It looks like someone from Dublin visited Ann Arbor and was inspired by a certain Ann Arbor institution. I draw particular attention to the model, paint job, and typography on the delivery van.
I give them credit for managing to locate themselves on Reuben Street. If only Baggot Street were actually “Baguette Street”…
I’m back from holiday in London and Morocco. Had a great time; blog posts to come. Despite taking the day off work to recover (laundry, shopping, emails, etc.), I didn’t find time to sort through my photos today.
In the meantime, though, I’ll see if I can generate some conversation here by sharing some “before and after” photos of my beard. Beard, you say? Well, I couldn’t shave in the desert, so once we got to Marrakech, I looked like this:
I trimmed it a bit, ending up like this (taken this morning, back in Dublin):
I was tempted to keep the beard, but I decided that trimming it was going to turn out to be a lot of work. So I’m back to normal:
I know beards are trendy these days in the US (but not at all in Morocco!), and I’m always a bit contrarian about trends. Is it time for me to give in to the facial hair phenomenon?
As a rule, I don’t rush into decisions. While growing up, I could never make decisions about little things, like whether to get a ride to school or take the bus, or what to drink with dinner. But I’ve always prided myself on being able to make good decisions about major matters in life. I ponder things for a long time, and eventually reasoning and gut feeling align with each other. This is, I suppose, largely because I have trouble not doing things thoroughly.
Since there are so many rooms for rent in Dublin now (so many people have been laid off during the recession or need to make some extra money for the mortgage crisis), I spent a huge amount of time this month scouring ads and visiting places. I was especially selective at first, but as the month rolled on, I became restless, wishing to find a place soon so that I could at last get settled somewhere. Through looking at places, I gained a better understanding of what sorts of things I could expect to find and what I couldn’t. I also learned that the most desirable places (which I focused on) were still in high demand because the few of us looking were concentrating in these areas. In fact, one place I had been seriously considering had already been taken, so I didn’t want to miss another good one.
On Dec. 13, near the end of my period of agitation, I visited four places. I did not at all like three of them, but one—where I eventually moved—was suitable in a number of ways: a central location, a quiet street, room for friends visiting from out of town, a large kitchen and table for meals, at least one roommate with good taste in food, and no television. It seemed like a good fit, and while there was one more place on my list to see (that I wouldn’t be able to see for another day or two because the guy was out of town), I decided that night to take the available one before it was too late. Sure it was an old building (with Georgian architecture!) with a dog, but it felt right. Since I knew I’d be leaving town for the holidays in a week and a half and since a replacement had already been found for me in Booterstown (though not without a clear offer to store my things while I was away if I hadn’t found a new place), I wanted to have everything settled—”to get sorted”, as the Irish say. So I took the place.
I moved in on Thursday, during a cold snap. My room turned out to be cold. Very cold. So is the rest of the house, though my room is the coldest in the place. For the next few nights, I tried adding layers, but I was still cold on the third night. It also turned out the mattress wasn’t that great. And being right next to the toilet and above the kitchen in an old house with little sound insulation, I could hear most everything that went on. I was also reminded how I dislike animal hair on my clothes. (This I especially should have realized before deciding to move in.) Though I have never been particularly drawn to historic buildings the way some people are, I thought I would give it a try since others seem to like them so much.
I came to realize over these three days that I wasn’t going to develop a strong relationship with my housemates. Nobody spent time in the common areas, and the quiet guy had basically nothing to say at all. It took the three of us a while to find time to talk about shared responsibilities and all that, and I realized that these were the sort of people who, even after living in the house for a few months, had never managed to buy a bathmat or second kitchen towel. Hmm.
So I decided Sunday morning that I needed to move again. The cold and the sound insulation were the main reasons, but the many other contributing factors didn’t help. Since people renting a room in Ireland almost never have a lease and since so far I had only paid a security deposit to the lead tenant (Clarissa) and not yet the first month’s rent (because I moved in early, during a month that had already been paid), I wasn’t “in too deep” and could get out with a major financial loss. Clarissa understood and agreed that if she found someone in the near future, she could give me back a portion of the deposit.
I began by calling the guy whose place I wasn’t able to see the previous weekend. He was available that evening. I scoured ads again anyway, so as not to lose any time, and made one other call. Tthe place was already taken. I decided to stick with the one place for that evening. I had a hunch about it since the guy had written to me based on my “housing wanted” ad, so he knew from the start that I would be here only six months and that I was clean and tidy and liked quiet.
So I saw it last night. It’s closer to work and to the places that I now understand to be the best for food. Farther from the yuppy area that I was infatuated with, but I was already getting over that infatuation anyway. It’s less expensive, in a newer building, and warmer inside. (Not exactly toasty, but warm by Irish standards.) Felt much homier too. Currently inhabited by a bice guy who seemed to keep a tidy place. He owns the flat, so he actually has things like plenty of kitchen towels. No table to eat at and no fold-out sofa for guests, but otherwise okay. (No table, you say? He said he used to have a small one in the common room, but he’s hardly here anyway and ended up watching the TV while eating anyway, so he just got rid of it.)
So I told him that I wanted to move in … that night. I explained my situation, which he understood, and he urged me to think about it overnight. I realized that there was risk I was making another hasty decision, but I felt I really needed to take it and just get it over with. (I’m leaving town on Thursday, after all!) So I went home, packed my stuff quickly, gave Clarissa back my key, and got a cab to my new place.
So now I’m living with Brian, an Irish guy from County Limerick who’s been in Dublin a few years, in an apartment development that was the first in Dublin, built in the ’60s when “apartment living” was new and trendy on the grounds of an old estate quite close to the center of the city. Solid construction. I slept well last night.
For those contemplating a visit, there are two adjacent hotels, the Burlington and Mespil, plus a hostel just down the street with quite reasonable rates!
I always thought that I was especially warm-blooded and that I have a low tolerance for heat, but I now realize I also don’t feel well if I’m cold. It’s just that I had never spent any significant amount of time in a place in the winter that wasn’t extremely well-heated until about a year ago (in Ann Arbor), when I started to question my preference for the cold. So basically it turns out I’m incapable of regulating my body temperature. I thought people like me are well-suited to oceanic climates like northwest Europe and the Pacific Northwest, but this presumes you live and work somewhere with central heating so that the temperature is consistent across rooms and across times of the day. Even quite new places in Ireland don’t seem to have this—mostly, I suspect, because of the high cost of energy—so I’m kind of out of luck here.
I relayed my adventures this morning to the one person left in the office at this time of the year, Don (a fellow Marylander!). He told me about how he too was freezing this weekend, having retreated to one room in his house and having covered the bathroom floor in towels because it’s so cold. He also told me that he’s seen places where the heat is coin-operated (like a shower at a campsite or something!). That way you really know what you’re paying for that extra heating!
Well, I’m mostly settled into my new place now. The last two nights have been chilly—objectively speaking, as well as for me—but I hope that I have now gathered a sufficient amount of bedding. Turns out that not only is the hot water on a timer but the radiators as well. And there’s no thermostat, so just because it’s especially cold right now doesn’t mean the heater works any harder. My housemates say we’ll adjust it if I find my room perpetually too cold. So far, I would say I do. While I understand that keeping buildings cool reduces heating costs and keeps you from having to unbundle as soon as you come indoors, it has surprise benefits, like letting you store eggs unrefrigerated. I can’t recall seeing a store in Ireland that actually keeps eggs in the refrigerated section. After all, it’s not as if it ever gets all that warm in the summer that you would need to!
Turns out my housemate Brian is actually Irish, but he studied astronomy in Edinburgh. So he doesn’t know Henry Thompson, my extremely tenuous connection to Edinburgh with whom I was at the same conference … once … six years ago.
Bullying and harassment training (you think I make this stuff up!) at the Academy was much like you’d expect from such an event in the US, except that an example basis for inappropriate harassment was given as “Membership in the community of Irish Travellers“. Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one back home.
Friday was the Christmas lunch at the Academy (not to be confused with the previous Friday’s “Christmas drinks party”). Lots of food and singing of Christmas carols. Did you know the Irish sing “Away in a Manger” to a different melody? From what I’ve pieced together from Wikipedia, apparently Americans use the Mueller melody and others the Clark melody.
I realize no one will ever come visit if I don’t start putting up some photos. I’ve taken a few but need to take more and give some context. I’ve been busy shopping for household items and groceries.
The hunt for a place to live is over. I’ve decided on sharing a Georgian townhouse on a quiet cul-de-sac in a prime location with two grad students (“postgraduates” here) at Trinity College Dublin. One is an M.Phil. student in Irish writing (formerly called “Anglo-Irish literature”) and the other is a Ph.D. student in computer science. Clarissa, studying literature, is from the US and brought her dog with her as well. He’s a bit old, so he mostly sleeps and rarely barks. The other, Brian, is quite reserved. Scottish, I think, but I didn’t get much out of him. Said he did some Semantic Web stuff and worked with “Dublin Core and all that crap.” Perhaps if I drop the name of a certain markup languages specialist in Edinburgh he’ll warm up to me.
The house has a working fireplace (for those chilly nights in Dublin) and a sleep sofa for visitors. (I’m told that the mattress is best used on the floor, though.) As is standard in Ireland, the hot water heater is on a timer so you have hot water for your morning shower. (No guarantee for the middle of the afternoon.) No television but a daily subscription to The Guardian and the corresponding Sunday subscription to The Observer. There was a large amount of fresh kale on the counter when I visited, and Clarissa gave tips on the good farmer’s markets. I think I’ll do just fine there. I move in on Thursday!
I stole the three photos from the housing ad:
My dear friend Kristen was in town on business Thursday, so she found her way to my office from her hotel. I showed her around town, including Academy House, the Grand Canal Dock, and the newly opened Samuel Beckett Bridge. We also had a very nice dinner at Eden Restaurant.
When I was inducted into the Academy during my last trip to Dublin (in August), I was told that while I would miss the Halloween party, I would be fortunate enough to be back in time for the annual Christmas party. When the invitation came around by email, it was called the “Christmas drinks party”, to be held at Toner’s, one of the oldest pubs in Dublin. The Social Committee put together a nice event last night, complete with a trivia contest and prizes. While I was of no help to my team in answering questions about the Academy, identifying baby photos, or answering questions about sports (“sport” here), I was the only person on my team know the names of all eight reindeer. I even won a door prize (a bottle of wine).
There will also be a Christmas lunch next week, which includes singing Christmas carols. Since I’m still living in Booterstown not in a good position to prepare something to bring, I’ll pass on this.
Speaking of Booterstown, I’m still engaged in an epic hunt for the perfect apartment to share with the perfect roommates. The man with impossibly high standards for everything and everyone can’t find the perfect place to live … imagine that! I’ve seen all sorts of places, even an incredible penthouse. They and all the other nice places close to the center of the city don’t need someone who’s leaving in six months. That or I just give off a vibe of being a difficult roommate. Hard to know.
Whenever I was asked about my impressions of Ireland after visiting in late summer, I invariably said that the food was bad and it was cold and rainy. While both are true, I need to qualify those statements.
First of all, I am slowly discovering the better places to get lunch when you run out from the office besides the usual “sandwich with two fillings” and soup. Salad bars generally are lacking in actual vegetables, but Unicorn Restaurant has a “food emporium” with a take-away (“carry-out”) section. It came recommended in August, but all I saw then were prepackaged salads, which weren’t all that great. However, this week I discovered that you can have them make a salad for you from their refrigerated display case. It’s not raw vegetables like you expect in salads bars back home, but rather a nice selection of marinated or otherwise prepared salads, which all go nicely on a bed of greens.
However, I’ve given up on one nearby Indian place. Tastes too much like Irish food with a tad bit of curry added. I mean, celery does not belong in your curry. But I’m told there are better Indian places in town.
As for the weather, I generally rather like chilly weather, but the change from Ann Arbor was more drastic than I expected in August. I thought the time I was here was cooler than normal, but I said so today to a girl I met while looking at an apartment, and she said August and September here were beautiful and that 15° Celsius (59° Fahrenheit) is just about normal for that time of the year! On the other hand, in the winter it rarely drops below freezing, so that has its advantages as well.
I’ve had many more sincere expressions of interest in visiting than I did when I was in Russia five years ago. Unfortunately, I also have a fuller schedule than then. Still, once I move closer to the center of Dublin, I hope to be able to accommodate many visitors. My calendar (“diary”, as they call it here) is filling up fast with work commitments, so reserve your spot today!
As most of you know, I live in a world of words and orthography, not pictures and design. I have some feelings on typography but not strong ones. I have been known to inhabit rooms with empty walls. Let’s not let this blog reflect my philistine sensibilities.
I’m looking for someone to create a banner image for me, perhaps out of photos I took this summer. I always welcome suggestions on a WordPress theme for the blog. What do you get out of it? The fame and glory of having your keen aesthetic sense shared with the readers of this blog.