We went into a church looking for a priest. Not just any old priest, but one I first met about thirty nine years ago. He was not there, so we had a nosey round before entering the confession box. This was some confession box, not like any other I came across in all my life.
Going to confession became part of my weekly ritual at the age of seven. Daddy had a liking for the ‘Order’ churches rather than the parish church at the end of the road. Mind you these days these churches have become parish churches and St Saviour’s Church, Dominick Street, Dublin built in 1858 is no different, it was run by the Dominican Order and that was where we ended up late on a Saturday afternoon. To my small frame and mind it was enormous, dark and a smell of candle wax smoke mixed with that of unwashed bodies seemed to invade the pews.
I think it was chosen because it was close to the centre of the city, where Mammy and I could do the weekly meat, vegetable & fruit shopping, while my other siblings in the car bickered and daddy prayed! Once we returned with arms as long as a giraffe’s neck and enough food for an army it was offloaded into the boot/trunk and the family traipsed into the church with our grocery lists of sins.
‘The Confession Box’ we visited on Tuesday was larger and brighter than the one mentioned above, yet it was small for its purpose and we were made welcome at the door with more friendly faces inside….. We were even offered a coffee. A coffee in confession?
We decided to have a drink, but what we drank was certainly not coffee!! Purely medicinal you know. 😉
Does that look like coffee?
‘The Confession Box’ is a few doors away from the Pro-Cathedral, it used to be called ‘The Maid of Erne’ in days gone by, now it is a little oasis featuring the twin appeal of a hospitable welcome and a really decent pint of Guinness.
How the pub got its name
Time was standing still
My request to take photographs was given a positive response and one of the punters suggested I go upstairs to get a photo of the bar from above. Up stairs and downstairs I went looking and snapping all around me. It was like a journey through my past life in the pictures on the walls. Scenes of daily life in Dublin through the ages. Photos from the sixties had be gazing to see if I could spot anyone I knew. Older photos told me what Dublin of an earlier age looked like.
and the other side.
When I finally came back to ground level a glass of the black stuff was waiting for me. The four regulars at the bar bantered and chatted with us and it was no length before we knew their back stories and their plans for the week ahead. Another half pint of Guinness each was ordered for my sister and I, by a very nice man called Jimmy. At this stage we reshaped our plans for the day as most of our morning was spent on very interesting history & research! 😉 If our mother only knew…..!
I told you it was in aid of research!!
So now you see why taking my camera for a walk has become my favourite hobby. It opens doors, relaxes and loosens tongues, and I meet wonderful people.
This LBC topic My favourite hobby was suggested for us by Rohit who seems to be hiding these days. I wonder if he has taken his camera with him? Time now to hop on over to see the snapshots in words from our other active members: Delirious, Maria/Gaelikaa, Maria SilverFox Magpie 11, OCD writer, Padmum, Paul, Ramana, The Old Fossil, Will Knott.
♣ ♣ ♣
Alas, Magpie 11 has stepped back from our group at the moment. I do hope that in the future he finds the desire, energy and inspiration to rejoin with us again. His contributions were always enjoyable and informative. He will be missed.