The cold I had caught upon arriving in Ireland was killing me.
While in Barcelona the early October temperatures were around thirty degrees, in the Irish capital it seemed fall had arrived, pushing down down the mercury below ten degrees.
I was in Ireland attending a travel bloggers conference, TBEX Europe, but I was also eager to see the city and the rest of the country, a place I had been to a few years ago and that left me wanting more.
So when I booked the tickets, I decided that after the convention, that lasted two days, I would stay the weekend to travel around in Dublin and the Wicklow Mountains National Park.
Apart from harmless sightseeing, I also wanted to explore Dublin’s nightlife. I don’t usually go out when I travel, or at least not for four nights in a row, but this time was going to make an effort, particularly after learning that the Hard Working Class Heroes Festival was going to be happening that weekend. Despite of what its name might suggest, this festival is a music one and not a leftist political event.
Regardless of the HWCHF, I wanted go out in Dublin because the city has a reputation of having one of the most interesting indie music scenes in Europe.
So my body could not have picked a worse time to become an incubus of viral plague. Upon arrival, I began to sniffle and feel tired, it was not long before I got a fever and a headache.
But I wouldn’t give up.
Against all odds (and with the aid of my friends Paracetamol and Red Bull) I could overcome the desire to stay at the hostel and go out for a while to live the Irish nightlife and let my party animal self loose.
From all the live music options that Dublin has to offer (and trust me, it has lots), I chose a gig at Whelan’s, a popular venue located near Camden Street.
Whelan’s is composed of two rooms; on the main one there was an electronic band called Solar Bears. The second, more humble one, called Whelan’s 2 was hosting a gig by American folk singer-songwriter called Israel Nash Gripka.
I chose to see Nash, because electronic music bores the hell out of me.
So I got to Whelan’s 2 before the gig started. The decor and atmosphere of this venue were one of the most authentic and surreal experiences I lived in Dublin. A strong smell of stale beer and wet carpet flooded a windowless room boasting red lights and heavy, red velvet curtains that covered the wall behind the empty stage. I was probably the youngest person in the room.
So I ordered a Guinness and sat back.
Before the main show, it was the turn for a Swedish singer called Ellen Sundberg. Her music was composed of ironic lyrics, a deep voice and dark and gloomy sound mixed with large doses of folk that can only be provided by a guitar and a harmonica.
After a few songs, I discovered I was actually enjoying myself and Ellen’s music. Going out stopped being an imposition and started being a pleasure.
Then it was time for the main event and Israel Nash did not disappoint. With a rocky sound, folk and country influences and an almost torn voice, Israel Nash was icing on the cake of a night that had to end sooner than usual after the effects of my particular Red Bull and painkillers wore off.
The following night was the night of the Hard Working Class Heroes Festival.
When I first visited the festival’s website I was overwhelemed. The event lasts only for 3 days but it includes concerts from 100 bands in 7 different venues around Dublin!
Obviously I didn’t know any of the bands playing at the HWCH, but that is the whole point of the festival; promoting new artists and alternative music.
So I basically chose the gig that I wanted to attend based on the venue and not the band.
I chose The Button Factory, a huge venue in the middle of the Temple Bar area. It may have been a factory years ago, but currently the building looks as if it was built for music. I has a great distribution of space and it’s divided into different levels.
The electro-pop duo (trio that night) Ships was playing. They kind of reminded me of Moloko or Fleetwood Mac. And. I. Loved. Them.
So even though I fell in love with Ships, I still had to rest, the cold-slash-flue I had caught didn’t leave until the day I had to fly back to Spain.
And that was my little incursion into Dublin’s nightlife. It was not enough and I guess I’ll have to visit again to enjoy it at its fullest. No viruses allowed.
