across the Irish Sea

 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.

Sunday in Conwy

There comes a time when you switch from forging ahead and packing it in, to winding down and thinking about the return. I think this day marks that transition for us. It's as if we had done all that we were so keen on doing and now are happy just to do a little less and move at a wee bit slower pace.

As always, Sparrow is the first to wake up. Come visit Gogs, little one!






Snowdrop is more predictable: she is up when her clock tells her it's time. At 8:15 each morning, she makes it to my room as well. There's a mommy hiding under the quilt as well! See her?






How's the weather today? Let's check it the old fashioned way -- by stepping outside...






Not bad! Snowdrop, want to come along for the morning breakfast walk?
Yes!






Well, maybe not. Indoor play beckons!






I'm off along my usual route, through the church yard...






... out onto the street.






This is the block that contains Conwy's principle bakery.






Oh! Open later on Sunday! Well, okay, let me detour toward the water's edge...






... and stop by the coffee shop for my daily cappuccino from there. This time I do a timed release by a painting that sort of brings home the joys of travel as a senior!






When the bakery finally does open, a line forms. People want their morning pick me up.






We've sampled all of these: scones, welsh cakes, doughnuts, eccles cakes. I still feel they're all a tad too sweet, but when you're on vacation, you can relax your nutritional guard somewhat.






Walking back through the church yard cemetery, I notice planters full of herbs and edibles. The signs say Pick Me, Eat Me, but they appear untouched. Is it because it seems somehow wrong to eat stuff grown among ancient tombstones?






Breakfast...






And then one child naps and the other play with grandma while the parents visit the church which stands so close to our little house. And this brings us right up to the lunch hour. The vote is in: we go back to Johnny Dough for pizza. The kids love it too much to pass by. So, one more set of photos from the pizza place!
















Our post lunch ambition is to walk the old walls of Conwy. I pick up some info on this at the Visitor's Center and Snowdrop talks me into getting her a "calming stone." Rumor has it that wearing it puts you into a peaceful state. I tell her that she's a pretty peace loving calm child already, but she convinces me that this extra help is a good idea.






Sparrow gets a Cymru t-shirt. That's Welsh for Wales.






And now my daughter, the two kids and I set out for the walls. The views are lovely of course. You'd expect as much. Oh! A storm is brewing somewhere!






The castle once again...






The intrepid travelers!






The turffy gulls!






And a wee bird whose feathers I do not recognize.






Back on the streets of Conway, tourists dominate. It's Sunday and I believe the next week starts the holidays for younger kids here. The shops cater to them of course. I hear many parents saying "no, we're not getting that!" And some saying just the opposite.






We say "yes" to a small lollipop. Snowdrop is a girl who has completely abdicated pink and gone blue in her color choices. Ah, kids!





In the late afternoon we pack. We have to be on the 8:18 train out of here. The AirBnB must be neatened up, the suitcases standing, ready to go.

And in the evening, we go out to one last dinner in Wales. We eat at Watson's Bistro, a very tasty place that is barely a two minute walk from our Conwy home.










How the kids have grown in the last two weeks! Things that put them off, things that seemed uncomfortable and strange are now well within their comfort zone. New discoveries, letting go of steadfast rules -- all that happened, to both of them.

If travel does that to kids, it surely accomplishes similar miracles in adults. You're never the same person coming back as you were heading out.

(Back home, packing up scraps of souvenirs: a puffin bird picked up in support of the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds at the "Whole Foods" store in Galsgow, sea shells and stones gathered on the beaches of the Irish Sea, and a ribbon from a box of chocolates I purchased for a wee gift...)






One last evening look outside my window...





Tomorrow we return to Dublin.