My great uncle, a lifelong Dubliner himself, graciously took Jacob and me down to Waterford. We sat low through the Irish countryside in one of those classic black European Audis that you see in films. The ride down was lovely and was filled with vast pastoral fields of emerald green occupied by horses, sheep, and cattle roaming mindlessly. We arrived into the river city and went straight to the the grave sight of Blessed Edmund Rice at Mount Sion. Before Holy Cross, both Jacob and I went to Catholic Memorial, which is a Christian Brother’s school in Boston, so it was humbling and wonderful to visit the place where it all started. Edmund Rice’s coffin was placed in the chapel, so we conveniently said a prayer and headed to lunch.
Jacob ’23 and I at Mount Sion
We went for a bite and a pint at Granville Hotel, which was situated on the edge of the River Suir. It was an old-fashioned pub with dark mahogany walls filled with paintings of horses and past soldiers. We had roast beef and mashed potatoes with butter-glazed green beans. After lunch, we walked around the narrow streets of Waterford and stumbled upon the original glass factory that is famously known for its crystal.
Another streetA street
Although the factory was closed, the shop wasn’t, so we went inside and checked out the fancy glass. It was a little above our price range so we just peered around. Once we had finished admiring the crystal, we continued our walk around the medieval city until we arrived back at the car. It was a simple and relaxed day, but one well spent away from the bustling city of Dublin. Thanks, Uncle David!
After some texting and planning, a few of us international students headed off to Tara Station to catch the Dublin Area Rapid Transit or as a Dubliner would call it, the DART. The train ride from the city to Bray was roughly 40 minutes, so we spent our time chatting with each other about the previous week’s
Tara Train Station
adventures and looking out into that constant mist that surrounds Ireland. “Rapid” might not be the most accurate word to describe the DART, nonetheless, I grew up in Boston and we, unfortunately, have the T. When it was our turn to get off, we gathered our belongings and made our way down to the main road, which is horizontal to the Irish Sea. Downtown Bray is a lovely strip consisting of various restaurants, spots for children to play, and a few shops. It’s modest, but a beautiful beach town to the likes of Gloucester or really any north shore town in Massachusetts.
We wandered our way to the boardwalk and breathed in the sea air, while looking up to Brayhead, the seaside town’s hill that serves more like a cliff on the portion facing the ocean. A stone crucifix placed on the apex of Brayhead towers over the town, reminding us of Ireland’s strong Christian connection.
Bray Boardwalk
My mind reflects back to the purple-outlined crucifix on the Luth Center, which crowns Mount St. James. The beach is covered with stones of blue and gray hues. We take turns throwing them into the rough water, hoping for at least one or two skips. A few succeed, but not most. A fish and chips shack in the distance catches our eyes and we make a decisive turn towards it like the hundreds of seagulls preying on the leftovers scattered on the coastline. The fish: mediocre, perhaps a 6/10. The chips: better, more like an 8/10. A dab of salt, vinegar, and lemon goes a long way, however, not as far as a sitting-view of the Irish coast and encompassing fog.
Another View of Bray
After a few minutes of eating and letting the lunch time snack digest, we decided to make our way towards Brayhead for the climb. It’s a relatively quick climb, but it is steep, so bring good shoes if you ever get the opportunity to go! After hiking through the woods for a bit, we breached the tree line and traversed
Jacob Azzi ’23 and Me
our way up to the rock-face at the top with the stone cross there. Away from the seagulls’ screams and the ocean’s violent roar, a peaceful whistle of wind against the curvature of the austere mountain-tops can be heard at the summit of Brayhead. Purple flowers called Heather flowers, also referred scientifically as Calluna, are brilliantly dispersed along the mountain top creating a sort of impressionist painting.
Purple Heathers
Another daily reference (the color purple) that I go to a school… on a hill… in Worcester :)! The view down to Bray gave an entirely new perspective to the beach where we skipped rocks. The folks skipping rocks, now, looked like little ants. I suppose everything is small when given a new perch. We lay on the cold stone beside the cross for
awhile taking in as much as we could and trying to find some solitude away from the bustling city of Dublin.
A View Down on BrayOn Top of Brayhead
Once we satisfied our need to relax and enjoy Brayhead, we agreed to hike to the next town over called, Greystones, to catch the train back to Dublin. We made our way through beautiful pastoral fields of haystacks and sheep to the outer narrow streets of Greystones. Some of us got gelato at the local shop in town, then we all caught the DART back to Dublin. A wonderfully spent day in Bray.
