It was Sunday when I started this post, and I've spent the day shopping and preparing for tonight's gala. And in Blogland, it's still Wednesday. Worse than jet lag.
Wednesday was the day in Dún Laoghaire; I posted that picture of the Royal Marine Hotel earlier. Chris and Jamie came down with me on the train, and we had just the sort of outside/relaxing day we needed. I do love the hurlyburly of the city, with the crowded streets and stores and restaurants, and careening down the sidewalk. I'm like that in NYC, too. But it's good for the soul (I must frequently be reminded) to remove yourself from these things to a place a little more natural.
Down at the coast, you have the taste of the sea on your lips and the sound of a foghorn as the mist rolls in. The day was spitty/rainy; never quite pouring, but quite moist. We went down to the tourist office, where the gate was mostly lowered, but we could see the rack of brochures, and discussed whether it would be okay to reach under and grab some; at which point the staffer said: oh, let me limbo under the gate! She was supposed to be on lunch, but couldn't resist the opportunity to pass on info about the town. We saw the brochures for the festival on her rack (ubiquitous, yay!) and mentioned we were involved in it. She asked if we knew Elizabeth Whitney, whom she'd heard on the radio the night before. We could (truthfully) say we DO know her, and agreed that she's brilliant.The staff lady went on about how playwrights are literary geniuses; Chris and I didn't disagree. She gave us a map of the town, and various suggestions for places to eat, and things to see, and told us to head out to the martello tower where James Joyce conceived the idea for Ulysses, and which is now a museum and monument.
So we wandered slowly through the town, enjoying the Georgian, Victorian, and Edwardian architecture, stopping at a small cafe that overlooked the main street, and into the People's Park, rife with fountains and gazebos, and patches of flowers well in bloom. We went down by the sea, which crashes up against the Marine walk, and peered down the stairs that went down even further down right to the sea. Chris demonstrated the hazards of not being careful when descending the steps to the sea.Even though it was a damp, overcast day, we passed a beach where dozens of people were happily jumping off rocks, and leaping through the waves. Little kids! Some still in their school uniforms! And one local headed up from the beach, clad only in trunks and we marvelled that they were bathing in the sea in this weather, and he said: oh, you get used to it.
And then Jamie and Chris headed back into Central Dublin, and I grabbed a nap, and caught the train back a bit later, making sure I knew when the LAST train headed back (11:30) because I figured it would be at least a 50 euro ride back in a taxi, if I missed the train.Chris and I had arranged to meet at the New Theatre, where we were going to see if we could get into Picture of Dorian Gray, an experimental theatre piece being done by an exceedingly young group from Indiana. I mean, undergraduates! Oh the things these teenagers get into these days. With their Oscar Wilde and the post-modern deconstruction of classic novels interspersed with the pop culture references and movement and meta and the treating of a classic as a living work. Those wacky kids! Unfortunately, we couldn't get in (it seemed like entire high school/college classes were pouring in), so we decided to head up to the Outhouse (the Dublin LGBT community center) for the 9:30 show of Elizabeth's Wonder Woman: the Musical. We still had time before the show, so we stepped into a pub and had a whiskey. Chris went up to order it, and they said "ice?" and I said GOD, NO! and they nodded in approval. The whiskey went down well, and the show even better.
Elizabeth's show was also close to sold out, and the audience embraced it instantly. I'd seen it in a slightly earlier incarnation when TOSOS presented it at the Duplex, and it's continued to grow and become even stronger. The Irish got the conceit of the show instantly: Diana Prince, aka Wonder Woman, is on her "Magic Lasso Comeback tour" and doing a lounge act which recounts the REAL story of her career. We laughed and sang along, and were under her spell...even without magic lasso. The festival's artistic director, Brian Merriman was at the show, and marveled how the show had appeal to both gays and lesbians, as well as people who just love pop culture and can appreciate commentary on it. Elizabeth played to excellent houses all week, and ended up with a nomination for the Eva Gore Booth (Best Actress) award at the gala. And I made the last train, not to Clarkesville, but to Dun Laoghrie.
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