How Sarah Sees It

A Slow-Growing Love: Dublin Week 12

Some places you go to and the beauty of the atmosphere hits you with a sensational high and you immediately are enamored. Pulling into the overcast skies of Dublin’s city centre for the first time on a double decker bus, which seemed so foreign to me at the time, I don’t recall having this connection. There were no green fields or smiling leprechauns to greet me, but rather cold, rain and strangers.

Now not only has the sunshine peeked out of its cover of clouds, the culture and life of Dublin and Ireland has shown itself in its subtle manner.

Walking around city centre I can easily navigate the streets while still finding hidden gems. One of those is a pocket of space called Smithfield. I had been to a pub in the area before, but hadn’t really gotten a proper look around. The light-colored cobblestone seemed to complement the spacious buildings. The area was once hustling with live stock and crowds for an open market and held a horse market until recently. It now stands still and beautiful from a renovation project in the 90s. It didn’t quite live up to its potential of attracting new crowds, but its quiet anticipation fosters enough space for a cultural district to grow. The dodgyness of the low crowds and unlit overshadowing lights make its merits debatable. Yet I can’t help hope the abandoned amusement park will find its life in days to come.

Below the tall empty warehouses, is a movie theatre which offers a selection of independent films. As part of my duties as entertainment editor for the student website oxygen.ie, I was invited to a press screening for a film shot in Northern Ireland. Although I had an essay to write, I decided to take a break and see what the film had to offer. I wasn’t expecting much, all I could find with my research beforehand was a trailer, but was sucked in by the movie’s suspenseful journey and creative storytelling. Its message of hope in the darkness of the streets of modern day Derry was very touching. The way it moved me reminded me of this underrated attractiveness Ireland seemed to have. With the locality and small size of the country, great works of art were very accessible.

The humble humour of the people also made enjoying this place easier for an outsider like myself. Working together with my group of Irish students on a news bulletin proved this point. When we discovered there were no wireless mics available for the news reader, we used a handheld covered by a laptop, which as my friend commented, made it look like we were producing a bulletin from our basement. When we were struggling to get the green screen to work for the weather segment, we decided to move the camera around to make it look like I was flying around Ireland. Overall we ended up with a fair grade and a finished product produced with many laughs.

I’ve definitely learned to enjoy the journey rather than the final destination through my experiences of exploring. After another session of Greek dancing, my friend and I walked to the North side of city centre to try and find a drumming circle I had found on facebook. On the way we saw the sun setting over an old cathedral, different variations of street art, and the prettiest house gardens with amazing smelling flowers. The address we were after took us to an alley way where children were playing outside and my friend said looked like “the projects,” but was thankfully by a bus stop anyways.

The next day we joined DCU’s interfaith center staff and others from the university in hiking Croagh Patrick. The mountain is legend to have been where the saint spent 40 nights in prayer before expelling all the snakes out of Ireland. Some religiously devout climb it barefoot as a pilgrimage and penance at the end of July, but we found even with our shoes on the journey was quite daunting. I was making good pace, teasing my friends who were making frequent stops behind me before we made it to the steepest part of the hill. There were people making their way down with walking sticks as we tried to choose wisely which rocks to trust for the climb. When we did finally make it to the top, the cold wind sent us wanting to head down again. Daleria set in and we were contemplating why “prof pic” was pronounced with a short “o” when profile sounded more like the long “o” in professor. (I know mind blowing stuff). We were as they say “absolutely wrecked” by the time we reached the bus. Luckily the 5 hour hike ended with a 4 course meal and plenty of water.