Are You A Poshie?
corey says…I finally climbed out of my sumptuous bed at the Morrison at 8:30. I made myself a cuppa with their special loose leaf tea and popped my iPod into the room’s docking station to enjoy my own playlist.
Then it was into the enormous shower where I lathered up with the soaps and shampoos provided by the Burren Perfumery. In honor of Posh Day, I wrapped myself in the fluffy terry cloth robe and sipped another cup of tea.
I didn’t realize how much I enjoy all this pampering.
I then wandered down to Bloom’s Lane for some pastries. I sat outside in the sunshine and read the newspaper reports about Barack securing the Democratic nomination…my first reminder that this was an election year in the US. I quickly flipped to other news and then just sat and did some people watching.
As the steady stream of folks walked by, I was gauging whether or not these passersby were partaking in Posh Day. Women dressed in all black…probably on their way to a posh makeup counter or restaurant, but not Poshies…as I started calling them…us. Men in casual clothes with newspapers under their arms…probably about to relax and enjoy Posh Day like me. A hen party wearing matching t-shirts and drinking mimosas…likely to spend the day shopping…communal Poshies. Drunken individuals dragging their feet in slow motion and propping themselves against walls and windows…unlikely to be Poshies…although they didn’t appear to have a care in the world, so maybe they’re a different kind of Poshies.
The noon hour was quickly approaching, so I headed back up to my room to gather up my things and check out. Sigh.
I asked at the desk about spa treatments in the area. The hostess recommended one nearby; she offered to call and make an appointment for me, but after thinking about it, I decided I would rather spend the day outdoors. Spa treatments will have to wait until the next Posh Day.
So how to finish off Posh Day? The National Botanic Gardens…that sounded like the height of Victorian Poshness…and I was going to add a twist by making the mile or so trip on foot.
On the way, I walked along Mary Street passing the women selling strawberries and cherries from their old prams (baby-buggies). Fresh strawberries sounded very posh, but carrying them to the gardens did not, so I skipped the purchase.
A few blocks down, I turned north toward Phibsboro. It’s a busy little area with virtually no tourists. There were a lot of people failing the Posh Test there…especially the cluster of people rushing in and out of McDonald’s sucking down coffees and rushing away to some distant unposh destination. However, here, I still managed to spot a handful of Poshies…a woman casually walking a dog, laughing into her mobile phone…a slightly balding man with a grin on his face and a bouquet of chrysanthemums under his arm…an barrel-shaped old lady carrying a homemade purse singing some melodious hymn to herself at bus stop…all Poshies.
I crossed the Royal Canal and admired the path that ran alongside it. Looks like something to do next time I visit Dublin…I know Pat Liddy has a walking tour in his book…I’m not sure if it’s included in his podcast.
It wasn’t long before I started seeing the signs for the Botanic Gardens. It only took me about a half-hour to make the walk from my hotel, but I was going at a pretty good clip and the Morrison is on the north side of the River Liffey.
Once I reached the gardens, I was surrounded by Poshies…old ones, young ones, even little baby ones. Everyone there was having a wonderful time. Heck, with the weather as beautiful as it was and the dizzying list of specimens on display, it was impossible not to appreciate just how grand these gardens are.
I walked the perimeter first. Then inspected one of the glass houses…then another…then off to my favorite part, the rockery. On one of the paths, a little boy was trying to coax a squirrel towards him. The skittish animal suddenly ran right at him expecting food. The child screamed and hid behind his mother’s leg. The squirrel followed and the boy grabbed mom’s leg and spun around squealing as if he didn’t know if he was laughing or screaming.
The activity attracted the other squirrels and pretty soon the boy was tiptoeing away from his mom and about five squirrels surrounded him. People passing by laughed and pulled out their cameras considering it a charming little scene, but I thought it looked a bit more sinister. These squirrels were much more tame than I liked them to be.
I much preferred the black and white birds with blue tips on their wings (were they magpies?) who were nearly as tame, but they hopped instead of walked. They looked like kernels of popcorn bouncing in a hot pan.
The Botanical Gardens proved to be a wonderful addition to Posh Day.