DeBold- Shades of Grey but Alive and Well

        

     There is a certain something about Dublin.  Even on a sunny day, the sky sustains a thick grey tint even on the sunniest of days.  The buildings too have this shade to them but I would not say that Dublin is a dreary city.  I say it is quite the opposite actually; the city is very much so alive. It has a pulse, one that I have never seen before, even after living in New Orleans and New York. 

 

        Women confidently striding with pretty freckles on their noses and fiery red locks (of who are quite the eye-popping contrast with all of the grey).  On the corner of Nassau Street, a little red head delicately plucked the strings of her Irish harp. Another older man with a ponytail and a thick beard was trying to make a buck playing rock n’ roll electric-guitar rifts on Grafton Street. Grogan’s Pub was flooded with men smoking pipes and sipping the froth off the top of their Guinness pints.  

                 The Temple Bar, having slight resemblance to Bourbon Street, is riddled with tourists and toothy smiles beckoning the camera happy people to come and buy some fish n’ chips. 

 

I smile at the crosswalk signal's uncanny resemblance to R2D2 . Even so, I have already nearly lost my lunch after a close encounter with a double decker bus cutting corners as if racing the grand prix. 

        

        

                        From the kick-off, Dublin has taken me by surprise. People are friendly and (even more so) incredibly interesting. Some time during this trip I am going to make a conversation with an old Irish man reading the News paper- there always seems to be at least one in every pub or bench.  The people of Dublin, as I have seen so far, are not who I believed them to be following Joyce’s Dubliners.  These people are not trapped or paralyzed as the book implies. The Irish in Dublin are strong people with a solid grasp of who they are and, to be honest, I think they even like who they are- I know I do.