Vanity... and Potatoes.

This time last week (I'm writing this in Central European Time Zone. It's noonish here- you do the math) I sat in a taxi and watched as Dublin appeared in front of me- slowly materializing from green hills and small industrial holds near the airport, to the somewhat shabby suburban structures littering the outskirts of the city, to the mix of quaint brick buildings and pubs, and magisterial cathedrals, colleges and state houses that make up the center.

My camera was already attached to my face, eyes and fingers ready at the trigger.

Now, I am not normally a vain person- but I am absolutely when it comes to my photographs.  Especially the ones I take traveling.  If I do say so myself, I think I am not such a bad photographer.  To be fair, many places I go turn out to be "point and shoot" places- where the mountains align perfectly, or the sun scatters shadows in the most delicious patterns, or even where the rain obscures the view and creates an elusive photographic masterpiece.  It's not really me, that is, it's the destination.

And the camera.

Except for Dublin.  As we tooled around, me constantly searching for a photo opportunity, I started to question the viewfinder, and then my own eyes.  I just couldn't find The Shot.  I couldn't find the eye-catching, all-consuming, will-interrupt-the-flow-of-pedestrian-or-motorized-traffic-to-get-it SHOT.  You know it, you know the one I'm talking about.

It bothered me for a while.  I mean... the Temple Bar Food Market; Dublin Castle; Christchurch Cathedral; even the Guinness Storehouse wouldn't give up a good shot.  Okay, so it bothered me for more than a while.

Until I sat down at pub and started sipping a wine (Yes.  I drank wine.  In Ireland.  Get over it.) while taking in the scene.  There was a Hen's party at the same pub, along with a huge group of tourists, about three dozen football (European) or Rugby fans, and a host of other characters.  And sitting there, having a drink, letting the crowd and the culture wash over me, it hit me.

While I may be a vain person, Dublin is not a vain city.  There are beautiful parts to it, absolutely.  But it's not a city you go to for beauty or vanity.  It is a city you go to for laughing; for witnessing impromptu serenades, listening to a story, sharing a table or a pint or a perch, stealing a kiss in public.  It is a city with such depth of personality that it doesn't need pretty.  Perfect strangers will share a giggle with you- there are not a whole lot of major cities that can boast that particular quality anymore, not to my estimation anyway.

Once that hit me, once I let go of the need to capture the perfect picture (once I let go of my own ego) and instead focused on the city for what it is, I saw so much more.  So many colors and characters, so many moments in time.

And so, I give you Dublin: