Friday, June 16
Yesterday we went in a cathedral in Malahide, Ireland. It was beautiful! It was also so quiet, even though several people were in there. At one point, the only noise was the clinking of coins dropping into an offering box and the click of a lighter as an older woman lit a candle. I wanted to take a picture of it, but something about it all felt too sacred to try to capture and save. But I love cathedrals.
Today we went to Dublin. Bustling, lively, historic Dublin. We bought hop-on, hop-off passes for a red, double-decker bus, and sat up top. The Irish wind teased strands of hair from my braid, and I zipped my rain jacket all the way up.
We toured the city all day. A highlight was definitely St. Patrick’s cathedral. It stood tall in all of its historic splendor, pointing out the glory of the Lord for whom it was made.
We toured inside of it, and my literature nerd self was in heaven.
Jonathan Swift (author of Gulliver’s Travels, “A Modest Proposal,” etc.) once preached there. Got a picture with his pulpit. Touched it. Fangirled over it.
I also saw his grave right there in the cathedral, as well as a case containing old copies of his work and – get this – a cast of his skull. What even…
But it gets better: there was also a death mask of his corpse’s face. So I now know what freshly-departed J. Swift’s head looked like, both with and without the skin. Ick.
Got a picture.
I also saw where Oscar Wilde was born and lived, as well as Trinity College and some places related to James Joyce.
Dublin was so much fun. I loved hopping on and off the tour bus and exploring the city. But as amazing as Dublin was, the countryside was all the more amazing and the highlight of the trip. I can’t wait to share it with you next time!
Thank you for journeying with me,
P.S. This is the 3rd entry in my Europe Travel Journal. To read the first two entries, follow the links below: