Day 19 - The Incredible Zany Ineffable Opentop Bus Tour

Yes, I said in London "why do a tour?", especially one of those open top bus tours. I studied history at university and literature - a large part of this was of the English variety hence I was well equipped to explore London on my own initiative. Dublin is a different story. I know James Joyce hung out here for awhile before heading to the continent. Yeats is Dublin's darling poet. Guinness, Kilkenny. But what else do I know about Dublin, let alone Ireland? I therefore submit to an open top bus tour.

As opposed to most of these tours  I am given commentary by the actual driver, and not a cheap pair of plastic ear buds that keep falling out and a pre-recorded voice that is out of sync with where you are. The tour is acceptable. I must go to the Guiness Factory, Trinity College, the Jameson Distillery ... The Writer's Museum. For most of the circuit I'm the only one aboard. In Sydney you see a lot folks cruising through Pyrmont atop these red double deckers. This could be frustrating: I worked in Pyrmont and seeing these people cruise past as if there wasn't anything else to do in the world made me, well, want to hop on.

The driver points out a statue of Oscar Wilde, reclining in gaudy clothes and grinning at the house where he lived before he left Ireland to become part of the English establishment.

I hop off at O'Connell St, the main thoroughfare north of the Liffey and have a beer and meal at the pub chain Madigans. A typical Irishman of the last generation recounts tales of the town. I can't understand a word he says. Yes he's got a thick Irish accent, but he's drunk more than camel at a refuelling stop on route to Mecca through the Sahara carrying seven bags of trinkets while draped in five Persian carpets for sale at the bazaar. One thing I do understand. His round blue eyes sparkle when he says, "Better get a taxi if you're heading to Lower Gardiner - that place is a bit rough. Rather be safe." He sways. "Wouldn't want to see you" - he rocks back and forth - "knifed would I?" This statement is accompanied with an upward stabbing action. "This city has drug problem."

I take my leave during a pause in his ramblings and eat a hearty Irish stew. Later I forget his advice, luckily without consequence.