Auf wiedersehen , Hamburg!

Well, it's taken me over a month to write this up, but I figured it was finally time to cover the last weekend of my German stay. Mostly because this past weekend I was in New York and really need to get some more updates going.... more on that later.

My last European update left off after my return to Hamburg from Ireland. I had only the Thursday and Friday left at work before leaving on Monday for Canada.

Because so many of my coworkers from Online were vacationing that week my days at work were pretty quiet. On Thursday I went out for lunch with my boss (who is also an old friend of my uncle's). Because of some details relating to selling the apartment I had been staying in he kindly offered to be my host for my final weekend in Hamburg. On Friday I had one final lunch with the Advertising boys, which was fun and a little nostalgic. I found it pretty funny how much their English had deteriorated in the eight weeks since we had been working together. The rest of the afternoon passed quietly enough, but when the end of the day came around I noticed the whole floor of the agency was all gathered up around the meeting table. I wandered out and everyone was looking at me, and then they presented me with a little gift and a card everyone had signed. On the card was a picture of the How I Met Your Mother cast, though they had photoshopped my face over Robin Scherbatsky's, and below had put "How I Met Your Mudda", a word-play on my first German words "deine mudda". I, of course, got totally overwhelmed and started tearing up, then made a probably incoherent speech about my time there.

That, however, was not the end of the night. Our agency is split up into two buildings, one of which is Advertising, Design, Online, (generally the more Creative side of things) then the other  building that mainly houses PR, Accounts, Management and other such administrative type things. That Friday night we were having a big company party to encourage everyone to get to know one another (A Team themed party, I might add). Like most German parties, everyone got pretty drunk at the open bar and had a prodigiously good time singing and dancing to hits of the '90s. I wound up swing dancing with a member of senior management who was delightedly telling me about his recent marriage (I think... it was really tough to hear). It was a brilliantly fun send off. Though in a particularly obnoxious turn of fate, I happened to meet a charming, attractive, tall, successful, single gentleman who was actually interested in me. Go figure. Neither of us was pleased that I was leaving the damn continent in three days. Thanks Europe. Nothing but married men for three and a half months and then Prince Charming days before I leave.

Anyway, the next day was my boss' father's birthday, so I joined his family in journeying to the countryside outside of Hamburg for the party. I was a little nervous that it would be awkward since I'm essentially a complete stranger and can't even speak German, but the family was so welcoming. For my benefit they all spoke English, and my boss' parents were probably the sweetest people in the world. The area they lived in was also exceptionally beautiful, and it was nice to get a sense of what there was outside of Hamburg. I had a great chat with the birthday-man, who happened to be pretty hilarious. He asked if I was planning to be in Design permanently, and when I said I had lots of different plans for my future he replied "Good, you're too smart to waste your whole life on that." Haha classic old man honesty.

I should add that my boss happens to live in one of Hamburg's nicest communities. His residence is right near the lake, on a tree-lined street with gorgeous white Victorian townhouses and wrought-iron gates. It was a pleasure to stay there and get to walk around the area.

Once we had returned from the countryside birthday party I headed downtown to try and get my final shopping out of the way. I needed another bag (too much shopping during my trip) and also had to find a souvenir for my father, which I eventually was successful at getting. While wandering around I did see the craziest thing though. Right in the middle of the shopping district was a giant and rather frightening looking man hauling around a giant wooden cross and shouting German at passersby. I would have taken a picture if I wasn't genuinely concerned for my safety. Shortly thereafter I decided I needed some caffeine and headed over to Starbucks, where the freak-parade continued. As I was standing at the bar waiting for my order, the man ahead of me picked up his: a venti white mocha. For those of you who are coffee-illiterate, a venti white mocha is a 20 ounce drink made up of two shots of espresso combined with white hot chocolate and then topped with whipped cream and white chocolate sauce (thanks, job at a coffee shop!). It is probably one of the highest fat and calorie drinks you can order, not to mention it is bordering on sickly sweet. I then observed the gentleman take his sugar-fest diabetes-inducing drink to the condiments stand, where he casually poured half of a giant tumbler of sugar into the drink. I mean it, he poured almost half of that sugar in there. I could barely contain my laughter, though the thought of all that sugar made my teeth hurt for all the cavities I'm sure he has. Now you're probably imagining a morbidly obese man right now, but in fact this guy was pretty young and really skinny. All I can say is I'd hate to be him when that metabolism slows down. As though that hadn't been enough hilarity for one night, on my way back to the metro I passed yet another comedic sight. I was using a crosswalk when two gentlemen pulled up to a red light in a flashy convertible with the top down. Despite it being well after dark, I'm quite sure one or both of them were wearing sunglasses. The best part? They were blaring Bollywood music like it was the coolest shit this side of Ibiza. Once again I had to suppress laughter as the President and Vice President of the Douche Squad rolled on by.

The next day (my last in Europe) I was determined not to spend packing. So, in the morning I got my stuff together, then went to my favourite place - the Alsterarkaden - to meet up with a friend from work. We got coffee and hung out there for a bit, then moved on to get lunch. We finished the day by walking around the lakes, something I hadn't actually done before. Unfortunately the day was fairly overcast, but I was still pretty pleased with how it went. When I got back to my host's place a friend of his was visiting and so we all chatted for a while. The friend (whose name I absolutely cannot remember) was very interesting and for quite some time had been a European fashion mogul. I was therefore all the more delighted when he complimented me on the design of my shirt and the colour of my fur scarf (which has turned out to be one of my best European purchases). Anyway, we all decided to go out for dinner at a place called Brücke. Brücke is a small little restaurant/bar that was once a choice Hollywood hang out. It was started by a rather famous restauranteur and has a great reputation. We started with champagne (which I have developed quite a taste for), and then I had a fried fish on a bed of lentils, with perhaps the best sauce I've ever had. It was fantastic! The three of us debated spending a night out on the town, but concluded that since my flight was so early it was probably best that we get to bed early.

The next day it was off to the airport at something like 5:30am. My first flight was from Hamburg to Frankfurt, and of course it was delayed by at least an hour thanks to one of the runways getting shut down. This stressed me out a little since I had a connection to make and really didn't want to push my timeline. Anyway, eventually I got on the flight and arrived in Frankfurt without too much trouble. If you'll recall Frankfurt is one of the largest airports in the world, and dragging myself through it was not what I would call "fun". Anyway, after jumping through hoops with security I arrived at the correct gate, and finally it was on to the giant air bus headed for Vancouver International. Unfortunately, unlike my flight from Vancouver to Hamburg I was not seated by any handsome gentlemen this time around - just some stringy looking quiet guy. I was, however, one seat over from a window and right next to the aisle, which definitely improved my flying experience. Though I had hoped to get some sleep, instead I wound up watching a ton of movies. I started with the new Pirates of the Caribbean (sucked), then watched Bad Teacher (better than I expected), Thor (which I've already seen), Something Borrowed (sucked), The Green Lantern (sucked), Voyage of the Dawntreader (sucked), and probably at least one other film I can't even remember. I believe once I'd run out of movies I moved on to 30 Rock, and then an episode of Modern Family. It was a long flight. One of the coolest parts was flying over Greenland. I had been too far from a window on the way to Europe to see anything, but on the way back I was able to glimpse the endless hills of snow in the arctic. It was incredible! I've never seen anything like it, and I wish I could've gotten a picture or even just looked at it longer.

After ten and a half hours in the air we finally landed in Vancouver, and then I had to deal with at least an hour or two of customs, duties, and security. The fact that I had been out of the country for so long also made things more confusing, though I haven't been hunted down yet by the IRS so I'm guessing I didn't fuck anything up too badly.

There are a lot of things I've taken away from my time in Europe, and I expect I'll discover many more as time goes by. First, it's given me a better understanding of my own culture, country, and what it means to be a Canadian: an identity I only had a vague sense of before. Second, it taught me a lot about culture in general. During my first month in Germany I resented that the culture wasn't as open as my own: I was constantly frustrated that it was so difficult to connect with people, and I concluded that it was a closed-minded way of operating. Ironically, I was the one who was being closed-minded. While I will still tell you that the Northern German culture is more reserved, I won't say that that's a bad thing. It's simply different. While their friendship is a little more work to come by, once you have it you can depend upon it. I hope that in the future I'll be able to experience more cultures and continue learning these lessons.

Another thing I gained from my time overseas was an increased faith in my abilities and a greater independence. While I've always been a fairly independent person, I now feel like I can do just about anything: nothing could ever be as much of a challenge as working and living on the other side of the world in a culture I'm not familiar with, in a country whose language I don't speak, and on a continent where I know no one. These days I am more likely to look at a situation and see opportunities to be grasped rather than challenges I cannot overcome. I am also not afraid to be alone. I know I can take care of myself, and that I don't need to rely upon anyone else to do the things I'm interested in. My travels taught me to be alone in a way that I don't think I could've learned otherwise.

I'll always look upon my time in Europe as a significant period of growth, learning, and change in my personal history. I am so overjoyed that I got to go, and I can't wait to have more adventures just like it.

Let's shut our eyes and pretend none of it ever happened

I owe you a post. Enough said.

So much has been going on in the last couple of months, and there's so much I've been meaning to get up here. It's been almost a month since I left Germany and came back to Canada, and it's been exactly a week since moving to Toronto and starting my new job. In four months I've changed time zones at least five or so times and I've been on at least a dozen flights between four countries and two continents. For someone who has spent the majority of their life in a quiet corner of the province this has been a lot of activity. I have a piece in the works about my last few weeks in Germany, but I'm afraid this isn't it. Work has been so busy that I just don't have the time to dedicate to writing coherently these days.

Speaking of work, I suppose you may be interested in a brief rundown of what I'm up to. Basically I'm working with a graphic design company and an interior design company for some developers who are building townhomes etcetera. The body of my company is located out West, so I've been sent here to be a liaison between East, West, and everyone else involved (architects, landscapers, realtors, lawyers, printers and more). I had expected to be working very much on the creative aspects of things (this is, after all, where the bulk of my experience lies), but instead I've found my role has been much more on-the-ground assistance. I ensure everyone has the files they need, attend meetings, make presentations, source materials (such as printers or audio/visual groups), and spend what must be the majority of my time on the phone getting everyone up to speed on our project progress.

The last few days have been particularly busy as we are all scrambling to get things together for a big event we have next week. I spent my morning rushing between meetings with an audio/visual consultant and our printers, then put in another nine hours at the office making all the necessary edits and adjustments to our materials. Luckily the very intense conclusion to my degree has prepared me well for barrages of deadlines and I've been able to keep going without completely losing my mind: "keep calm and carry on" and all that.

I am thoroughly delighted to say that all of the feedback I've received regarding my work has been wonderful. It's immeasurably reassuring to know that even though you feel completely inadequate and unprepared that others perceive you as put-together and competent. While things are very hectic at the moment it doesn't at all detract from the learning experience. The work here is very different (though still related) to what I did in Germany, and seems to be yet another step in discovering all about this industry. Every day is a new challenge but no matter what I'll finish up with so much more knowledge, confidence and skills than when I started. Not to mention an amazing reference for my resume.

But before I get too smug and you get too annoyed, let's get to what's really been on my mind. For reasons I have yet to uncover I've been in the strangest mood lately. I think part of it is that things are progressing at such a rate that everything seems more than a little surreal. I haven't had sufficient time to process exactly all that has happened, and when I try to I get a little dumbstruck.

Also, I think the move to this new city is making me consider a few things I haven't given thought (deliberately or otherwise). For starters, it seems to be some kind of law of nature that whenever your professional career takes off your love life takes a proportionate dive for the worse. More and more lately I've been overwhelmed by frustration when it comes to my poor luck. The majority of you will already be familiar with my inability to find even ONE single man during my time overseas. I had hoped to leave this problem where it belonged - in Europe - but alas, it followed me home. No sooner did I arrive in Toronto and attend my first business pre-holiday party (yeah, they have those here and they are just as glamorous as you are imagining) than I found an amazingly cute guy, who *gloriously* seemed to reciprocate my interest. Well, we chatted, we laughed, and then two or so hours later I discovered - through someone else, of course - that he was married. Ladies and gentlemen: my life. It's just so beyond ridiculous. While the guy himself is clearly a scumbag and I have comfortably and easily banished from my mind, the overall trend of being unable to find anyone single is really grating on my nerves. It's gotten to the point where it's really difficult to look at any prospect with even the smallest degree of positivity since with my luck it just won't work out. Depressing. There are soooo many men in Toronto but all of a sudden I have this unshakable defeatist attitude that's getting me down like nothing else. To boot, I've managed to meet someone too-good-to-be-true. While there is a teensy-tiny ray of hope, I can't bring myself to look at it with any real enthusiasm: to hope is to open oneself to disappointment, and right now that's all I've been getting so why should this time be any different?

This odd combination of such surreal momentum in my professional life yet such tiresome frustration in my personal life keeps calling to mind this particular phrase: "let's shut our eyes and pretend none of it ever happened." Some weeks ago this popped into my head and like a catchy song I haven't been able to forget it. It may be that it's a line from a movie, a lyric from a song, or maybe I even came up with it myself. Whatever its genesis, it's been stuck in my head and seems to encapsulate much of my current situation. There's more though: to really tie things together in a so-weird-it's-ridiculous kind of way, I stumbled across something I might rather not have in my email today.

Perhaps a year ago I made a new email account since my old address was from elementary school days and bore an appropriately embarrassing name. When I did, I suppose I imported all the emails from my "Saved" folder of the old account. Today, as it happened, I thought I had accidentally drag-and-drop copied an entire other folder into the saved folder, and so I opened it up - my first time doing so since activating my new email - and checked the contents.

What I found inside produced a similar effect as a punch to the gut might. Inside were the last emails I ever received from my two close friends who were killed in a car accident just over five years ago. I don't think I've looked at those in over four years; I'd forgotten I even had them. One email was from the day before the accident, discussing our plans to all go together to the lake the next day - I had replied saying that was the only day I couldn't attend due to an orthodontics appointment. It's chilling to contemplate where I might (or might not) be today had I been in the car with them. "Pretend none of it ever happened" indeed.

Five years later and I still have no idea what to do with that knowledge.

Surreal, surreal, surreal. Life is surreal.

A word on navigation

Alright, so just a quick word:

For the most part I've eliminated the pages feature. They were a rather inconvenient part of the site that was tiresome to update and I'll bet took ages to load. However you still should be able to find the material you want through the search bar to the top right, or simply by selecting tags which I've been pretty good at staying on top of. I've left up the Art and Favourite Things pages because my updating system for them is a little different than the rest of the topics I address.

Hopefully this won't be to disruptive to your browsing.

As always,
Arbiter Elegantiae

Listening To: Daydreaming Part 2

Way back in April I posted a Daydreaming playlist which received a really wonderful response from listeners. The original Daydreaming was just a small compilation from a much larger (142 tracks) playlist I have on my iTunes. Because you all loved the first installment so much I decided to work on a second, which is meant to pick up where the last playlist left off. Unfortunately three of the integral tracks aren't on Grooveshark and cannot be uploaded so it's not exactly how I wanted it. Regardless, it continues the in the same dreamy and mellow vein as the last playlist did. I started with some quiet pieces that highlighted guitar accompaniment, and then transitioned into songs backed by piano. While Daydreaming 1 was dominated by male vocalists I decided to use Daydreaming 2 to explore some of my favourite songstresses. Fear not: you'll still find some excellent Bon Iver, The National, and Beach House, but you'll also get a taste of Bat for Lashes, Florence and the Machine, Cat Power, Dido, and Neko Case.

I don't always get to give my playlists the individual attention they deserve, but for Daydreaming I go the extra mile. I challenge you not to fall in love.

Marvelous Manicure: Christmas 2011

Hello all!

Now that Remembrance Day (or as I like to call it, Novembrance Day) is behind us, it is officially acceptable to start listening to Christmas carols and decorating for the holidays. One of my favourite parts of the holidays is getting to do themed manicures! Last year I took my inspiration from Starbucks' holiday to-go cups, but this year I wanted to do more of a Christmas tree ornament type of thing. I started with Midnight Kiss by China Glaze, which is a molten gold. I followed by doing a very light coating of OPI's Bring On the Bling on just the tips of the nail in a gradient style. Bring On the Bling is a great glitter from the Burlesque collection, and has gold, green, and red micro-glitter: perfect for the holidays. Finally, I accented two nails on each hand with holly berries and leaves, which I created used some nail pens.

 

While I'm on the holiday theme, I may as well attach last-year's Christmas manicure, which I'll probably repeat this year - I loved it! For it I used OPI's Malaga Wine, a dusting of loose red glitter, a white nail pen, and a touch of sliver glitter for the snowflake centres. (Sorry for the blurriness!) Enjoy!

Irish Times

Alright, so due to the sheer volume of material I want to cover I've decided it will be much simpler if I break things up a little bit.  So, this post will be dedicated to my visit to Ireland and the week that preceded it.

As it happened I had one last weekend between France and Ireland during which I got to enjoy Hamburg without dealing with packing and other such craziness.  I took advantage of the sun and the free time to say my final goodbyes to my favourite part of Hamburg: the Alsterarkaden.  Once I had gotten myself some caffeine I set up camp on the steps of the canal, fished out my notebook and started sketching the far side.  When I had first arrived in Germany my work had gifted me with a small company notebook which evolved into something of a travel diary for me.  At first I put in directions, maps, and itineraries, but later I included passing observations, notes to include in my blog, and sketches of particularly interesting subjects.  It is now one of my favourite souvenirs from my trip.

The day was fairly pleasant and uneventful, though I became very irritated with some passing tourists.  You see, down in the canals is a great collection of birds.  Mostly pigeons and seagulls but also swans, all of whom are drawn to the bread hand-outs by locals.  These tourists, however, weren't passing out food.  Instead, they were approaching the human-desensitized wildlife and kicking at them until the focus of their cruelty flew away.  I quietly hoped that they would fall into the canal in the process, and resolved that if they did I wouldn't lift a finger to help them.

The other moment of note was while I was sketching away.  I was listening to Patrick Watson's "Mr. Tom" on my iPod, and there was a street performer about 25 metres away.  He was entertaining the crowd with torch throwing and balancing, and he added to the show by screaming theatrically/maniacally.  Just at that moment, church bells began to toll.  It was such a surreal moment.  It seemed like the kind of audio-mix you see in film sometimes, where the protagonist stares into the distance broodingly while the world whirls past in slow motion.  But, as always happens, the moment passed, and real life restarted.  Below is the Patrick Watson track, which (I think) was really what set the tone for the experience.

The week passed quickly, and next thing I knew it was Friday.  Most of my coworkers from Online were vacationing during my last week, so it was something of a last goodbye for me.  For lunch we all went out for sushi (I'm sorry to say it had nothing on sushi in Vancouver), followed by the best cupcake I've had.  Ever.  Which brings me to a piece of advice: if you ever find yourself in Hamburg, the best bakery of all time is Liebes Bisschen, and the best salad I've ever had the honour to consume can be found at Esszimmer.  You can never go wrong with a mound of fresh greens, great dressing, and baked goat cheese.  Sigh.

But back to Friday.  Anyway, that evening we had another company party.  My employers recently bought a smaller company, and so we had a mixer so all the new employees could get to know one another.  It was a lot of fun, though I got my ass handed to me at foosball.  Apparently that's pretty much all they do during their spare time.

I don't even remember what time I got home at, but luckily my flight wasn't until late afternoon the next day.  I made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare, though I was irritated to discover that the "low-cost" airline charged to check any baggage whatsoever.  Thanks for the heads-up guys!  During the flight I wound up flipping through the airline's magazine, which was strange because I never do that.  However, I wound up stumbling upon a little article about something called City of a Thousand Welcomes.  It is something of a tourism project which aims to build on Ireland's reputation for hospitality.  Basically you sign up online and it will pair you with a host; someone who is passionate about Dublin.  You meet up at a prearranged time and go for tea or a pint, and they personally welcome you to the city and provide you with helpful pointers on how to best enjoy yourself.  Tired of traveling alone all the time, I signed up for the next day.

And it was a good thing I did!  Because I had signed up on such short notice I wound up being hosted by the company's founder.  We met up close to Saint Stephen's Green and Grafton Street and then relocated to Bewley's, a beautiful coffee shop right on Grafton Street.  If I remember correctly, the place was built in the late 19th century.  One of its most striking features is the stained glass windows, created by a famous Irish artist.  Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to get photos of them.  Anyway, in the end I was really pleased I had signed up.  I had a pleasant time with my host, who was happy to provide a wealth of personalized advice on what to do while I was in Dublin.

I spent most of the rest of the day doing a little exploring and shopping around the Grafton Street area.  I also got to stroll through St. Stephen's Green, a famous local park. That night I had planned on making a visit to the world-renowned Temple Bar Pub.  And venture out I did.  Unfortunately the weather had other plans for my night.  It had started raining heavily in the early afternoon, and by the time I left my hotel this had turned into a full-out gale.

Now I'd like to throw in a word about navigating in Europe.  Unlike in North America, where street names can be located on posts on every street corner - where they are readable and helpful - in Europe (I noticed this in both France and Ireland) street names can most of the time be found on small plaques placed on the second level of buildings on intersections.  Not every corner though, oh no.  So, you may find yourself at an intersection and the only way of figuring out where you are is by scanning the surrounding buildings, which may or may not have plaques on them.  Now imagine trying to do this at night, when the rain is blowing so strongly that you've lost count of the number of times your stupid umbrella has flipped inside out. Furthermore, crosswalk signals in Europe operate with different timing. Specifically one is allowed about twenty seconds to get across the road, but once this window is passed you will likely have to wait a good ten minutes or so until the next crossing. Apparently Europeans just ignore this and cross the road whenever they damn well feel like it and waiting around is the unmistakable mark of a tourist. I, however, have a strong respect for the damage vehicles can do to the human body and am more often happier to wait the two extra minutes rather than take a risk in areas where I'm totally unfamiliar with the traffic patterns.  To sum up, navigating was endlessly frustrating.

I wandered around the streets just long enough to get thoroughly wind-blown, bedraggled and angry.  To boot, Irish men - unlike German men - have no issue with voicing their admiration of passing women: a "pleasantry" which was rather unappreciated in my windswept and disoriented state.  Plus they were all like 50.  I got completely lost and wound up just giving up on finding the damn place.  Once back at my hotel I headed down to the bar where I nursed a whiskey sour while glaring at the rugby game playing on the TVs.

Weather-wise, the next day was more of the same.  The day started rainy and got progressively worse.  Despite the foul conditions I wandered over to Trinity College Dublin where I saw the Book of Kells (a medieval-era illuminated copy of the New Testament) and the "Long Room".  The exhibit showing in the Long Room was on the court of Louis XIV and consisted largely of books.  The Long Room was another of my favourite places from my European tour.  The photo (like most photos) doesn't quite do it justice.  The atmosphere is much more murky as the windows are all covered over to protect the books. The sense of space inside is so special though - it's the type of place I'd love to have a few hours to camp out within and just take in the surroundings.  The book of Kells exhibit was also really interesting, and included several video displays which demonstrated the medieval technique of book-making.  I was particularly interested in the ways in which the personalities of the various scribes and artists manifested in their different styles of ornamentation and writing.

 

Unfortunately shortly after I left Trinity College and was making my way down Grafton Street the weather took a serious turn for the worse. Once my boots had become thoroughly soaked I decided to go back to my hotel and wait to hear from my one contact in the country, a gentleman I had been introduced to during my visit to Düsseldorf.

Unexpectedly I wound up having a thoroughly lovely afternoon. Having become slightly chilled from all the rain, I headed for the shower and set up my laptop to play some of my favourite jazz. It was a big shower and I wasn't pressed for time, so I wound up laying on my back and singing along (the shower is the only circumstance in which I will sing) to Billie Holiday, Julie London, and Ella Fitzgerald.  While I had had several frustrations leading up until that moment, I couldn't help but feel completely contented and at ease.  I was in Ireland, a place I've dreamt of visiting for the last six years.  While Dublin wasn't my first choice - I've always been more interested in Ireland's smaller, pastoral, southern communities - it was Ireland nonetheless and I was euphoric.

After taking a good long shower I reluctantly got out and began the grooming process, starting with drying my newly-auburn hair.  Thanks to a spark of intuition (and some common sense) I delayed on getting dressed or putting on makeup, suspecting that thanks to the now-flooding conditions (thanks, Irish weather!) my acquaintance would be cancelling our dinner date.  Well, I was right, and though I was disappointed I decided to take advantage of being stuck inside and do something decadent. So, I ordered room service and snuggled in my jammies (yes, I still call them that).  I was thoroughly impressed by the hotel's clam chowder, and their cheesecake was also good though nothing to brag about.  I was less impressed by my entertainment of choice: Pan Am. Eugh, that'll be on the chop-block soon enough I'm sure. I was hoping for something like Mad Men and instead I got something along the lines of The Playboy Club, which I couldn't even finish one episode of.

I can't even begin to express how excited I was the next day when I woke up to sunshine! Feeling elated by the beautiful weather I got dressed as fast as I could and started out for all the landmarks I had wanted to see but hadn't yet. I started with Christ Church Cathedral, which has turned out to be one of my favourite parts of my whole trip.  Built up on the foundations of an older church, it is a sprawling structure with gorgeous stonework and a wonderful atmosphere. I finally got to experience sun streaming through stained-glass windows, and I took a lot of time just taking it all in.  It also has a great crypt which you are able to explore.  Christ Church was a popular filming site for the television series The Tudors, and in the crypts were several of the costumes that appeared in the series. Another surprise I found in the crypt was an exhibit of a mummified cat and rat.  The pair had become trapped in the cathedral's organ in the 1850s, and when they were finally discovered they were in a mummified state. It sounds terribly morbid but it was actually very interesting.

 

Attached to Christ Church Cathedral is a museum which explores the viking presence in Ireland over the centuries. While vikings aren't my favourite history subject it was an interesting exhibit (though more aimed at families I think) and I even got to learn how to write my name in "futhark", ancient viking runes.  After that I wandered over to Liffey river and the north shore.  I made it over to the Ha'Penny Bridge, as well as the 1785 Four Courts. I wandered along the (beautiful) river side and made my way up to a main traffic artery, O'Connell Street, and then up to the famous Henry Street where I managed to find some gifts for my family.  By that time it was well into the afternoon, so I made a brief stop at my hotel before returning to the sights on the south side of the river.  I got around to seeing 1752's Merrion Square, as well as (the exteriors of) the National Gallery (1864), Leinster House (1745), and the National Museum (1890).  Running out of time, I then hurried over to Saint Patrick's Cathedral, first built in the 1190s, but renovated and restored over the years.

This was another experience I wager I'll have for the rest of my life. I arrived just as the sun was setting, and as it so happened the young boys' choir was practicing. My camera died almost immediately after my arrival, but on the bright side this allowed me to enjoy the music without distraction. I quietly seated myself in the nave, basking in the glow coming from the high stained-glass windows. The choir's singing was nothing short of celestial. While I find traditional choir music moving under any circumstances and am also clearly in awe of medieval religious sites, the combination of the Gothic cathedral and the music that was specifically intended for that setting was nearly overwhelming. Though I am staunchly atheist I would absolutely attend church if every experience was like that. Amusingly enough, because it was a practice the priest would often interrupt the boys would loud criticisms and comments on what needed to be adjusted. While I would have loved hearing the music all the way through I must admit that it was rather funny listening to the very particular priest.  Unfortunately I couldn't stay long as the cathedral was closing, but I will always cherish the memory.

After leaving the Cathedral I wanted to complete one last thing on my to-do list: get fish and chips. The Irish Republic is certainly not England, and isn't even Britain, but I decided it was close enough and I desperately wanted to try fish and chips - a favourite of mine - in its native land. When I had met up with my City of a Thousand Welcomes host I had mentioned this, and he kindly recommended the best place to find some. Luckily this wasn't far off, so I picked some up en route to my hotel and was thoroughly satisfied.

My friend and I had rescheduled our dinner meeting for the next night, so once back at my hotel I got myself organized and waited for word.  Unfortunately due to a prior commitment we had to push back our meeting time, and I had a vague feeling that things might not come to happen at all. Sure enough the hours passed and with them went my certainty that we would be meeting up at all. Finally, at shortly before 11 he messaged me to let me know that his engagement had run long and he wouldn't be able to make it. I bitterly (and perhaps a little unfairly) thought to myself that that had to be a first: imagine getting stood up two nights in a row by the same person! To add salt to the wound, had I not expected to be seeing this person (I'll remind you: the only person I knew in the entire country) I likely would have chosen to visit a different part of the country more in alignment with my interests. I don't regret going to Dublin and I did enjoy much of what I saw there, but I didn't relish the "adjustments" to my social calendar.

The next day was once again sunny and clear, but for me it was off to the airport and back to Hamburg. Both the ride to the airport (via bus shuttle) and the flight were unremarkable (thank goodness), and I made it back "home" with no trouble at all; with only two days left at my workplace and less than a week to spend in Europe...

I take it all back

If you've just come from the Tumblr account, ignore this.

BUT for those of you who haven't, here's an update about the site.  After a brief and unsatisfying affair with Tumblr I am crawling back to Blogspot.  While I'm still going to be making changes to the layout and appearance I have learned that Blogspot is simply easier to work with when it comes to labeling posts, sorting material, posting photos, etcetera.

My apologies for the confusion,

Arbiter Elegantiae

P.S. Happy November!