Dublin — the Celtic capital

Parts of the following guide were written for Tourism Ireland

Dublin of the old statues, of elegant Georgian boulevards, of the vibrant clubs of Temple Bar.

The invader, the trader, the traveller, the settler, the rebel and the writer have all added colour and culture to this old place.

Few cities have produced so many heavy hitters in the literary field— Swift, Joyce, Shaw, Wilde, O'Casey, Beckett, Goldsmith. Plus the greatest horror-writer of them all, Bram Stoker.

Their ghosts lurk in every corner of the city.

The world premiere of Handel’s Messiah was staged in Dublin,  in 1742 in Neale's Great Musick Hall, Fishamble Street. An unlikely site for the unveiling of one of western music’s big set pieces, you may think. But back then Dublin was an intensely musical city – indeed many aver that the depth of Irish traditional music owes as much to this period of classical infusion as it does to Celtic influence.

Everything from rock to baroque is still available in the capital. But of course what Dublin is famous for – aside from U2, Thin Lizzy, Sinead O’Connor and Bob Geldof – is traditional music. Concerts, workshops, festivals, fleadhs, and not forgetting endless pub sessions, are devoted to one of the finest expressions of folk culture in Europe.

Dublin can still proudly boast that it is the only capital in the world under the sole control of the Celts. Despite its increasingly cosmopolitan nature, the city remains indisputably Irish.

The River Liffey divides the city, sort of like a Mason-Dixon line, into posh south Dublin, where there are nice plaques commemorating events like Bloomsday, and the more plebian north where plaques - made of cardboard - mainly advertise car boot sales.

Dublin’s attractions lying to the south of the river include the elegant Georgian squares, vibrant Temple Bar, Trinity College, Grafton Street, St Stephen’s Green and most of the museums, including the exemplary National Museum of Ireland.

North Dublin has Croke Park, the third largest sporting stadium in Europe. It boasts an excellent museum of all matters GAA, the body which oversees Ireland’s vernacular sports — hurling, Gaelic, football, camogie and handball.

The city teems with historically significant buildings, from the elegant Georgian houses of Merrion Square to the magnificence of Trinity College — wherein lies The Book of Kells. This priceless illuminated manuscript (don’t ask them to switch it on — they’ve heard that one) is among the top half dozen most valuable books in the world.

The tome was probably made in the island of Iona off the west coast of Scotland, and at some point (probably with the Vikings at their heels) monks took it to Kells in County Meath.

It was stolen in 1006 from the library of Kells Monastery. Eventually recovered some months later, it was found to have sixty pages missing, pages that have never been recovered.

(Don’t say: “Crikey. That must be clocking up some library fine”— they’ve heard that one too.)

Cathedrals and suchlike

Ireland’s oldest cathedral, Christ Church, was founded sometime after 1028 by King Sitric Silkbeard, the Hiberno-Norse king of Dublin. It was a Viking wooden affair, doubtless much smirked over by the Normans when they came along a century or so later.

A complete rebuilding was commissioned in 1172 by Norman overlord Strongbow, aided by Archbishop Laurence O’Toole, Dublin’s patron saint — both of whose remains lie in the Cathedral.

Christ Church is also the site of one of the most optimistic pieces of political skulduggery in the history of Anglo-Irish relations. In 1487, Thomas Fitzgerald, the Earl of Kildare attempted to pass off a ten-year-old boy, Lambert Simnel, as the heir to the English throne.

A priest, Father Richard Simon, tutoring Lambert, noticed a striking resemblance to the supposedly murdered sons of Edward IV. Simnel was chosen as a figurehead for a rebellion already being planned by the Yorkists. Simnel was duly crowned by Fitzgerald King of England in Christ Church.

Henry VII was made aware of the plot, the Earl of Kildare was defeated in battle, although surviving it. Poor Lambert somewhat surprisingly also avoided the executioner’s axe, but was sentenced to a life working in the sculleries of the royal palaces.

A short stroll from Christ Church is St Patrick's Cathedral. The patron saint baptised converts to Christianity in the grounds of the cathedral with water from a local well. Since then (5th century) a church has stood on the grounds.

The Normans built a substantial edifice in the 12th century, the core of today’s cathedral. Highlights include the tomb of Jonathan Swift, if a tombstone can ever be regarded as a highlight. No matter, he was dean here in the 18th century, and has a suitably impressive epitaph:

Here is laid the body of Jonathan Swift, Doctor of Divinity, 
Dean of this cathedral Church, / Where fierce indignation can no longer
Rend his heart / Go, traveller, and imitate if you can
This earnest and dedicated Champion of Liberty

Nearby Swift's tomb is a wooden door through which the Earl of Ormond and the Earl of Kildare shook hands ending a feud in 1492 – said to be the origin of the phrase 'chancing your arm'.

Stout work at the Storehouse

No trip to Dublin would be complete without a visit to the Guinness Storehouse at St James’s Gate. Dubs initially turned their noses up at the concoction when it first came on the market in the mid 18th century — because of Arthur Guinness’s opposition to the United Irishmen (politics are never far away hereabouts).

However the attractions of the new drink soon overcame political considerations. Up the rebels, and down the hatch.

You can see where Sir Arthur’s brewing process began in the former fermentation plant, helpfully remodelled in the shape of a giant pint glass.

The secrets of stout, how roast barley gives Guinness its deep ruby colour, and how a perfect pint is pulled are gone into in some detail.

The tour ends in the Gravity Bar – a drinking establishment with a 360 degree panoramic view across the city, and the perfect place to contemplate Ireland’s capital, the meaning of life, whether this is the best day you've ever had, and so on.

The essential character of Dublin, which has produced the likes of James Joyce, Edmund Burke, Dr Barnardo, Dracula, Francis Bacon, the Duke of Wellington and U2, has changed little since Arthur Guinness’s day. It is in equal measure thoughtful and frivolous, decadent and pious, creative and convivial — undoubtedly one of the great cities of the world.

Dublin's notable sites. . .

Museums

All this nonsense about “if you only visit one museum a year make it the Steam Sewing Machine museum in Ballyslapmaguttery” or wherever. If you only visit one museum a year, then visit a few more. Your mind will be expanded beyond measure.

FAIR ENOUGH, if you REALLY only visit one museum a year, the National Museum of Ireland on Kildare Street has exhibits on everything from ancient Egyptian culture to Irish independence.

Nearby The Municipal Gallery of Modern Art, on Parnell Square, has some nifty 20th-century Irish installation work on the ground floor hard by a small collection of French impressionists.

Hugh Lane Gallery

Hugh Lane Gallery was the world's first contemporary art gallery.

Don't miss the re-created, chaotically untidy studio of Dublin-born Francis Bacon. You can even see the brushes that painted those multi-million pound pictures.

You can also reflect on the story of his life. He was great friends with Lucian Freud — both were outsiders in London: Bacon born in Lower Baggot Street, Dublin; Freud, a Jew, born in Berlin. Both retained noticeable accents; both were compulsive gamblers.

They were extravagant spenders who, when flush, dispersed thick wads of cash.

On occasion Bacon would pull out a duvet-thick pack of £50 notes and casually declare to his friend Freud, “I’ve got rather a lot of these, Lucian; I thought you might like some.”

For a long time Freud was financially dependent on Bacon’s generous subsidies. When Bacon came into money after signing an art deal he agreed to settle Freud’s gambling debts, amounting to a staggering £2.7million.

After Freud married the wealthy heiress Caroline Blackwood, he reciprocated by using her money to finance Bacon’s trip to the fleshpots of Tangier.

A life-affirming story.

Chester Beatty Library

Ireland’s first honorary citizen, Chester Beatty insisted on “quality, quality - always the quality.” It’s a formula which has guaranteed that his library has one of the most significant collections in Europe. Dazzling collections of books, manuscripts, prints and objets d’art from round the world are available for viewing – for free. It costs time and money to see the Book of Kells in Trinity, but the CBL’s collection of illuminated sacred manuscripts are right up there – with no queue.

O'Connell Street

Its gracious proportions and the historical General Post Office more than make up for the preponderance of fast food outlets along Dublin's main thoroughfare. One of the architectural gems of Dublin, this historic landmark was where Padraig Pearse read out the Proclamation in 1916 which began the Easter Rising. At the other end of O’Connell Street is Ireland's Garden of Remembrance dedicated to "those who gave their lives in the cause of Irish freedom”.

Not everyone gave their lives willingly in that noble pursuit. Mrs Murphy, who went into the GPO to buy a stamp, was caught in the crossfire and killed by a bullet in the stomach. She hadn't gone into the post office to free Ireland; she gone in to post a letter. 

City of Love

"Some who have heard him, say that he speaks with a Dublin accent."

That was James Joyce referring to the devil - and he could be right. But there are plenty of people in Dublin who'd keep the devil in his place, not least the battery of saints buried there. Arguably, the 2nd most popular saint of all, St Valentine (running St Nicholas a close second), takes his eternal rest in the Carmelite church on Aungier Street. You can go along and pay your respects to the patron saint of chocolates and roses, even if he wasn't Irish — it's doubtful if Guinness ever passed his lips. However, his remains were brought to Dublin in 1835 by one Father John Spratt, donated to him by a grateful Pope.

Glasnevin Cemetery

A wander through Glasnevin is a whistle-stop tour of Ireland’s political and cultural history: O’Connell, De Valera, Luke Kelly, as well as cardinals, bishops and priests take their eternal rest here. Honorary Dubliner Gerald Manley Hopkins is also buried here.

But despite the presence of poets, priests and singers, the most visited grave is, by a long chalk, that of Michael Collins. His simple Celtic cross is covered in bunches of flowers, It’s mostly women who leave the flowers; some even visit every week, and leave notes, even Valentine cards. This has been going on even before the film Michael Collins came out, but of course it added to the allure.  Since then the office at Glasnevin has had people asking: "Where is Julia Roberts buried?" - meaning Kitty Kiernan. Collins's fiancée died in 1945 and is buried near his grave.

Before you leave Glasnevin, pay your respects to 11-year-old Michael Casey of Francis Street, who died of consumption on February 22nd, 1832. He became the very first person of the 1,200,000 — of a great many denominations and nationalities — to be buried in Glasnevin.

Dublin's Pubs

The old nicotine stains are wearing off but the spiritual atmosphere, as opposed to the actual one, remains as potent as ever. It’s just that today, your lungs don't wheeze like an old melodeon at the end of a night’s revelry in one of Dublin’s pubs.

They come in many shapes and sizes, from raucous late-night clubs in Temple Bar to cosy local establishments with aged wooden panelling, a sage barman in a suit and tie, and tables stacked with pints of Guinness.

Gastropub, sports bars, whiskey dens — and traditional meeting places. One of the latter is Doheny & Nesbitt, on Lower Baggot Street. This, one of Dublin’s great institutions comes complete with Victorian snugs and mirrors, and creaking with carved timber floors.

Across the road is O’Donoghue’s, the epicentre of Irish folk music for the last fifty years. The pub was the home ground of the Dubliners, and has played host ever since to everyone from Christy Moore to Bruce Springsteen. Today, sessions continue unabated.

Just a few of Dublin’s finest watering holes. . .

The Dawson Lounge

25 Dawson Street, Dublin 2

The smallest bar in Dublin, although there’s plenty of nooks and crannies to hide in should the enormous rock stars who frequent the place happen by. Whoever is there, you’ll soon be accepted into the company. You can sit back, pint in hand, and along with the locals moan about how different it was before it all changed.

Madigan’s

Earl Street North, Dublin 1

A superb Victorian pub that conjures up images of Dublin in ‘the rare oul’ times’. They say you should always pick a new perfume or aftershave when you’re going on holiday – forever after that smell will remind you of good times spent. No need for that here – the tang of stout, old wood and ale will never let you forget this singular pubbing experience.

O’Neill’s

2 Suffolk St, Dublin 2

A rambling old establishment with a honeycomb of tiny snugs. Even if similarities with your house or flat are virtually nil, you’ll feel right at home within minutes of arriving here.

Palace Bar

21 Fleet Street, Dublin 2

Without doubt one of the great bars of the world, this is a gem of Victorian splendour. The Guinness, which hasn't had to travel far, is acclaimed, and the sandwiches are Desperate Dan style door-steps. Still a vital part of Dublin everyday life, the clientele is a good mix of locals, visitors, workers and hipsters all quenching their thirst. Traditional sessions tear away at full throttle most evenings of the week.

Ryan’s

28 Parkgate, Dublin 8

Unlike most other pubs in Dublin frequented by a battalion of writers, Ryan's in Parkgate is notable in that Ludwig von Wittgenstein was a local. The philosopher regularly sat in the pub, doubtless thinking up the last line of his book, “Whereof one cannot speak, thereof there must be silence.” Well, we’ll all drink to that.

President Clinton, Julia Roberts and footballer Niall Quinn have all followed in Wittgenstein’s footsteps and downed a pint here (though not together).

The Cellar Bar

Upper Merrion Street, Dublin 2

Originally the scullery belonging to the house of that estimable Dubliner the Duke of Wellington, the cellar is a cosy subterranean warren of private alcoves. Expensive mind you, reflected in the clientele – politicos, legal types and the financially carefree. Still, what’s the point of ordering expensive fizz if there’s nobody there to see you do it. But the food is top notch, and the range of beers enough to satisfy the most exacting clientele, duke or otherwise.

Bull and Castle

5-7 Lord Edward Street, Christ Church, Dublin 2

One of the first pubs in the world to sell draught Guinness, and now they've really got the hang of it.

Today the beer menu includes a long list of excellent Czech and German lagers, English ales, Belgian beers, Dutch wheat beers and much more from the world of hops and yeast. A good Irish whiskey menu services the electric soup connoisseurs.

Messers Maguires

1 & 2 Burgh Quay, Dublin 2

A pub which brews its own beer, this creaking old hostelry (more than 200 years old) is spread over three levels, with much of the interior hardly changed since George III was King, not just of Britain but this part of Ireland too. But the people in here, quaffing beer made next door, didn’t care.

* NB quaffing is the same as drinking; you just spill more.

Top Dublin digs

“This then is the chief city of the aliens. The hotel to which I had been directed is a respectable old edifice, much frequented by families from the country, and where the solitary traveller may likewise find society. For he may use the Shelburne [sic] as an hotel or a boarding house, in which case he is comfortably accommodated, and magically conducted by clerks and other officers.”

That was William Makepeace Thackeray waxing lyrical about the Shelbourne Hotel in his Irish Sketchbook. The man who wrote Barry Lyndon and Vanity Fair would be delighted that the comfortable old edifice is more opulent that ever. For B&B you can upgrade all the way to the Princess Grace suite, yours for €1800 a night. Mind you, the English writer wasn't paying top dollar: “A guest can be comfortably accommodated at the very moderate daily charge of six-and-eightpence. A perpetual luncheon is thereafter spread, a plentiful dinner and tay and coffee and cakes to satisfy the largest appetite,” he wrote.