The Dubliner: Searching for Meaning at 2am
Temple Bar, Part 2: Saturday at 2am (well, let’s call it 1am)
Ubi sunt nunc gloria Babylonia? Where now the glories of Babylon?
My best days are clearly behind me. I had it all planned, I’d have a few pints in ‘The Swan’ - a classy old Dublin pub with a weird mixture of inner city regulars and med students from the nearby college – then I’d go home, watch a late night movie, stay up until 2am before heading out on my tour of the dreaded Temple Bar in the full glory of its early morning revelry.
That’s been the plan for three weeks now, but on last two weekends I flaked and found myself in bed by 11pm. Secretly, I think, I was a little afraid (after all, no sane Dubliner over the age of 18 goes near Temple Bar after 9 o’clock).
