Dublin

A city of stories

By Thomas Feng

August 29^th, 2018

At eight on a fine mid-summer Tuesday morning, I landed in Dublin after sleeping overnight on the couches of Amsterdam Airport. I hopped on the first bus into the city and fell asleep by the window in the morning sun.

Despite being weary, I was excited to be in Dublin. Monuments and historic sites were aplenty, each with their own old folk tale, from the 200 year old Ha'penny Bridge, to the Molly Malone statue, to the old Guinness river in the heart of Dublin.

I could feel the city's storied history fill me with optimism and hope.

Parliament Square

Such optimism faded when I stepped into Parliament Square within Trinity College. Waiting for a student-led tour of Trinity College to begin, I felt a group of posh caucasian teenagers looking at me and snickering to each other. I was vulnerable.

They approached me and mockingly said "你好 (ni hao)", before deciding to all bow to me condescendingly. They briskly walked away cackling to themselves, before I could respond properly. I felt humiliated and ashamed. No one else had seen it or cared.

Stories like these make people like me question ourselves, our identities, and our self-esteem. But I knew I had to move on and not let them ruin my day.

Trinity College

The tour began and I listened to the stories of Trinity: the dreaded exam hall, and how it would come back to haunt students at graduations which were read out completely in Latin, but students were called out in the order of grades; the use of stolen plans from an English architect by the University without acknowledgement in the 18th century; students living in the oldest building on campus running out in public in their towels to access the showers and more.

I listened to their stories and left my own story of Trinity behind.

Sphere Within Sphere Sculpture by Arnaldo Pomodoro. Trinity College, Dublin.

The Long Room

After the tour, I went inside the Long Room: the old library of Trinity College which houses 200,000 old books. I spent a long time here daydreaming and thinking how about how fortunate I am to be standing in such a monumental place. I am glad Trinity decided to keep it.

The Winding Stair

I left the Long Room and went to the other side of town to the famous book shop and restaurant: The Winding Stair. Locals often meet there, browsing inside together or grabbing a drink somewhere nearby.

It is an inviting book shop with forest green walls and dim lighting inside, filled with feminist and Irish literature. After a while of browsing, I picked up a copy of James Joyce's Dubliners to read, eager to read more about the city.

St. Stephen's Green

As the clock struck eight thirty in the evening, I headed to St Stephen's Green and basked in the sun until it came down.

I read stories of epiphany written by James Joyce from a time of rebellion in Dublin, with references to the many places I'd visited. As I took a slow walk around the park, an overwhelming desire struck me to write and to write more often.