Yesterday we woke in Dublin in our gorgeous hotel room. Stef commented wondering when our hotel stopped serving breakfast. I went and checked. We had ten minutes. You could say it was a bit of a lazy morning. But we had a splendid breakfast to begin our day. Then we walked Dublin's streets for a bit.
Florian had recommended we go to the Leprechaun Museum. To be honest, I was not expecting much. But it completely destroyed my expectations. If you are ever in Dublin, you must go here. It is a spectacular experience. It is a guided tour. The lady began the tour telling us about Ireland's stories are an important part of their traditions. She gave us some background on leprechauns. She explained how they went from a nice friendly creature in normal clothes to a green little monster.
After her introduction, the tour went into the Giant's Room. They had a room created as if we were leprechauns in a humans room. Highly entertaining to say the least.
The next stop was a room with a quick video about the legend of leprechauns. It was projected downward onto a 3-D map of Ireland. It was only a couple minutes to catch us up on the "history." It started with, "Our story is true mixed with legend." And probably, so was the whole tour.
We walked through the next door into a darkened room. It sounded as though rain was heavily falling on the roof. Our tour leader explained that the room was set up to look like an old cottage. The reason it was is because in the past stories were told by a storyteller who would travel around Ireland. People from certain areas would gather in one house to hear the stories. It was most likely dark because no one would waste precious winter daylight hours. The rain was most likely a given. The storyteller would not have a book or props. He would have his words. Sparking the imagination of his listeners was his greatest trick. She explained Irish stories are fun, but often dark. That's what made leprechauns so loved. They brought a lighter mood to the story. But these stories would mean his listeners then would walk, in the dark, back home with their imaginations flaring. Coming from a girl who lives in the woods, imagination can make a dark walk through the trees seem terrible.
As everyone knows, leprechauns keep their gold at the end of rainbows. The tour leader explained how wise that was in Ireland. There is never a shortage of rainbows. To get to the museum's pot of gold, we had to go through the "rainbow." They had hung strings from the ceiling in the appropriate ROYGBIF order. You walked through the rainbow that engulfed you. I did my best to take pictures, but you can imagine how difficult that was to complete. At the end, sure enough, was a pot of gold!
The last room was set up as a well in the evening, with the moon shining on it. There were stumps around the well. We all sat and enjoyed the woman tell us stories of ancient fairies, magic, and legends. She asked if anyone was born in Ireland. One young lady raised her hand. After a brief exchange about where the young lady was from, the leader excitedly said, "There are a lot of Fairy Forests there! Do you ever go in?" The young lady immediately responded, "Of course not. They are to scary." I was expecting some sarcasm but found none. I later asked Florian if they really believe in this stuff. He said they take Folklore very seriously.
We had to enter back into the "human world." Through a tunnel, we went back outside where they had spots to take pictures, a gift shop, and a spot to leave remarks on the museum.
We hopped into the car for a quick drive out of the city. We were headed to a cemetery that dates back to the 6th century. It was unbelievable. Some tomb stones just had names and dates, while some had entire stories. But what really got me was how entire families were buried together. One plot had 8 people there. I watched the sunset on the hills behind the tombs. I thought about how life can be. You put names on a tomb stone to make it forever remembered who you are and where you are. Yet in the end you are just another stone in a graveyard. I made this comment to Florian. He said, "Yeah, but that's how life can be viewed now. Or you can think of how, as you when you're alive, the people who love you know where you are, who you are, and that you are much more than just another face or stone." So I walked through the cemetery again. This time I looked at the flowers, the loving poems, the old woman standing in the bitter cold to visit someone, and saw a different story. And for some reason one of my favorite verses of poetry ran through my mind:
"Oh stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start.
You shall love your crooked neighbor
With your crooked heart."
It may appear we are crooked and disparing. It may appear we are just another face. But loving our crooked neighbor, with our crooked heart, can open a door to many things including moments turning to memories.
The evening ended with Thai food for dinner and banana splits from a cafe. I'd like to officially say God bless my cousins for letting me be an emotional mess yesterday and quickly getting me ice cream. They were beyond patient and loving. Amazing.
As I write, we are driving to Giant's Causeway. We stopped at a cemetery this morning from the 5th century. The snow glistened in the sun. It made for some good pictures and even better end for this post today.
Wonderful writing and stories as usual Chica! Xoxo
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