くすんだ幻想

ダブリン旅行日誌、四日目。

The fourth day of my trip to Dublin.


まだ行っていないと思っていた方向に歩き出すが、この光景は見たことがあることを途中気づく。前回右に曲がった所を、今回は左に曲がることにする。

I start out walking in what I think is a new direction, but after a while I realize I've seen these sights before. I come to a place where I turned right the previous time, and turn left instead.


マザー・ケリーズというパブで朝の杯を喫しておく。今日はパブの前をあまり通らない。たくさん出会うけれど、素通りはしない。

I stop for a breakfast pint in a pub called Mother Kelly's. I don't pass many pubs today. I mean, I see a lot of pubs, but I don't pass many of them.


Pub window
Breakfast in a pub.
Hobbit-door.
A hobbit-door.

面白い建築とその古び方をまたたくさん観ることができる。ダブリンの多くの家屋には地下というか半地下になっている階がある。道と家の間に堀のような隙があって、玄関前の階段がそれを渡る。階段の下に小人さんのドアみたいなものもよく見かける。

I get another eyeful of interesting architecture and the way it's aged. Many Dublin homes seem to have a three-quarters-sunken basement floor. Between the home and the street there's a sort of dry moat, bridged by the front stoop, and under the stoop I often see a small hobbit-door.


守衛の設備もよく見かける。団地住民に対する「現金を秘蔵するな」という看板。バラ線とか、硝子の破片とか、人間も猫もの侵入者を妨げる設備も。

I also see various forms of security. Signs warning flat residents, "Do not hoard cash!" Barbed wire and other discouragements to trespassers and cats.


Thorny barbs
A twisted form of barbed wire like canted thorns.
Door with broken glass
Door with broken glass above it, though the lower walls on each side of it do not have broken glass.

Not a library
This building is not a library.
Absolutely not a library
It is not, we assure you, a library.

緑に豊富なだだっ広い公園に来る。この公園は、東京の公園と一つだけ大きな違いがある。それは、人が少ないこと。

I come to a wide-open green park, different from Tokyo parks in one respect: the scarcity of people.


A park
I found a park.

昨日なかなかたどり着かなかった海へと、今日は近づく。入り江の辺を歩いてみると、本当は反対側の辺じゃないとちゃんと海に辿らないことを気づき、来た道を引き返す。

I draw near the sea, which I'd failed to get to the day before. I walk up one side of an inlet, then realize that to get to the sea I need to be on the other side; so I backtrack.


Birds
On the way to the sea.
Near the sea
From the wrong side of an inlet.
Park
A seafront park.

クロンターフという区域にたどり、海辺の遊歩道を散歩する。区域の歴史を案内する看板が連なっており、それらによって千年前ここに起こった戦争のことを知る。ブライアン・ボル上級王がその戦争に参戦し、戦死したという。

In an area called Clontarf I come to a promenade along the seafront. There is a series of signs giving a history of the area, in particular of a battle fought in the area a thousand years before by High King Brian Boroihm, who was killed there.


Bay
A bay where a battle was fought a thousand years ago.
Seafront promenade
A seafront promenade.
Factories
Factories.


ブル島まで長い道のりだ。道端の標識によるとこの島は、人間の活動に因りたまたまできた島なのだという。同じ標識の地図で、先に「木製の橋」と称する木製の橋があることを知って、その名称だけのために頑張って橋まで歩くことにする。

It's a long slow walk out toward Bull Island. According to signage, this island was accidentally created by humans. An area map shows that there is a bridge named "Wooden Bridge"—seeing that name is the only thing that motivates me to walk the rest of the way.


Wooden bridge
The Wooden Bridge from a distance.
Wooden bridge
The Wooden Bridge.
Only three homes?
There are not many homes on the island.

海事の痕跡が見つかる。どれも興味をそそる、ロマンを漂わすものだ。僕なら商船の船員を職にできるのかなとたまに思うことはある。現代の船員はほとんど、発展途上国からの人で、低賃金・長時間・悪条件の環境の中で働かせられていると聞いたことがある。

I see various relics of the nautical life, romantic and intriguing. I wonder sometimes if I could make it in the merchant marine. I've heard that it's all third-world workers in sweatshop-like conditions these days.


Anchor
An old anchor, in somebody's yard.
Mast
An old mast.
Boat
An old boat, in somebody's yard.

Island road
The road on the island.

島の岬への道がある。その途中ゴルフ場を見つけ、妙にがっかりするけれど、その後砂浜で遊んでいるシスターの団体を見かけたらすぐに機嫌をなおす。シスターだって砂浜で遊ぶんだ。

On the island, there's a road leading to the cape. Along the way I pass—you guessed it—a golf course. But then on the beach I see a party of nuns, which lifts my spirits again. Even nuns go to the beach.


Golf course
A golf course. Sigh.
Nuns
Nuns on the beach.

島の岬に聖母マリアの像が高く掲げられている。船渠労働者組合が立てたという。聖母マリアの下にあるベンチに腰をかけてワインをすすりながらしばし海を眺める。

At the very tip of the island, there is a statue raised aloft of the Virgin Mary, put there by dock workers apparently. I walk out and have some wine under her watchful gaze, and look at the sea.


Statue
Statue from a distance.
Statue
Statue.
Statue
Statue, zoomed in.

The memorial project was initiated by the dockers of the port of Dublin and mainly funded by them and other port workers.
Dedication for the statue.
Irish Sea
The Irish Sea beyond the statue.

クロンターフへ戻り、適当に住宅街を迂回する。そうするとまた古い墓地を偶然見つける。旅の二つ目の墓地なのだ。

I head back to Clontarf, taking random suburban detours. Quite by chance, I come across an old cemetary (my second of this trip).


Church
A Clontarf church.
Cemetary gate
The gate to an old cemetary.
Headstone
A headstone.

時代の風潮に従って墓碑の流行り廃りがあると思うけれど、僕にとってはやっぱり一番古いものが墓碑らしく見える。

Fashions in tombstones change over the ages, but it's the very oldest ones that look like tombstones to me.



ある住宅街の平凡な道の、平凡な二軒の民家の間に、千年前のブライアン・ボル上級王が水を汲んだという井戸の場所を記念する栓を見つけた。普通の住宅街ではなかなか見かけないものだなと思った。

Also in one of these neighborhoods, on a normal street between two normal residences, I find a plug commemorating a well that High King Brian Boro may have used. Not a thing one finds in every residential neighborhood.


Brian Boru's well
A monument marking Brian Boru's well.
Brian's well
Although there seems to be some question as to whether Brian ever actually drank from this well.

パブでまた一杯飲んで、それから朝と同じ公園で瓶の「大麦ワイン」を飲む。モーターサイクルに乗った青年(公園でモーターサイクルを乗ってはいけないでしょう)が僕に声をかけて「おい、スキンって貸してくれよ」と言われた。スキン?何だそりゃ?紙幣のこと?避妊具?ピザの生地?結局紙巻きタバコの紙のことだったらしい。

I have a pint in a pub, then a bottle of "barley wine" in the same park I passed in the morning. An Irish kid on a motorbike (I don't think he's supposed to be riding a motorbike in a public park) accosts me, asking if I have any "skins". What's that, money? Prophylactics? Pizza crusts? It turns out he wants some rolling papers.


Meaningless arch
An arch over nothing.
Supper
Supper in the park.
Fire truck
An Irish fire truck! At this point I was just taking pictures of everything.

Train tracks
A scene from an overpass.
Train tracks
Same scene again.
Spire
The spire on O'Connell Street.

さすが人間嫌いの僕のことだから、今まで見てきたもの、撮影してきたものはほぼ建物やドア、陸の風景ばかりで、人間を全然見ても写真を撮ってもいないことが少し気になる。だからアン・ラール(中央地区)をさまよい出して適当に知らない人の写真をこっそりと撮りまくる。

I'm well aware that, misanthropist that I am, I've been mainly looking at and photographing buildings, objects, doors, landscapes—anything but people. So I start roaming An Lár (City Centre), snapping candids of random strangers.


Two guys
A conference.
Two ladies
Waiting for a chance.
Bicycle rickshaw
Taking a break.

夜に僕の唯一のアイルランドにいる知り合いのポールと彼の何人かの友達に待ち合わせてアン・ラールのパブで一緒に飲む。とても楽しい。僕の彼女に、日本で買えないヴィネガーチップスのお土産を頼まれたためポールたちにお勧めを訊ねたら、話が意外に盛り上がって地元のヴィネガーチップスをわざわざ詳しく説明してくれた。ありがたいな。

In the evening I meet up with Paul, my one Irish connection, and a few of his friends to enjoy the craic in an An Lár pub. It's lots of fun. My S.O. has asked me to bring her vinegar chips as a souvenir, so I ask Paul and his friends for recommendations, and they give me a surprising volume of detail on various domestic brands of crisps. Thanks, guys.