As things begin, so must they end . . . so true, as we find ourselves this morning full circle on our Irish adventure, enjoying our last few hours in the city before heading to the airport.
Wes and I are back at the Internet cafe (having tired of the slow recharging of the playbook, I have tossed it into the River Liffy). The lovely girl behind the counter remembered no milk/sugar for my Americano . . . that is one of the fondest memories I have gathered here - the attentiveness and kindness of the people, young and old.
I officially declare Tuesday, July 2 to be Marcus A Sheridan Day. Sandy has quietly been waiting all week to follow the footsteps of the 20th century Irish revolutionaries, and I swear he could teach a lecture at Trinity College and put those old, robed geezers to shame. I am thinking we could have made a little cash yesterday if we had put him on the Hop On/Hop Off and given him a microphone. Don't get me wrong, we all enjoyed what Dublin laid before us yesterday, but I would use the word pilgrimage in reference to Sandy's day.
Pam and Dave, comfortable on the streets here, spent the p.m. visiting the National Museum, saying hello to the Caravaggio in the Gallery, circling the Georgian doors on Merriam Square, and then strolled through the shops in search of Irish treasure.
Nancy luxuriated in the atmosphere at the National Gallery (particularly their excellent gift shop), found her way back to the fold at the Starbucks oasis (her coffee radar helped guide her there) then walked/ran with Sandy to make the tour at the historic jail (photos to follow).
Wes and I headed to the Gallery - he relaxed (code for Blackberried) while I visited with old and new friends - Renoir, Picasso (trying to get him . . . failing), Whistler, Goya, Sargent, Gainsborough, etc. I enjoyed the people in the gallery as much as the art, particularly the little ones with their gallery-packs, searching for pieces, then plopping down with their crayons and coloring.
Sandy put miles under his feet by heading out to the Barracks museum, meeting us back in the centre for coffee, then heading back out to the jail with Nancy.
We all met at O'Neil's, a charming, multi-floored pub in the centre for a beer, and shared our final "Irish" supper at San Lorenzo, an Italian restaurant - thanks to the mainland gang for making it an anniversary gift - we think we might be able to milk this 30 yr thing all the way to 31!!
So, there we have it. Our next blog will come from America - nice place to visit, but . . . It ain't Ireland!
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