The first few days .......

DAY 3-August 5th

We awoke to rain pounding down on the slate patio and with fog encroaching into the area. A large, ring-necked bird was perched on the fence and didn’t seem at all bothered by being wet. We decided that a stroll on the beach was out and that an “inside” day was in, so it was off to Waterford, with our objective being the Waterford Crystal Factory – but first, a stop and pull-over by the Garda for a road tax violation …… the very pleasant officer advised that the rental company hadn’t renewed the road tax decal (approximately 500 Euro/year) and had let it lapse since May, which, if he was inclined to go by the letter of the law, meant that he could immediately, without any consideration, seize the vehicle. He was very cognizant of the fact that it was a rental vehicle, that we were tourists, and that while it would punish the company, it would probably result in greater inconvenience to us and advised that we should ensure that we discuss the matter with the agency and that he (for his part – on a limited basis) would be sending the company a ticket (approximately 80 Euro). We entered Waterford and rather than our very first stop being Waterford Crystal, it was the Enterprise Agent to attempt to deal with the matter making arrangements to EITHER have a decal OR a replacement vehicle delivered to us the next day. After that, it was off to the Waterford Crystal Factory tour and, following that, the unreasonable desire to impulse purchase ………. something ……….. anything ……….. it all sparkled and I like sparkly things ………… I mulled over ornaments, baubles, ridiculously large chandeliers, tumblers, champagne and wine glasses ……… and finally, Irish Coffee glasses – not that I’ve ever even made Irish Coffee, much less drank it from crystal stemware ………… and not that I will at any time in the near future. George, the “Voice of Reason” pointed out the pluses (pretty, sparkly things) and minuses (he doesn’t even drink coffee ….) and I soon enough was able to walk away without plunking down a day’s salary for Irish Coffee glasses I would (almost certainly) lock straight up into the china cabinet to be admired through the glass. While George and I made it through the three level gift shop unburdened by crystal purchases, we can’t say the same for mother. We found an interesting restaurant was we wanted to have dinner in, but we needed to kill a couple of hours before they opened, so we went in search of "T&H Doolan" a pub that had part of the original stone wall of the city as part of their building. Directions and construction again became the bane of our existence while we searched for the place ....... eventually finding it and having a pint of Bulmer's (me) and pint of Guinness (mom). George stopped at an internet cafe along the way to get his fix, and then joined us some time later. Mom asked the bartender for a Guinness glass and while he felt that, due to his small supply of same, he couldn't give her one of those, he did give her a Smithfields. We left and made our way to FitzGerald’s, Waterford, where we had a very nice dinner and mom got a tip from the waiter, who advised her that rather than ask if she could have a Guinness or Smithfield’s (or whatever) glass, that she should just take them ………. apparently his father has a lovely collection ............ one might consider that petty larceny, but, perhaps Ireland no longer sends people to Australia for such things …… particularly given the price of fuel ..........


DAY 2 – August 4th

Our arrival in Dublin introduced us to a crush of travellers that appeared to have all converged on the airport at the same time, reminiscent of one of our earlier trips and our experience of London Heathrow (an airport I will avoid if at all possible). We were herded into lines and started the seemingly endless movement forward a couple of feet at a time, wanting not much more than the opportunity to find a spot to just sleep for a few hours. We finally managed to make it through the lines, find mother, call for our shuttle and arrive at the Enterprise location to pick up our vehicle (which wasn’t exactly what we thought it would be). The drive from Dublin to Rosslare was at times rainy, at times lovely, and, at times, frustrating with our GPS not recognizing new roadway construction (of which there is plenty throughout, so far, Southern Ireland at any rate) and with signage not being exactly …. well ….. exact. We wound our way through the Wicklow Mountains and were glad of taking a slower route as it allowed us to take in the beauty of the mountains and small farms along the way. Our goal at the end of this rather circuitous route was “Glendalough”. Unfortunately, the prize at the end was a very congested, heavily tourist-laden area, with buses and passenger vehicles jockeying for space – not only on the roadway surrounding, but also the entrance and exits and the parking lots. I’m not a good tourist I’m afraid - as the idea of driving around and around a parking lot hoping for a space in order to see an attraction whilst jostling with other humans would surely only serve to further aggravate, was not at all palatable. Thank God neither my husband nor my mother were THAT desperate to walk and see Glendalough with a few hundred other travellers. Onward to Avoca – another horrendously busy place and then, after pulling over to allow George to close his eyes and nap for 20 minutes or so (as the alternative wasn’t a good one), our final destination of Rosslare. We met friends of our home exchange partners at Kelly’s Hotel, had a cup of tea and then went on to our home away from home for the next few days, choosing our bedrooms, having showers, and getting to familiarize ourselves with our well-needed beds in short order. Well, except that is, except mother, who decided she needed a walk and ended up strolling along until the first restaurant she came across, and then having a full dinner before returning to the house ……………. I vaguely remember the sound of someone coming into the house, but not actually caring who or why, just grateful that they didn’t make too much noise ………..

DAY 1 - DEPARTURE DAY - August 3rd

We had a leisurely start to the day ….. at least that’s what the possibilities held …. The fact that I woke up at 4:30 a.m. didn’t destroy that …. only altered it, ever so slightly. I considered the various options open to me and flip flopped a few times until I settled back down to try and get some sleep before our trip began, as I doubted I would manage any sleep for at least the next 24-30 hours. At 6:30 a.m. I gave it up, but was aware that at some point in the two hours previous I had napped. While George slumbered on, I got up and went to the barn saying a goodbye to the various creatures who greeted me with little more than their breakfast on their minds. On my return to the house at 9:00 a.m. after chores and pats, brushes, cuddles, and playing fetch, the aroma of frying back bacon signalled the true start to the day and the cessation of any lingering connection to my home and animals that I was about to leave for the month. Breakfast and last minute preparations filled the remainder of the morning until our erstwhile friend, Venus, picked us up – right on time – for the short drive to the airport. A quick hug goodbye and we began what was to consume our time for the next day – travelling – the least favourite part of any trip and the loss of sleep, inconvenience and discomfort that goes with travelling through international time zones. While the flight from Nanaimo to Vancouver was uneventful, the departure of our flight from Vancouver to Dublin was delayed – only adding onto what was already going to be a long flight. Once in the air, the crew was friendly, but professional, dealing swiftly and quietly with the various requirements of the flight. As I had thought, neither of us were able to sleep and as we passed from daylight, through night, back into daylight all within eight and one-half hours, pure and utter exhaustion began to seep into our bodies, numbing our minds and burning our eyes.