WHO SAYS DUBLIN'S NOT HAUNTED?

My camera has run our of battery so I regret no photo this time.
Last Sunday afternoon I went for a long walk around where I live, particularly to The Bleeding Horse tavern in Camden Street. It is mentioned at least twice in Ulysses and they have quotes set in concrete at each entrance. A board outside advertised what was available and at the end was a note:- Writers'Night To-night 8 p.m.' so I walked in to the bar and asked about it. The barman was a pleasant young man with red hair and designer bristle.
"The writers come to-night to read their work, Any one can come'" and he showed me the space, unchanged since 1904 when James Joyce wrote about it. And at the back the very benches where Joyce and later Brendan Behan had sat.
Ï'll be here,'I promised myself and dashed home to the hostel to change, slacks and T shirt did not seem appropriate for meeting the ghosts of Joyce and Behan.
Shortly before 8p.m.I walked through the bar to the 'Writers'space' A notice hung on the railing 'This Space Reserved @ 8p.m. I ordered a glass of wine and waited, and waited, and waited. On the wall near the bar was a notice BEWARE OF PICKPOCKETS AND LOOSE WOMEN. I looked around the bar, full of little spaces, and stairways leading to balconies overlooking everything.The afternoon shift had gone, the bar staff flitted busily. I could not see my red headed friend anywhere. Finally qabout 8.25 I asked
a barman, probably Romanian, 'When will the writers night start?'
He looked bewildered, asked a rapid question of a more senior bartender.
Neither knew of a Writers'Night.
An Irishman came in and began setting up a sound system on the little dais which housed the benches Behan and Joyce had once sat on.
Writers'Night? He had never heard of a band called that.
So I came home and spent the rest of Sunday listening to an Australian motorbike fanatic from Perth and an Irishman called Brendon who rode a beautiful red Honda.
And I pass the Bleeding Horse every day when I walk into Camden Street, but I have not seen that red headed bar tender since.

COINCIDENCES NEVER END

There was I seated on the bottom bunk of dormitory 317 on Citi hostel. A knock at the door and in walked two beautiful young back packers from France. We introduced ourselves, one is Anna Yse and the other Rhiannon, quelle coincidence marveilleuse! Two of my grand daughters are Anna Lisa and Rhiannon. So while these two stored their luggage we discussed, without mentioning the mentioning the Rainbow Warrior, Rugby, and French movies, their favourite being Énsemble, cést tout, which is the film made from Anna Gavalda's marvellous novel, which we call 'Hunters and Gatherers. Personally I thing Ensemble cést Tout'a much better title.
They have headed out now to do whatever young people do on a Friday night, I have forgotten, it's so long ago, but they have promised to be quiet when they come in.

COINCIDENCES NEVER END

There was I seated on the bottom bunk of dormitory 317 on Citi hostel. A knock at the door and in walked two beautiful young back packers from France. We introduced ourselves, one is Anna Yse and the other Rhiannon, quelle coincidence marveilleuse! Two of my grand daughters are Anna Lisa and Rhiannon. So while these two stored their luggage we discussed, without mentioning the mentioning the Rainbow Warrior, Rugby, and French movies, their favourite being Énsemble, cést tout, which is the film made from Anna Gavalda's marvellous novel, which we call 'Hunters and Gatherers. Personally I thing Ensemble cést Tout'a much better title.
They have headed out now to do whatever young people do on a Friday night, I have forgotten, it's so long ago, but they have promised to be quiet when they come in.
Now that is why I prefer hostels when I am travelling. Such a meeting just would not happen at the Dublin Hilton.

DUBLIN'S GREAT BUT I WOULDN'T LIKE TO DRIVE THERE

For some reason this piece posted itself on line before I had written more than the subject line. To-day was the sort of day I came north of the equator to avoid, cold and wet. Cars had their lights on all day, and we could hear tyres squishing on wet roads as they passed the hostel. And I shivered. I brought cotton blouses and Tshirts with me so about three oçlock in between showers I dared a break in the showers ans headed down Camden Street where there are four very good charity shops. By spending thirty euros I came home with a smart warm coat which I shall wear for years to come, two warm blouses and two pullovers, so I am no longer shivering.
In Talbot street near the 'Prick with the stick'statue of James Joys I found this pavement artist, An artist certainly, but at the end of each day he rolls up his canvases, returning the next day to stick them down again with duck tape. Ingenious.
There is a trombonist busker near him who plays Irish blues.
Dublin is indeed a vibrant city, but perhaps because it developed from a riverside settlement I don't think there is one uncurved street, and streets change their names every two or three blocks. They d0 have a sensible rule for pedestrian crossings. Painted on the road is 'Look left'even if the little man in the traffic light is showing red if nothing is coming pedestrians may cross. then from the centre another sign says ;'look right'and the same rule applies.
But I still would not like to drive here.

COME DOWN TO CAMDEN

The photo will follow.
There are a few shopping areas in the world which delight me by their ambience, the sense of 'village'' and the unique people one meets there. I discovered Camden Street when I was staying in St Kevins Parade. Now I have moved nearer to the city and to my delight I walked to the corner of Charlemont Street which has a nice hostel almost next door to a Turkish kebab and hamburger shop. I turned left, walked a few metres and there I was, at the top of Camden street.
This morning I strolled down to get my eyes tested for another pair of glasses. The lady optician had a beautiful brogue she did all the things optometrists like Brian Dennehy does in Oamaru. She apologised for the price. When I translated her euros into NZ dollars they are going to be cheaper than my last pair, even allowing the pensioner discount. I need another pair because my frames disintegrated and I stupidly did not get a spare pair before I left home.
I continued strolling and explored some charity shops, Irish Cancer Society, Elder Action, but I have to remember my weight - 20 ks plus 5 ks carry on, and if I don't get Ulysses finished I shall need every kilo in the allowance,just for that.
At lunch time I found a lovely simple cafe which served, among other dishes éggs on toast, any way you want them'so I had two poached eggs on toast which were perfectly cooked and served with two sprigs of chives, delicious.
Next I saw a shop window advertising hair cuts Ádults 7 euros. The barber was giving two of his clients basic cuts, I think they are 'number 1s'' There was no chat, such as one hears in more up market salons, but the barber concentrated on getting the hair right.
The barber was fortyish with the hawk like look middle eastern men have. When I climbed into his chair he wanted to know was I on holiday?
No I am researching a book.
Where was I staying?
Citi hostel.
If I wanted a flat he could help me find one.
Was my husband in Dublin?
My husband died fourteen years ago.
But you need a partner.
I wondered if he was going to offer help finding one. But he snipped and shaped for nearly half an hour and gave me the best haircut I have had since I left Waitaki and Lily Blakely's care.
Finally I called into Tesco,s and stocked up on fresh fruit and good muesly because this hostel does not serve fruit of yoghurt with their breakfast. One Braeburn apple, juicy and crisp with an ENZA sticker on it cost half a euro.
Yes I like Camden Street, it's villagey like Jackson Street in Petone.

OH MY DUBAI!

Last year I passed through Dubai airport in a wheel chair and just glimpsed things in passing, like the airport customs officials all with black moustaches and all wearing identical pristine Arab robes.. This year I strolled around exploring. The concourse is bigger than a cathedral, an imaginative construction of glass, stainless steel and concrete. There are gardens with full grown trees and ferns and places to stand beside tall steep sculptures while being photographed. Singapore was my favourite airport for a long time, but I find myself liking Dubai more and more.

SEEN AT AN AIRPORT

Carefully arranged brown curls
blowing wild over tanned
and polished shoulders
real snakeskin shoes
one her feet
a dragon tattoo
on her ankle
too much flesh
on her thighs
and a big bag of chips
in her hand

But a nice lady never the less, she let me take the photos.

SEEN IN CROATIA

A STREET IN ZAGREB

Men with beer bellies
strut, hands on hips
even the short ones
look down on everybody

In the cafes
boys with no hips
dart around serving
salads and slivovitz
to sunburned sightseers.