On this first of July, I wake up once again to a brilliant view of Conwy Castle.
Take a deep breath and get moving!
This morning is a challenge! To get us out of the house in Conwy, bathed and packed and breakfasted, to clean up the place to a decent standard, to walk with our bags, kids and stroller to the train station (admittedly not far but there are stairs!) in time for the 8:18 morning train to Holyhead -- that takes chutzpah. Cheekiness actually. A few minutes into the turmoil, Snowdrop says "I'm feeling a little sad, worried and shy." She is very in touch with her feelings. In a few minutes she adds "and my head hurts." Indeed. She feels a tad warm. Sparrow is a little less frazzled. "You want a biscuit, wee laddie?" "Yeth!"
Breakfast, of sorts.
One final walk through Conwy, though briskly and with a purpose.
Remarkably, we are at the station ten minutes before the train pulls in.
(Looks like the school term is still in full swing for some students...)
Get ready to load our stuff, here comes the train!
It's a calm and wonderful ride: a mere hour ...
... and there are interesting station stops along the way. Have I not convinced you that the Welsh language is a total pronunciation quagmire? Here's a town we pulled into:
I mean, where do you even begin! (I read later that the town has the second longest name in the world. Translated, it means: Saint Mary's Church in the hollow of the white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio of the red cave.)
We disembark in Holyhead and walk over to the ferry.
There is a lot of waiting at this stage: wait for them to start the boarding process. Wait to get on the bus to take you to the ferry. Wait for the ferry to leave port. Finally, we're off.
Initially, at least some of us are excited.
But, as the captain had forewarned, there is, in the first half of the 2.5 hour trip, a lot of rolling.
I dislike boats. Rolling means that when you look out the window, the horizon goes up and down a lot. Of the five of us, only one seemed to be unaffected by it.
As I write this, many hours later, I still feel the sway of that boat. We talked about how much would we have to be paid to take a job serving passengers on that ferry. My own view? An awful lot.
Finally! The Irish shoreline!
And even better -- getting off the boat.
One final leg of the journey: cab to our AirBnB. The cabs at the ferry are small and so we must take two. No matter. It's a short trip.
My driver is a West Coaster, an Irishman to the core. With a wife who was one of eleven girls. Can you imagine -- eleven girls. Better yet, he tells me: his three children have given him eleven grandkids, ages 2 to 20. And again, all girls!
Well that's good, no?
Sure. But oh, they can fight over a toy! We just came back from a family vacation and now the parents aren't speaking to each other and we all need a vacation!
Ha! One better over here: we're definitely speaking to each other, though perhaps we, too, will need a vacation after we return...
In Dublin, we're staying in an AirBnB flat that is owned by the Irish Landmark Trust. It's in an 18th century building that once housed the stables for the stately homes. And actually, on the ground floor, there are still stables, used as a pit stop for horses used by Ireland's police. Upstairs, there is a three bedroom rental, somewhat old fashioned, in fitting with the historic nature of the place.
(the kitchen...)
(my bedroom...)
(with a view to the garden of the stately homes...)
(Snowdrop's room... You'd never know the girl has developed a fever, would you...)
The sitting room is a little gloomy, but hey, we're here for just a short while. Passing through...
Lunch? Around the corner, at Voila, where the smoked salmon, as everywhere in Ireland, is delicious.
We rest afterwards. The kids need downtime. Truthfully, we all need downtime. And my son-in-law needs a dentist. And the boat inside my head needs to stop rocking!
By evening we set out to get something to eat. We go to the Fade Street Social Gastro Bar. We've learned something about restaurant choices: tapas style eating is perfect for us. Seven small plates for three adults and Snowdrop allows us to sample many things and it allows her to (occasionally) discover something new and wonderful. Just a few photos, not of the food (which was in fact very very good) but of the people who of course make this complicated journey so very rewarding.
These kids managed a very long day under trying conditions...
Looking out my window one last time: no castle, no sheep, but the light is exquisite and there is a gull, soaring, diving, playing with the wind and the evening wonders of Dublin.
Take a deep breath and get moving!
This morning is a challenge! To get us out of the house in Conwy, bathed and packed and breakfasted, to clean up the place to a decent standard, to walk with our bags, kids and stroller to the train station (admittedly not far but there are stairs!) in time for the 8:18 morning train to Holyhead -- that takes chutzpah. Cheekiness actually. A few minutes into the turmoil, Snowdrop says "I'm feeling a little sad, worried and shy." She is very in touch with her feelings. In a few minutes she adds "and my head hurts." Indeed. She feels a tad warm. Sparrow is a little less frazzled. "You want a biscuit, wee laddie?" "Yeth!"
Breakfast, of sorts.
One final walk through Conwy, though briskly and with a purpose.
Remarkably, we are at the station ten minutes before the train pulls in.
(Looks like the school term is still in full swing for some students...)
Get ready to load our stuff, here comes the train!
It's a calm and wonderful ride: a mere hour ...
... and there are interesting station stops along the way. Have I not convinced you that the Welsh language is a total pronunciation quagmire? Here's a town we pulled into:
I mean, where do you even begin! (I read later that the town has the second longest name in the world. Translated, it means: Saint Mary's Church in the hollow of the white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio of the red cave.)
We disembark in Holyhead and walk over to the ferry.
There is a lot of waiting at this stage: wait for them to start the boarding process. Wait to get on the bus to take you to the ferry. Wait for the ferry to leave port. Finally, we're off.
Initially, at least some of us are excited.
But, as the captain had forewarned, there is, in the first half of the 2.5 hour trip, a lot of rolling.
I dislike boats. Rolling means that when you look out the window, the horizon goes up and down a lot. Of the five of us, only one seemed to be unaffected by it.
As I write this, many hours later, I still feel the sway of that boat. We talked about how much would we have to be paid to take a job serving passengers on that ferry. My own view? An awful lot.
Finally! The Irish shoreline!
And even better -- getting off the boat.
One final leg of the journey: cab to our AirBnB. The cabs at the ferry are small and so we must take two. No matter. It's a short trip.
My driver is a West Coaster, an Irishman to the core. With a wife who was one of eleven girls. Can you imagine -- eleven girls. Better yet, he tells me: his three children have given him eleven grandkids, ages 2 to 20. And again, all girls!
Well that's good, no?
Sure. But oh, they can fight over a toy! We just came back from a family vacation and now the parents aren't speaking to each other and we all need a vacation!
Ha! One better over here: we're definitely speaking to each other, though perhaps we, too, will need a vacation after we return...
In Dublin, we're staying in an AirBnB flat that is owned by the Irish Landmark Trust. It's in an 18th century building that once housed the stables for the stately homes. And actually, on the ground floor, there are still stables, used as a pit stop for horses used by Ireland's police. Upstairs, there is a three bedroom rental, somewhat old fashioned, in fitting with the historic nature of the place.
(the kitchen...)
(my bedroom...)
(with a view to the garden of the stately homes...)
(Snowdrop's room... You'd never know the girl has developed a fever, would you...)
The sitting room is a little gloomy, but hey, we're here for just a short while. Passing through...
Lunch? Around the corner, at Voila, where the smoked salmon, as everywhere in Ireland, is delicious.
We rest afterwards. The kids need downtime. Truthfully, we all need downtime. And my son-in-law needs a dentist. And the boat inside my head needs to stop rocking!
By evening we set out to get something to eat. We go to the Fade Street Social Gastro Bar. We've learned something about restaurant choices: tapas style eating is perfect for us. Seven small plates for three adults and Snowdrop allows us to sample many things and it allows her to (occasionally) discover something new and wonderful. Just a few photos, not of the food (which was in fact very very good) but of the people who of course make this complicated journey so very rewarding.
These kids managed a very long day under trying conditions...
Looking out my window one last time: no castle, no sheep, but the light is exquisite and there is a gull, soaring, diving, playing with the wind and the evening wonders of Dublin.
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