8am, Morning at the Martello Tower, Sandycove"Stately,Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled,was sustained gently behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:"
"Introibo ad altare Dei" |
Joyce's Tower in Sandycove, Co. Dublin.
|
The Ha'penny Bridge over Anna Livia.
___________
The Four Courts from Grattan Bridge.
Bingo O'Loony
|
No. 7 Eccles St,. Home of Leopold and Molly Bloom.
"He pulled the hall door to after him very quietly, more, till the footleaf dropped gently over the threshold,a limp lid. Looked shut. Alright till I come back. The sun was nearing the steeple of Georges church. Be a warm day I fancy."
The One stop Shop
|
The Ghost of Nelson, O'Connell St., Dublin.
_________
The Pepperpot Church at Hubband Bridge
Decaying Elegance in the Liberties
|
After a stroll along Sandymount strand and some networking with " Gentlemen of the Press " Mr Bloom carries on for lunch around 1 pm
"His heart astir he pushed in the door of the Burton restaurant. Stink gripped his trembling breath: pungent meatjuice,slop of greens. See the animals feed.
Men, Men, Men.
Perched on high stools by the bar, hats shoved back, at the tables calling for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. A pallid suetfaced young man polished his tumbler knife fork and spoon with his napkin. New set of microbes. A man with an infant's saucestained napkin tucked round
him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet. A man spitting back on his platehalfmasticated gristle: no teeth to chewchewchew it........."
Nauseated, Mr Bloom backs out.
"Couldn't eat a morsel here..... He came out into clearer air and turned back towards Grafton street. Eat or be eaten. Kill! Kill!........... I hate dirty eaters."
Men, Men, Men.
Perched on high stools by the bar, hats shoved back, at the tables calling for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. A pallid suetfaced young man polished his tumbler knife fork and spoon with his napkin. New set of microbes. A man with an infant's saucestained napkin tucked round
him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet. A man spitting back on his platehalfmasticated gristle: no teeth to chewchewchew it........."
Nauseated, Mr Bloom backs out.
"Couldn't eat a morsel here..... He came out into clearer air and turned back towards Grafton street. Eat or be eaten. Kill! Kill!........... I hate dirty eaters."
