedsit behind and pretend that Dublin is Paris for a while.
Meanwhile I'm away to Galway to soak up some sunshine and Volvo Ocean Race craic - c'est beau la vie.
Labels:
dublin parks,
Inchicore,
islandbridge,
War memorial gardens
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