Dublin, Springsteen and St Kevin, sláinte

Another fine weekend away. On Saturday I flew over to a sunny but breezy Dublin, escaping the rain back home.


I arrived in the city centre at midday and trolled around the Temple Bar area, looking for a quiet place for a refreshing drink. The pub bouncers were already in place, flexing their chests as the first of the hen and stag party groups were beginning to swarm. I decided to head for somewhere quieter, found a place near my hotel, and sank a Guinness. That's unusual for me - normally a drop of the black stuff makes me go 'Yeeuugh!' and I have to have something else instead. But when in Ireland, I guess... I've got nothing against Guinness in principle; the occasional bottle fortified my old gran through her old age, but I've seen the effect of too much on others and it ain't a pretty sight!

Everything in moderation is the key, like not going to all three of the Springsteen concerts in Dublin that were kicking off the 2008 European stadium tour! By arriving on Saturday I purposely skipped the first two shows on Thursday and Friday, building up my anticipation for the third on Sunday - more than likely the 'Last Dance' the E Street Band will play in the City.

So, what can I say about the show on Sunday night? EPIC.

An amazing set of 26 songs, a joyously lubricated crowd and a staggering performance by Bruce and the band that left everyone physically and emotionally exhausted. I'm beginning to think that the 58 year old guy could, as rumored, actually be super-human.
Setlist (courtesy of Backstreets):
No Surrender/Radio Nowhere/The Ties That Bind/Spirit in the Night/Gypsy Biker/Atlantic City/Reason to Believe/4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)/Growin' Up/Because the Night/She's the One/Livin' in the Future/Mary's Place/The Promised Land/Racing in the Street/The Rising/Last to Die/Long Walk Home/Badlands
Encore: Tenth Avenue Freeze-out/Born to Run/Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)/Dancing in the Dark/American Land/Ramrod/Glory Days

Screen Photo by 'roidrage'

I awoke early on Monday, feeling shattered, my back, arms and legs aching from the night before. Thankfully I was going to spend the day being driven around on a tour of Wicklow. It was another day of good weather. The Wicklow hills looked beautiful in the bright sunshine.


After briefly having to stop off at a Woollen Mill souvenir shop, designed to 'fleece' American tourists, our bus headed to Glendalough ('The valley of two lakes'), the magical setting of a monastic site founded by St Kevin in the 6th century.


Despite the presence of daytrippers, Glendalough is an amazingly peaceful place. I found the mixture of Celtic pagan and Christian religious symbolism around its ancient cathedral and cemetery to be very interesting.

Is it just me, or was there some kind of subversive, subconscious, sexual message being given out by the monks that once lived there?