monument of light

So having lucked out on Dave having Monday off for a random holiday (what makes it random? I call any holiday we don’t celebrate in the states random – in this case it was a “Bank Holiday” whatever that means) I was on my own for Tuesday.

Armed with my guidebook and a camera to document how I got from Dave’s place into town (I get lost easily) I headed to Trinity College to look at the Book of Kells.

The line was long and it was pissing down rain and I was starting to wonder if this was going to be a constant theme for me when it came to tourist attractions in Europe. Finally I got in to see the book of Kells after a very long and elaborate introduction about the making of the book, the meaning of the book, the authors of the book, the ink of the book, etc.

In the end it was a really old book (dates back to the 800AD) behind glass that I couldn’t read because it’s written in Latin. I stood there for a while though pretending to admire it because that’s what other people were doing and if anything I did stand in line in the rain to look at this thing and by golly I was going to look at it right.

Next it was on to Christ Church Cathedral:

Then St. Patrick’s Cathedral:

By this time I was getting really cold and bored because I was by myself and my guidebook didn’t have much else in it besides museums and galleries which I really wasn’t in the mood for. And then I saw something in my guidebook called the Monument of Light which is on the touristy O’Connell Street. I decided it could be interesting so I headed over to check it out.

So I’m walking down O’Connell Street. Walking, walking and on the lookout for the Monument of Light and I don’t see much outside of cheesy souvenir shops and fast food restaurants when I pass what can only be described as a giant rod in the middle of the street.

No. Could that be it? I looked at my map. Yup. That’s it. I walked all that way to look at a giant pole sticking out of the ground.

Dejected and craving the comfort of greasy food I got a hamburger from Supermac’s and headed back to Dave’s where I curled up in a blanket and watched Irish soap operas with griping plot lines like guy thinks fiancée is cheated on him in Australia but turns out she wasn’t cheating on him she was actually *drum roll please* a beauty queen in Australia! She actually took out a tiara and put it on her head when she told him to, I don’t know, make her story seem more credible?

Sure, not great but it beats a giant rod.