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Posts Tagged ‘dublin’

I don’t have much to say about the accompanying pictures except anyone I’ve taken into DiFontaines on Parliament Street (and there have been quite a few, I’m pretty much in love with the place) has left there feeling like they’ve just eaten the best pizza in the city. And they’d be right in feeling so.

The connection with Fun Lovin' Criminals still remains obviously!

Once found attached to the legendary (I’m not sure whether legendary good way or legendary bad way,) Eamonn Doran’s, it was subject to many drunken visits post now sadly defunct “CHTM’s Crew Friday Nights.” Anyways, €4 for any slice of Pizza in the awesome new spot, go for the sausage/ pepperoni/ ham, it will leave you salivating at the thought of more!

Where I go for my post Casa Rebelde / Brogan's eats!

And yes, it is better than Ray’s Pizza.

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At home to UCD last Thursday night and I get a phone call half an hour before kick off from a good mate of mine, a through and through Rovers man (I only hold it against him on match days.) I thought there was something wrong, knowing he should be on his way to the Bray game but luckily, no, he just wanted to tell me about the below; spotted on the old Canada Life building on Stephen’s Green, a brilliant piece… Props to the Dunster lad!

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This would actually look amazing... (Image copyleft hXci)

All I really know about Zeppelins is that they have a propensity to explode spectacularly and that there was one in an Indiana Jones film but have to admit, the thoughts of getting one out to a game in UCD would make a normally horrible evening a little more bearable. Plus, “Night Zeppelin” sounds way cooler than “Night Bus.” If only…

Better than it lying idle! (Image copyleft hXci)

Anyways, to whoever put the planning application up, I salute you. You brightened up my evening!

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It really seemed to be one of those catchphrases in the run up to the visit. The visit would lead to euro notes growing on trees and coins spewing out tourists arses. Well, having had an English tourist sleeping on my couch for the last few days, I can tell you that the QEII visit was far from “great for tourism.” While he got some cracking shots of Dublin City’s landmarks, most were marred with lines of luminous jackets in front. He got little sleep due to the incessant buzz of the Garda helicopter hovering low across the city, awoken early by Garda spotters / snipers taking postion on the roof above our living room window, and found the welcoming atmosphere of Dublin City somewhat dampened by the presence of 8, 000 Gardai, pockets brimming with overtime cash.

I could bore you with stories of how it took me two hours to get from one side of O’Connell Street to the other, or of getting stopped and searched twice within the space of a minute, or of my flatmate being refused entry to our street, but as they say, a picture paints a thousand words. Cheers to, again, English tourist Alex S for all the snaps.

The view from the window.

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Still without my camera, Canon have stolen it from me and holding it for a ransom I just can’t afford right now. So the camera on the phone it is, I’ve started taking pictures, and a simple thing like not actually having a camera at the moment isn’t going to stop me.

Good yokes are back in town

These Philo posters have been appearing all over town recently, someone said they had something to do with Whelans? Either way, the above gave me and Donal a laugh after our recent Crackbird feast.

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What is it with me and cameras? I just have no luck with them; this is my fourth camera to give up on me in around eight years. I still hold out hope, I will get my little G9 fixed, I’ve only started to get used to it and have only started taking pictures I’m proud of. This rant I hear you ask, what is it about? Well, its a precursor and an apology for the quality of the below pictures, but I couldn’t help but take them and share them.

Hungover cycles often provide great inspiration, and Sunday’s was no different, and rewarding also, having come across the below piece down the (Luas) tracks. Its probably been around a while, but this is the first time I’ve ventured down this far since before the Chrimbo.

Who listens? (1)

Who Listens? (2)

Back in the day, you were born with
original sin, now its original debt.
Every man, woman and child in this
country are footin’ the bill for a
load of empty buildings. If it was
France, there’d be bleedin’ murder.

Who Listens? (3)

Where’s my Nama? You know what I
mean? I worked on the sites round
here and when I got laid off I
still had to pay me mortgage every
month. But we’re bailing these boys
(out I?) don’t get it.

Who Listens? (4)

The middle to the end of the
sixties saw the dyin’ end of the
docks. It just went slowly down.
If any of the old Dockers came
back today and looked down from
Butt Bridge, they’d call you a liar,
they’d go “that’s not where I worked.”

Who Listens? (5)

There’s something Flann O’Brien-esque about the writing style, god knows what the man would have said if he saw the state of the country now. Either way, its a good summation of what has happened the old docklands; there is or, was a social history there that has been all but completely wiped out in order to pave way for the IFSC, the area that most said at the time  ” is a grand representation of the Celtic Tiger, sure isn’t it great the money we have now for all these shiny buildings.” Its a shocking pity that most of them are now empty.

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We… well I, was thinking about  launching an April Fools prank on here tomorrow to see how far it would spread (if it spread at all,) but these things rarely work well, and if they do, its the elaborate ones that do and I’m far too hungry to think of one of those. It got me thinking though of pranks that have been played out in this city. Below is my top five:

Save the Park!

5) Save the Park, 2006. In 2006, more than 250k listeners to the RTE radio programme “Mooney goes Wild on One” were informed of impending government plans as per a report entitled “Amended Programme for Rail, Integrated with Luas; First Official On- line Report” to build a dual carriageway with ten metre high screening walls down Chesterfield Avenue in the middle of the park. It was announced protestors had arrived to demonstrate the abominable plans. Pity they didn’t cop the abbreviation of the report spelt out APRIL FOOL.

"Like icebergs it was. Icebergs floating down the canal."

4) Icebergs on the Grand Canal, 1968. Not an April Fool this one, but an October one. October 1968 to be precise. JayCarax has an interesting piece on this here, that I’d only be doing an injustice in trying to re-hash for this piece. Just think of your average “Fairy Liquid in the fountain” trick times twenty.

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I took a swing by the aforementioned Cromwell’s Quarters earlier to get a snap of the recently replaced sign. Whether the old sign was swiped or merely kept in storage while building work was going on next to the lane, who knows, but its not there if you take a look on Google Maps…

Yup, Cromwell's Quarters!

I also came across this map from 1885, seven years before the name changed to Cromwell’s Quarters on the excellent rootschat forum which marks the steps as “Murdering Lane.” Granted, you do have to squint, but there it is between Bowe Lane and the South Dublin Union.

Just beside Bowe Bridge is... Murdering Lane! Kudos to shanew147 for the upload.

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The Alamo on Fleet Street has been a subject of humour on CHTM before, with their ludicrous advertising of bargain €4.50 pints (rumoured to be poured from a can by the way,) but its not a place I’d set foot in until last night. We always talk about reviewing more eateries on here but the bloody price of eating out in Dublin prohibits it most of the time. But, with a cool sixty quid in my pocket, having backed O’Driscoll to score the first try in the rugby, and the lure of post pint Mexican food great, a troupe of us made our way from the stools in Brogan’s the oldest Mexican restaurant in Dublin.

The Alamo

Its a lovely little place inside, the bang on waiter offering us a table in the window – nice to be able to look at the world go by. To be honest, none of us was sober at this point, having imbibed several pints of the black stuff throughout the afternoon, but whilst my memory generally goes after said pints, its hard to forget the food here- truly amazing. I got the chicken wings to start, having been told on the way down that they were the best in Dublin. And they didn’t disappoint. Not too spicy, more a smoky, sweet taste but undoubtedly the best wings I’ve tasted in Dublin, and thats saying something. €8.50 for a starter, a little pricy but this is Temple Bar. To be honest, they could have done as a main course, the bowl overflowing with a good twenty wings. Thats a lot of chickens… I knicked a couple of Chris’s Lambada Sizzlers- deep fried jalapenos stuffed with cream cheese, the business.

The Quesedilla for main course, and I couldn’t finish it- Huge chunks of chicken with quacamole, cheese and spring onion wrapped in soft fresh tortilla. A really tasty dish, but not without a downside- the price. €17.95 for a main course is something you couldn’t afford to do every week… or every month for that matter. I certainly wouldn’t have been doing it only for the ever so kind Paddy Power was paying for it and not me. Helping the food go down was a jug of frozen margarita. How very cosmopolitan of us. Definitely a place I’d go back to, I reckon I might give Tommy Bowe a shot next week…

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DFallon recently uploaded a great document regarding the etymology of some Dublin place names and of a 1922 proposal to change some of them. One place name that skipped the Corpo’s attention in that report, and funnily enough ever since then (given that the name involved invokes little but hatred in most Irish people,) is “Cromwell’s Quarter’s,” an unmarked alleyway connecting Bow Lane and James’ Street.

Cromwell's Quarters, 1991. By Tom O'Connor Photography

You can just about make out the street sign in the top left of the photograph, but as you’ll see below, that wall no longer exists, and the street sign has disappeared with it; I’d love to know whose attic its in! Aptly enough, the lane was only renamed Cromwell’s Quarters sometime around 1892, having been recorded in places as “Murdering Lane” in the 18/1900s and “The Murdring Lane” before that, as far back as 1603. A bone of contention this one- whilst many Dublin historians call the haunted steps around St. Auden’s the Forty Steps, Cromwell’s Quarters can also go by the same name. Either way, its not somewhere I’d like to hang around at night…

20 Years later and not much has changed!

Any other references to the man Teflon Bertie once refused a meeting with British Foreign Minister Robin Cook because of in Dublin placenames? (Ahern was due to meet Cook in a room in which a portrait of Cromwell hung. He famously walked out and refused to return until the portrait of “that murdering bastard” had been removed.)

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ADW's excellent take on Bertie Ahern.

I’ve a bit in the latest CrisisJam over on the excellent Politico.ie looking at the historical context of the collapse of Fianna Fail’s support in the capital. You can read it here.

Fianna Fail, Sean Lemass told a gathering of youth party members in Inchicore in November 1947, had “… more wage-earners in its ranks than any Labour Party, and more farmers than any Farmers Party.”

The class make-up of the party in Dublin was always a matter of considerable pride, when coupled with the historic roots of the party in the anti-treaty IRA. In 1954, when a young Charles Haughey was put before the people as a part of the “New Guard” of the party, he shared space on his inaugural election leaflet with Oscar Traynor and Harry Colley. Traynor was among the most highly regarded of the ‘men of Easter Week’, serving in the Metropole Hotel with the GPO Garrison during the rising. Harry Colley, the leaflet noted, had been “..left for dead at a Dublin street barricade.” Almost 40 years on from the rising, Fianna Fail was still presenting itself as the party, and indeed the vanguard, of Irish republicanism. New candidates like Haughey often came from the same bloodline as many of the ‘Old Guard’.

The Fianna Fail election leaflet mentioned in the piece, introducing a certain Charles Haughey to the fold, was uploaded here on Come Here To Me in the past. You can read it here.

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We have a few posts on here about Dublin’s Nitelink, including one of my favourite DFallon posts ever,  about his travails in Leixlip at silly o’clock in the morning having fallen asleep on one (if you haven’t read it yet, do so.) In the last couple of months, we’ve shared scary news of an impending cancellation of the service, set up a Facebook page to save it, and broken news of its current status.

Dublin Bus- Never change a crappy system.

So, when I saw the above stickers on Henry Grattan Bridge, I couldn’t help but grin and get the camera out. I don’t know how long the stickers have been about but what I do know is I WANT ONE.

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As mentioned before, last weekend was a busy one for CHTM! with involvement in the Punky Reggae Party gig on Friday night, the Sounds of Resistance gig on the Saturday night and the latest pub crawl scheduled for Sunday afternoon. Before the pub crawl though, JayCarax had lined up a walking tour of Grangegorman Military Cemetery for us, led by Ray Bateson, author of “They Died by Pearse’s Side,” historian and specialist on those killed in the Easter Rebellion, 1916. We were joined on the tour by comrades from Story Map, the Chasing the Light photography blog, and Irish History Podcast.

Grangegorman Military Cemetery

Grangegorman Military Cemetary lies 2.5 miles from the GPO, but ask any Dubliner about it’s existence and who’s buried there, and you can be guaranteed you’ll get a blank face from the majority of them. Located on Blackhorse Avenue, not far from The Hole in the Wall pub, it is the resting place of British soldiers who died or were killed in action on this island. Whilst, for obvious reasons, a large portion of our interest was given to those who died on Easter Week, there are graves scattered around of those who came/ were sent here to recover from wounds received in the trenches of World War 1 and a long line of graves for those who died in the sinking of the RMS Leinster in 1918.

5th Lancers, 25th April, 1916

Military casualties (not counting police) in the Easter Rebellion were around the 120 mark, with those killed serving a variety of different battalions though most notably, large numbers from the South Staffs and the Sherwood Foresters battalion, killed in the Battle for Mount Street Bridge. Battalion badges are marked on the headstones along with the name of the person buried, their rank and the date of their death whilst a very few have personal inscriptions. Matching the battalions and dates from the gravestones with the known events in Easter week can give us an idea of where these British soldiers met their deaths. The grave above bearing the date 25th April and the soldier’s battalion, the 5th Lancers, suggests for example, he was wounded the ambush of the ammunitions convoy by Ned Daly’s garrison at the Four Courts and died the following day.

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