London to Wales to Dublin, Ireland


A Train and a Ferry

I've been around quite a bit and so when I noted that my train from London to Holyhead, Wales had booked me on Coach B out of Euston Station...and when the departures board at the station conveniently displayed that Coach B was the second coach of the train...I was confident that the second coach of the train would indeed be my coach.

Coach B was the fourth coach.

On the other hand...the train was listed as leaving London at 9:10...and it left at....9:10. What a concept....trains.....and trains running on time!


All too brief a time in London...and I walked far too many city blocks last night. But it was fun to experience. Perhaps another day in London at the end of my trip.



We arrive at the first station along the way...Milton Keynes where we are about to attach five more coaches to this train. The train conductor comes over the P.A. System and announces that we are arriving and about to attach the coaches and that our coach doors will remain locked for a few minutes during that process. He helpfully announces that "The coach doors will be locked during the process...Please DO NOT panic! We WILL unlock them shortly!" 

Most everyone in my coach is sleeping but awakens to hear..."Please DO NOT panic!"

And so we continue...

 
                               

A train trip across England sounded like a good idea and in fact, it was. The city gives way to the countryside, the countryside gives way to the seaside and then slowly you start to see words that look like Czzzykjc and Llyyffcz and you realize you are in Wales.

It's not fair to judge a country by traveling at 80 mph along RR tracks, but I think I'd like to take a slower look at Wales some day. Especially the Llandudno Junction/Conwy/Bangor area near the Irish Sea. (I guess nearly every part of Wales is near the Irish Sea.)

Some day.

                           

How's this for convenience. The rail line stops at Holyhead (pronounced Holly-head for those of us in the know.) It's obvious that the rail line terminates. There is a barrier. Get out of the train...walk a hundred yards along the track.

                     

Show someone a ticket for Ireland...have that someone tell you that you were supposed to take the 2:40 A.M. (!!) ship to Ireland.....not the 2:40 (14:40) P.M. (!!) sailing....(who on God's earth sails from Holyhead to Dublin at 2:40 in the morning?!).....Have that person apologize to YOU for YOUR mistake....have that person apologize for an additional $11 for that afternoon ticket.....hand your luggage over for safe keeping.....board a convenient bus outside the door....have a couple stagger onto the bus .....watch the woman throw-up....stagger off the bus....stagger back on the bus and proceed to lie on the seat.....ride along on the bus through the port to the rather large and actually quite luxurious Irish Ferry.
  
                        

And you say good-bye to Wales as you sit on deck 8 behind the Cinema lounge by oneself and watch the coast recede. 

The ferry had a great number of lounges with a seemingly endless array of men stretched out on the couches wearing hoodies and sleeping. No romantic sea cruises for these guys...it was...board the ferry....hit the couches....sleep until Ireland appeared on the horizon. (I took note that the sick woman in Wales remained sick across the Irish Sea as she found a couch on which to sleep the entire time...I wish her well.)

                         

My first encounter with an Irishman in Ireland was the cabdriver named McNally. His accent reminded me of every American's idea of an Irish politician or Irish Cop or Irish Priest in a Hollywood movie. In other words....he had an Irish accent (to my ears).

                          

He told me about the big traffic tie-up yesterday and about his daughter's marriage and about the weather and he said things like "a fine kettle of fish" and "Glory be!" And he talked about truckers and roundabouts and Irish Football and the best things to do in Dublin and the best places to eat and to shop.

      

And that was just while he was putting my bag in the trunk (boot) of his cab.

                    

I located my AirBnB ....by going around to the side to the black gate....submitting a code to the keypad....unlatching the iron gate (that would do Alcatraz proud)....locating another numbered keypad on the left side of the courtyard...pulling down the lever.....entering another number and retracting my apartment key.

                  

The nuclear launch codes are simple in comparison, but I got in....felt secure...and wondered if it was as complex to get out......

               

Here is my neighborhood. Nothing to write home about....though obviously I will....across the street is the Legit Coffee Company and I figured I could conveniently catch a latte early in the morning. But.....they don't open until 10. 10 for a cafe?  That's like Waffle House opening only in the evenings. Next door is a business named "The Glamour Pit"....which I am hoping is just a hair dressers place....though I could be mistaken.

               

You can't go wrong in an Irish neighborhood with a Pub that has a Beatles poster in the window and a name like Baker's Pub. And I had chosen well.

                            

First meal in Ireland....."Homemade Irish Pub Lasagna." Actually quite good! A couple of blocks away is the Guinness Brewery and I figured I would help out this small Irish brewery that is struggling to make a name for itself...so I had a pint with my dinner.

                
The shops around here, save for the Pubs, tend to close up early and they all seem to have iron gates with which they cover their shop windows and doors....though the amount of foot traffic was encouraging....kids on bikes....teens laughing.....sirens and police cars wailing.....but I rather liked it. I'll see what it is like in daylight.

                             
I've got a ticket for the Book of Kells over at Trinity College at 10:30 am....I am hoping It was not for 10:30 pm last night.....and the Gelato gal down the street with purple hair (no doubt done at the Glamour Pit across the street).....was friendly and said that Trinity College was but a 15 minute walk away.

                       

I'd like to think that Dublin is in transition....or at least my neighborhood is....or this building is.....for this (above) is the view out my bedroom window. It's not the Hilton....but then the Hilton doesn't have the Glamour Pit nearby like I do.

                    

I like Ireland already.

Peace,    Bob



















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