Daily Photo: The Guinness Factory & The River Liffey

For a long time, I didn’t particularly like this photograph. I was in Dublin, wandering around with a camera, and somewhere along the way I had the opportunity to cross the River Liffey and photograph the famous Guinness gates. I didn’t. At the time I was with extended family and the idea of making the effort seemed slightly unnecessary. I had already seen plenty of photographs of Guinness, and I was quite happy wandering the streets on my own side of the river. Sometimes, apparently, I can be remarkably efficient at talking myself out of taking a photograph.

It was only later, when I looked back at the images from the trip, that this one started to grow on me. There is something almost ridiculously Irish about the combination of the Guinness brewery and the Liffey. If someone had asked me to put together a photograph that summed up Dublin without resorting to leprechauns, shamrocks or a man playing a fiddle in a pub, this would probably have been somewhere near the top of the list.

The photograph itself is a little more complicated than simply pointing a camera at a brewery. The Guinness buildings sit behind the old brick wall, while the Liffey provides the reflection in the foreground. The bare winter tree sits almost perfectly in the middle, tying the two halves together, and for once the river was actually behaving itself. It was still enough to give me a reflection without requiring me to do anything clever.

I suppose that is why I’ve come back to this photograph. It reminds me that photographs don’t always reveal themselves immediately. Sometimes you take one because the opportunity is there, forget about it for years, and then discover that the photograph you almost didn’t bother taking has quietly become one of the better reminders of where you’ve been.

And, in this case, it is difficult to get much more Dublin than Guinness, the Liffey and a tree that looks like it has been standing there wondering what all the fuss is about. It also gave me a reason to visit the Guinness Factory next time I was in Dublin.

Daily Photo: Brassière or Brasserie?

Before arriving in Dublin, I’d been given a vague rundown of what we’d be doing and an even vaguer idea of where we’d be staying. So, to fill the time on the very long flight from Singapore to Heathrow, I decided to work my way through a bit of Dublin’s history in a book I’d brought with me, rather than sitting through the seemingly endless selection of inflight movies, which always appears to consist of romantic comedies, love-filled dramas and Mamma Mia on almost permanent rotation.

I figured a little reading might be more useful, although I use the word “useful” rather generously. Most of what I was reading would probably never come in handy unless I found myself in a local pub quiz in some small Irish village. Among the random bits and pieces was a mention of George’s Street Arcade. I’d been told about the arcade because it was one of the vague places that might be worth wandering around while we were in Dublin.

So imagine my surprise when, two days after Christmas, I was wandering the streets of Dublin, quietly humming the well-known tune of “Cockles and Mussels”, when I turned a corner and there it was.

George’s Street Arcade.

The entrance seemed to guide me in through a collection of carefully placed Christmas trees, and inside there was a quiet, post-Christmas lull. Overhead, Victorian ironwork framed a soft glow from the lingering festive lights, while the red brick walls provided shelter from the passing drizzle. The whole place had a slow, agreeable rhythm to it.

People drifted between stalls piled high with faded vinyl, pre-loved clothing and paperbacks whose pages seemed to smell faintly of someone else’s history. The smell of coffee filled the chilly air, footsteps echoed softly across the worn tiles, and the muted chatter of shoppers gave the place the sort of atmosphere that encouraged you to slow down and have a look around, even if you had no particular idea what you were looking for.

I wandered around for a while, taking it all in, before eventually heading back out onto South Great George’s Street. I stood there for a moment, looking around to see if anything else caught my eye, then headed off in the direction of St Stephen’s Green and hoped, as I often do in unfamiliar cities, that I wouldn’t get lost.

Although I did manage to misread a sign across the road. At first glance, I thought it said Brassière Sixty Six, which seemed like a remarkably large and rather upmarket shop devoted entirely to bras. The window display seemed a little odd, but then again, I wasn’t entirely sure what the Dublin lingerie market was like. It took me a moment to realise that it actually said Brasserie Sixty Six, a popular Dublin restaurant.

Which suddenly explained why the clientele appeared to be overwhelmingly male.

Updates & Changes

So, I’ve decided to make a few changes to the layout of this here blog. If things seem to have changed dramatically next time you visit, it’s all part of a master plan. Hopefully (with fingers crossed🤞), the photos with appear larger on most devices with a change in size to the titles as well. I hope you enjoy.

If you’ve got a sec …. more from Dublin

Don’t forget you can click on the catergory names above each post to see more photos related to that place. For example, you can give it ago here it Dublin 🇮🇪.

Daily Photo – Waiting for buses near Trinity College

I stumbled across this photo while looking for something completely different. I took it one evening when I was heading across Dublin to Tara Street Station. From memory, I’d come from O’Connell Street via one of the bridges that cross the River Liffey when, in heavy traffic, I came across the Thomas Moore statue just as the evening sky was turning a lovely bluish-purple.

Daily Photo – St Stephens Green in Dublin

This is St Stephens Green, a few days after Christmas on a chilly Dublin afternoon. It almost seems impossible to believe it wasn’t always the manicured Victorian park it is today.  In the 17th century, the area was used as land for grazing livestock. It then became a popular dueling spot during the 18th century as men would settle disputes with pistols at dawn in the park. Around this time, public executions including hangings were held in the area while in more recent times the park featured a statue of King George II that had stood since 1758. That was, until it was blown up the day after the coronation of George VI by Irish Republicans in 1937 

The Molly Malone Statue in Dublin

While walking the streets of Dublin’s fair city, I turned a corner onto Church Lane where I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone. Approaching the statue of the famous young lady and her cart, I joined a small crowd of people who were, like me, spending a few minutes taking in the statue before moving on with their day. So, my question is this. Is young Molly really dressed appropriately to be pushing a wheelbarrow filled with Cockles and Mussels through narrow, cobblestone streets? I would have thought a low cut dress wouldn’t have been the most practical of garments to be wearing, but then again, maybe I’m showing my age. Or, maybe it’s one of those things that us males simply don’t understand. Far be it for me to be giving out fashion advice to ladies, after all I can’t even go shopping for trousers or shirts without needing some sort of female fashion consultant or advisory group to oversee my choices. However, if people want to make statues of well endowed ladies in low cut tops, who am I to argue!

Oscar Wilde House

I left St Stephen’s Green where among other things I had been watching squirrels and talking to a man named Daniel who was feeding pigeons. From there, I walked for some time, in no-particular direction taking in the streets of Dublin. Every so often, I would come to an intersection where I would decide on the direction I took by way of how interesting the street seemed. If nothing seemed appealing, I would simply head off along a path. This amused me for some time, until I came to an intersection where Merrion Street West, Merrion Street Lower, Merrion Street North and Clare Street all converged. Crossing the road I spied a helpful disc stuck to the side of a building by the Dublin Tourism office. Like most places around the world, they put these up on buildings to help people like me know that this building is worth taking note of. 

In this case the plaque read ‘Oscar Wilde 1854 – 1900’, Poet, Dramist, Wit, Lived Here 1855 – 1878.’ Taking a second to process this information, it suddenly dawned on me that I had inadvertently and quite by chance come across Merrion Square and the home of the one and only Oscar Wilde. While disappointed the building was closed, I was nevertheless pleased with my find. I took a minute to take in my surroundings as people pushed past me on the wintry afternoon, clearly annoyed at the valuable space I was taking up for no apparent reason. Making up my mind that I needed to digest this find a wee bit further, I immediately headed for the nearest pub, where I ordered a pint of Guinness and settled in to read about the life and times of the famous Oscar Wilde.