You Can't Get Lost in Dublin

I wrote a term paper in high school about a novel called "You Can't Get Lost in Capetown." I wrote about hair and about how the "Coloured" protagonist cannot escape her racial designation- even in the melting pot of capetown- bc of the corkscrews in her hair.

You can't get lost in Dublin for a different reason- the city and the people won't let you.

I arrived Friday evening and went for a wander and a beer. By the time I was done buying drinks for all the people that had bought me drinks it was 2am.

I woke later than hoped saturday morning and walked north towards Croke Park- site of the "Bloody Sunday" massacre in 1920 when British "irregulars" opened fire on the crowd and players in a Gaelic football match (and yes Michael Collins had ordered the assassination of 14 English "spies" the previous evening).

Rememberance Park in Parnell Sq

I haven't often so enjoyed a museum as the Gaelic Athletic Association headquarters. For a student of Irish history, sporting culture, and sporting nationalism- its a treat. The ancientry of the culture shone through- the first references to Irish games are 1827 bc- a millenium before the original olympic games. And to see the gentlemen I wrote papers about in college- Michael Davitt, Charles Parnell, Michael Collins, Cusack, and their involvement in the "construction" of Ireland through a revival of Gaelic sport...

And frankly hurling is the coolest friggin thing I've seen in a long time. A combination of soccer, lacrosse, ice hockey, and bandy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXOmwQGw9kU

I walked along the river all the way to the Guinness factory. Don't these pictures remind you of Baltimore?

Looking west up the Liffey River

Ha'Penny Bridge looking East

Beautiful Rowhouses

I've no idea what a "liver assurance" is but Dublin needs a couple.

I also stumbled into a bank protest march (the Irish have a right to be angry at their banks)

Dublin has had 4 Nobel prizes in literature (Joyce not one of them), the most ancient continuous culture in Europe, and is the smallest country ever to qualify for the World Cup. Not bad for 3m people.

Sunday I went to the 6 Nations Rugby match bw England and Ireland. The biggest Int'l sporting event in Ireland this year.

Ireland stood proud but fell 12-6.

National Anthems at Lansdown Rd

Having seen a bit of the country written out of history, the country reconstructed through English eyes and words- I can only say. I am proud to wear the green. I am very proud to be Irish.

Teammates...

The single most important factor in my great experience over here has been my squash teammates- both Bath Cup (Oxford & Cambridge Club) and Middlesex League (Pimlico). This weekend reminded me why.

I'd been invited to play for the Escorts against the Oxford University Varsity Team. It was a group of "old boys" (Oxford grads) and me.

Oli generously got up an hour early so as to show me around Oxford. What a chap! Chris Hobbs (my teammate in 3 organizations now!) also joined.

Hobbs, Me, and Oli (l-r)

We got off the bus here

Oli took me around his alma mater- the stunningly beautiful Christ Church College.

We had lunch in the famed dining hall- inspiration for Hogwarts (they filmed a fair bit here).

We next visited the (strangely shaped) cathedral.

Before heading off for a whistlestop tour of other Oxford attractions.

Radecliffe Dome

Bodleian Library

Other end of Bodleian Courtyard

Bridge of Sighs

Lovely stream behind Christ Church

Less said about the squash the better! I played #2 against a young Singaporean who dove and split his way around the court. I somehow won the first game but got chopped in the next 3. The Oxford team is strong and should do well in the University match against Cambridge in a few weeks.

Through a strange set of circumstances I played the entire consolation draw of the British Amateur Squash Open on Sunday. I played Hobbs (see picture above) in the first round so Saturday night in Oxford quickly turned into a drink buying competition. Hard to out generous an Oxford chap on his home turf.

To make a long story short I pulled out an epically poor match (the initially large crowd of spectators rapidly dwindled) before playing some very patient and precise squash to win my quarterfinal.

The gentlemen I encountered in the semis was a different class and my mental and physical state only exacerbated the situation. A buddy of mine offered to take pictures and they are notable for the following.
1. Very few of me serving.
2. My opponent always looks perfectly in position and relaxed.
3. I am corkscrewed into some seriously uncomfortable situations.

I was the last member of my Middlesex League team in the tourney and I was quite touched they all stayed to cheer me on the whole evening. An American being roared on by Englishmen at the Royal Automobile Club- the spiritual home of English Squash. Not something I expected nor will forget.