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National Museum of Ireland, Dublin

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Somewhat wet and miserable day in Dublin… what to do, what to do? Find the National museum of course. Took a couple of Ubers via the First Chapter coffee shop, to avoid the cold and wet – worth it!

Wow! What an amazing building! The entry/vestibule is so impressive with its gorgeous domed ceiling and beautiful mosaiced floor. I do wish England/Ireland hadn’t embraced this trend for forgoing cloakrooms and/or lockers though. What a pain in the arse to have to carry your coat, scarf and outer layers for a couple of hours through a museum. :/ Europe is still insisting you cloak your shit – anything bigger than a handbag – into a locker it goes, I much prefer it tbh.

Most of the descriptions here are literally copied and pasted from the object’s description plaques, hence the lack of form guide in listing dates, and the weird capitalisation. I could re-type it all, but when you’re travelling and writing on an iPad, time is limited!

Bronze bells, St Mary’s Abbey, Howth, Co. Dublin. Late medieval period.

DECORATED STONE, Youghal, Co. Cork. 2500-1700 В.С.

A necklace of gold beads
Perhaps the most mysterious of all the gold ornaments of the Late Bronze Age are the hollow gold beads found at Tumna, Co. Roscommon in 1834. Eleven beads are said to have been found when a group of men were tilling land near Tumna church beside the Shannon River. Each bead is made in two sections which are fused together. They are perforated which suggests that they were intended to be strung together. The graduated size of the beads also suggests a necklace of massive size. After the discovery the beads were divided amongst various collectors. Gradually over a period of about 150 years nine of the original eleven were acquired by the Royal Irish Academy and the National Museum of Ireland, one is in the collections of the British Museum but the whereabouts of the one remaining bead are unknown.

HOARD CONTAINING A GOLD BRACELET, A GOLD DRESS FASTENER, TWO BRONZE RINGS AND AN AMBER NECKLACE. Meenwaun, [Banagher], Co. Offaly. c. 800-700 B.C.

GOLD AND AMBER BEADS. Cruttenclough, Co. Kilkenny. Later Bronze Age

Part of a hoard of gold ornaments consisting of collars, bracelets, two neck rings, and a double ring.
Mooghaun North, Co. Clare. с. 800-700 В.С.

14. Amber bead. Unknown locality. 900-500BC
Amber Nekclaces C. Cavan. 900-500BC

Bronze chain-link collar. Near O’Connor’s Castle, Co.Rosecommon. c900-500BC.

Collection of swords, Dowris Hoard. Doors sheath, Co.Offaly, c.900-500BC

Selection of horns and other objects of the Dowris Hoard. Doorosheath, Co. Offaly, 900-500BC.

Enamelled bronze belt buckles, Louth Gara, Co. Sligo. Late 7th-early 8thC AD

Penannular bronze brooch, Arthurstown, Co. Kildare, 6th-7thC AD.

Bronze mount with enamel and millefiori, Big Island Lugacaha, Co. Westmeath 6-7thC AD.

Bronze fibula with enamel insets Lough Ree, Co. Longford, 1stC AD.

Enamelled bronze mount, Coolure Demesne, Co. Westmeath, 7th-8thC AD.

Gilt bronze harness mounts, Athlumney Navan, Co. Meath, 8-9thC AD.

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Ogham script is the earliest form of writing known in Ireland.
It is a system of linear symbols cut on either side of, or across, a baseline. Ogham is modelled on the Roman alphabet and consists of 20 letters. The key to ogham script is recorded in the Book of Ballymote, a later medieval text. More than 300 inscriptions survive on stone. They are particularly common in the southwest of Ireland and date to between the 4th and 6th centuries AD. Ogham stones surviving in parts of England, Scotland and Wales are a testament to Irish presence in these areas. The majority of inscriptions record personal names and can be considered commemorative inscriptions or perhaps boundary markers.

The Cross of Cong is one of the greatest treasures of the era. It was made to enshrine a portion of the True Cross acquired in AD 1122 by Toirrdelbach Ua Conchobair, High King of Ireland. An inscription records the names of Ua Conchobair, two high-ranking clerics and the craftsmen who made it.
The cross is made of oak covered with plain sheets of bronze. Panels decorated with animal interlace overlay these plain sheets. The relic, now missing, would have been visible behind the rock crystal at the centre of the cross-arms. A staff could be inserted at the base to enable the cross to be carried in procession. The shape of the cross-arms recalls the Tully Lough Cross, made almost four centuries earlier, but the decoration is in the late Scandinavian Urnes style. The glass and enamel studs are characteristic of Irish Romanesque metalwork.

The llth and 12th centuries witnessed the production of a large number of highly decorated religious objects. Croziers, which were used by abbots and bishops, are the commonest type of church metalwork from this period, but enshrined bells and books also survive. These items were symbols of power and authority. Inscriptions on some of these treasures name royal patrons and important churchmen and suggest that the commissioning of such objects was as much a political statement as it was a religious act. Political power in 12th-century Ireland was held by a small number of provincial kings who were generous patrons of the Church. A major reform of the Irish church at this time shifted power from the monasteries to bishops who controlled dioceses. Rivalries ensued as competing groups attempted to lay claim to these new centres of power. The production of ornate church treasures inscribed with the names of key political figures can be seen as a reflex of these power struggles.

Shrine of St. Lachtin’s Arm. Donaghmore, Co. Cork, c. AD 1120.

Saint Patrick’s Bell and Shrine, Armagh Co. Armagh, 6th-8th century AD and AD 1100.

Silver chalice, Reerasta, Ardagh, Co. Limerick, 8th century

Tomb shaped shrine, River Shannon, 8-9thC AD

The Golden Age of Irish Art.
Metal artefacts of the period show unparalleled skill and artistry. Ornamentation
on metal, on stone and on illuminated manuscripts shows close links in style and symbolism. Contacts with Pictish Scotland, Anglo-Saxon England, Germanic Europe and the Mediterranean region exposed Irish craftsmen to new metalworking techniques and art styles. Irish craftsmen blended these styles with native late Celtic ornament to produce a distinctive new style. The greatest artistic achievements of the new style date to between the late 7th and the early 9th centuries, a period often described as the Golden Age of early Irish art. The Church was a major patron of the arts and it enjoyed the support of important political families. Secular artefacts, such as the Tara brooch, also survive.

The Tara Brooch, Bettystown, Co. Meath, 8th century AD

Silver paten and bronze stand, Derrynaflan, Co. Tipperary, 8th century AD

Gold ribbon torc, near Belfast, Co. Antrim, 3rdC BC to 3rdC AD.

The Broighter Hoard
The hoard of gold objects from Broighter, Co. Derry, is the most exceptional find of Iron Age metalwork in Ireland. The tubular collar, miniature boat and cauldron, two neck chains and pair of twisted collars (torcs), which date to the Ist century BC, were found on the ancient shore of Lough Foyle in Co. Derry. The sea god Manannán mac Lir was associated with Lough Foyle and the place-name Broighter (from the Irish Brú lochtair) may be a reference to his underwater residence. Most notable is the model gold boat with its mast, rowing benches, oars and other fittings that can be regarded as an appropriate offering to a sea god. The decoration on the tubular collar appears to include a highly stylised horse, an animal that is especially associated with Manannán mac Lir.

DECORATED LEATHER BOTTLE, Found feet deep in bog, Cloonclose, Co. Leitrim, Early Medieval.

Replica of Gokstad Faering
The battle of Clontarf was fought on the shores of Dublin Bay and a fleet of Viking ships played a significant part. This boat is a replica of one found in 1880 in a burial mound at Gokstad, Norway, where a Norse lord had been buried in a great Viking ship dating to c. 900AD. Accompanying the ship was a smaller fishing boat, crewed by two oarsmen, known as a faering, which is in many respects a miniature Viking ship. It shares many of the same features and techniques – such as the clinker-built oak planking and the side rudder.

The Dunmore Cave hoard – This hoard was hidden in Dunmore Cave around 965-70.
The most interesting objects are sixteen hollow cones, woven from fine silver wire in three sizes. They were probably connected to a knitted fringe of exceptionally delicate coiled silver wire. The fringe, in turn, was probably attached to an imported silk cloth, of which a tiny fragment survived. There is also a decorated buckle and matching strap-end, whose form and decoration suggests that they were made in Dublin and this may also be true for the silver cones.

Skave Chain, Near Strokestown, Co. Rosecommon.
This fearsome chain and collar for a slave or hostage was found in Dublin and may possibly have been made there. It was found mid19-thC possibly on a crannog.

The shrine of the ‘Stowe Missal’, c.1030
This shrine held an 8th-century mass-book for the monastery of Lorrha. An inscription on the base requests prayers for the ‘king of Ireland, Donnchad, son of Brian and Gormlaith. Donnchad reigned for many years after Clontarf but was never generally recognised as king of Ireland. Lorrha, Co. Tipperary.

9th Century Viking cemeteries at Kalmainham and Irelandbridge, Dublin.
The Vikings in Ireland as elsewhere in Europe were not Christianised until the late 10thC. Their burial customs were pagan and the wealthiest were buried with their person: possessions. The cemeteries associated with the earliest, 9thC, Viking settlement at Dublin were located on a ridge overlooking the Liffey in the area now occupied by the modern suburbs of Kilmainham and Islandbridge. One of these cemeteries was located on the site of an earlier Irish monastery at Kilmainham. It is believed that the first Viking fortified encampment at Dublin, established in 841, may have been located nearby.
Most of the objects were recovered in the course of grave digging and in the building of the railway line in the 1840s, 50s and 60s. The presence of weapons, tools and brooches among the finds indicate that both men and women were buried there. The finds recovered represent at least fifty burials, and it is the largest known Viking cemetery outside

Eight iron swords, 10th-11thC.

Copper alloy buckles, belt ends and pins. 9thC.

Roasting spit? 9thC

Three pairs of copper alloy brooches with strings of glass beads.
Oval brooches are typical finds in women’s graves of the Viking Age and indicate that women of importance were also buried there. Spinning and weaving were tasks carried out by women and objects such as the whalebone ‘ironing board’, spindle whorls and bronze needle case are further evidence of female burials. The presence of a number of folding weighing scales, purses and weights indicates that some of the Viking settlers in ninth century Dublin were merchants while the iron tongs and hammers suggest the presence of smiths. Some of the brooches and pins from these burials are of Irish manufacture and indicate that the Vikings of Dublin, as elsewhere, adopted Irish fashions of jewellery and, perhaps dress.

Copper alloy balance scales, 9thC AD. With lead alloy weights.

One pair of Oval brooches, Finglas, Co. Dublin.

Museum replicas of Irish viking costumes.

Pair of copper alloy oval brooches and chain from a burial ot Arklow, Co. Wicklow. The chain is curiously Baltic in origin, it is possible the wearer may have been gifted the chain to wear with the locally made brooches, or herself came from that region.

Silver sword fitting – no known locality.

Ballinderry Crannog, Co. Westneath, c850-1000
The crannog, or artificial lake dwelling at Ballinderry, excavated in 1932, provides the most complete picture of life in a rural settlement between the late 9th and early 11th centuries. Its size and the variety and richness of the objects found suggest that it was the homestead of a prosperous farmer or a local king. The fields and pasture lands were probably located on nearby dry land, reached by hollowed oak longboats or canoes.

Wooden stave-built bucket, c.850-1000 AD.

Wooden gaming board, c.850-1000AD

Leather shoe, Carrigallen, Co. Leitrim, c.9-10thC.

16 SILVER ARM-RINGS – These arm-rings, made of thick bars of silver, are decorated with a variety of stamped patterns. They were current between the late 9th and early 10th centuries and over sixty examples are known from Ireland. They were manufactured in Ireland, probably in the Viking settlements and some have been found in hoards in Scotland, England and Norway.

GOLD ARM-RING – This simple but massive arm-ring, made of three twisted rods of gold, is the largest surviving Viking Age gold ornament from Ireland, weighing 375 g. The heaviest gold hoard from the Viking Age was also found in Ireland at Hare Island, Lough Ree in 1802 and consisted of ten gold arm-rings weighing approximately 5kg. Unfortunately, that hoard was melted down shortly after its discovery.

7 – silver ring ingot, part of a hoard from Derrynahich, Co. Kilkenny.
8 – silver brooch with gold filigree, Mohill, Co. Leitrim.
9 – Ring of silver penannular brooch in two pieces – location unknown.
10 – Head of silver kite brooch – location unknown.
11 – head of a silver thistle brooch – location unknown.
12 – Two silver rod arm-ring fragments, – location unknown.

WOODEN BUCKETS, Cloonarragh, Co. Roscommon, 10th-11 th century
Found together with a third, stave-built vessel in a bog. The stave-built vessel shown here is secured by a pair of wooden hoops, the other vessel is carved from a single block.

WOODEN BOWL, Cuillard, Co. Roscommon, 8th- 9th century, The bowl contained butter when it was discovered, indicating that the storage of butter in bogs was one way of keeping surplus food.

Inlaid glass beads, Clough Co. Antrim, Tristernagh. Glass bracelets and strings, c.8-9thC

Four lead alloy disc brooches, High St, Christchurch Place, Winetavern, c.8-9thC

Copper alloy buckles, belt and strap ends, High St, Winetavern, c.8th-9thC

Model of a typical Viking settlement in Ireland, c.8th-9thC

DUBLIN – Amber, glass, jet and Lignite.
Amber was brought to Dublin in lumps probably having been collected along the shores of the Baltic Sea, mainly in Denmark. These lumps were converted to beads, pendants, earrings and finger rings. An amber worker’s house was identified at Fishamble Street where the floor was strewn with several hundred waste flakes and tiny spicules. Jet was probably brought from Yorkshire, and was used mainly in the production of bracelets, finger rings and earrings. It too appears to been worked in Dublin as was glass, possibly from imported pieces of old Roman glass.

Amber pendants, finger rings, unfinished amber beads, necklaces beads and fragments. Fishamble St, c.8-9thC.

Glass beads, discs and spindles. Some unfinished. Fishamble St. c.8-9thC.
It is likely that some glass beads were made locally from pieces of broken glass imported from old Roman towns in England, such as Chester and York.

Antler and bone were used for knife handles, gaming pieces, buckles, and as panels for boxes. Bone was used for spindle whorls, spindles and weaving tablets. Whale bone was used for clamps or hand-vices as well as for caulking spatulas. Walrus tusk were also used for gaming pieces and pendants.

Decorated bone and antler plaques, and antler combs, Christchurch Place, Fishamble St. c.8-9thC.

Decorated antler strap ends. High St, Fishamble St.

Motif pieces, antler and bone. High St, Fishamble St. c.8-9thC

Weapons and Luxury Goods – 11th to 12th Centuries. Weapons, tableware and sets of gaming pieces were among the most prized possessions of kings and nobles in the early medieval period. Most of our knowledge of weapons from the later Viking Age comes from stray finds of objects lost in rivers and lakes. Shallow drinking bowls of copper alloy and silver were imported from the Continent. In some cases these imported bowls were adapted to Irish taste by the addition of enamelled hooks of local manufacture. Gaming boards and gaming pieces are known from the tenth century onwards. The game of chess, however, was not introduced to Europe from the Islamic world until some time in the eleventh century.

Copper alloy sword pommels, gilt copper alloy swords, Iron swords, locations unknown.
Iron axe head with wooden handle, River Robe, Ballinrobe, Co.Mayo. C11th.

Bronze bells, Donoghmore, Co Tyrone. 11-15thC

MANCHAN’S SHRINE (REPLICA), Lemanaghan, Co. Offaly, 12thC
The original shrine, made to contain the bones of St Manchan, was most likely produced by the same individual that produced the Cross of Cong. Its ornament, known as the Hiberno-Urnes style, is a blending of a late Viking art style with native Irish art. This nineteenth-century replica, which is a restored version of the original; made by Alexander Carte for Dr John Lentaigne.

Inscribed Grave Marker, Clonmacnoise, Co, Offaly. 9th-10thC.
One of several hundred memorial slabs from the cemetery of Clonmacnoise. It bears the name ‘Sechnasach’ along with a cross and some geometric ornament. It is unusual in that it is made from a reused mill or quern.

Shring, copper alloy, gilt and enamelled, early 11th C. Drum lane, Co, Cavan.

Leather satchel, 15th C, Drumlane Co. Cavan – to house the shrine.

Knight Jug. Wine jug decorated with figures of armoured knights and monkeys. It was imported from pottery kilns at Ham Green, near Bristol. Pottery, 13thC. Found High St, Dublin.

Wooden, two to four handed mether tankards. Carved from single pieces of alder, c.14thC. Co. Donegal.

Various precious and semi precious jewelled items.

Gilt silver cross pendant, c.1500. Provence not listed.

Gold finger ring, c.14thC. Provenance not listed.

Knitted cap, 16thC AD. Ballybunnion, Co. Kerry.
This knitted wooden cap was found in Co. Kerry in 1847. This style of cap was fashioned up to the 1580s and made from expensive materials. Often decorated with jewels and feathers. Traditional records that when it was found, the cap had a gold band around the crown.

Often overlooked, I love that the building this collection is housed in is somewhat of a work of art itself.

Bronze laver, believed to be Flemish, c.1425.

Cross Pendant, obverse is engraved with an image of the Crucifixion and symbols of four Evangelists.
Silver gilt with glass and garnet settings, c.1500. Near Callan Co. Kilkenny.

Rock crystal with silver mounting, 15thC.

Reliquary Cross, T-shapedor Tau cross indicates it was designed to protect the wearer from disease known as St Anthony’s Fire, whose symptoms included burning sensations. Contains a cavity to hold a reliquary. Gilt silver, c.1500.

Seal ring with a central image of a human figure inside the doorway to a turret castle. Flanked by engraved images of the Virgin and Child and Holy Trinity. Gold, 15thC, Girley, Co.Mealth.

Shrine of the Cathach. Made to contain a 7thC manuscript believed to be written by Columba himself. The Cathach (battler) was one of the chief treasures of the O’Donnells throughout the Middle Ages. They carried it into battle to bring good luck. IT’s keeepers were the Magroarty family, one of whom was killed when the shrine was captured in 1497. Wood with gilt silver, silver fittings, rock crystal. Late 11th-14thC, Ballynagroarty, Co. Donegal.

Shrine of Patrick’s Trail. This is a complex piece made up of portions of different objects. It’s a purse shaped form dates to the mid-14thC when it was covered at the request of Thomas Birmingham, Lord of Athenry. The shrine was used in the early 19thC for curing sick animals. St John, the Virgin Mary and figures of Irish Saints flank the figure of Christ on the front.

Bell, copper alloy, silver inlay. 11th-12thC. Scattery Island, Co.Clare.

Overall, this musuem on Kildare Street was well worth a visit. It has some fabulously obscure objects – though I did find the curation had more of a focus on *where* something was found rather then where is was created/made. Sometimes that info was a bit buried under the lead.

Belfast and Giants Causeway

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I’ve wanted to come to Belfast and in particular go up to Giant’s Causeway since 1995. Only on that trip to the UK, we couldnt’.  Myself, BigSal and BluddyMary had hired a car to drive around the UK for 6 weeks – extremely decadent, and only possible due to a corker of a British Airways deal that BigSal had found us; our BNE to LHR flights came with a free side trip to a number of European capitals and 7 days free car hire. Per person!  Else, I’m not sure we could have afforded to hire a car for such a long period of time in our early 20s.  There were, sadly, two restrictions on the whole travelling by rental car thing… 1) I was the only driver because the other two didn’t have their damn licenses! and, 2)  we couldn’t take the rental car into Northern Ireland because of The Troubles.  Having no desire to be blown up, bailed up or held up, and also being somewhat law abiding and risk adverse (we would not be insured if we did), we sensibly stayed away.  Anyway, it’s been on my list ever since.  Only 30 years in the waiting to get here… fucking puffins still on the list – but that is another story! 

I found us a day trip from Dublin to see the Causeway and Belfast, (primarily to see the Titanic Museum), and while it promised to be a long day, I was hoping for a good guide so it would prove to be an informative and if we were lucky, entertaining.  Happily, we had an amazing guide named, Quiggs.  Quiggs was quick-witted, interesting, and stuffed full of interesting cultural and historical tidbits.

On the drive out of Dublin, we learned all about Irish oral story telling and musical traditions, and had a quick lesson in Irish language!  Quiggs was raised speaking Irish and is one of only 2% of Irish people who are fluent in Irish… the Irish language is seeing a resurgence in recent years thanks to the promotion and sponsoring of Irish language programs in schools.  It’s great to see them fostering their language before it is lost.  Quiggs also spoke English (with a university level proficiency) and some French and German – which came in handy as we had people on our tour from France, Italy, Germany, Greece, Turkey, the US and all over.  He set the tone early by laying down the law… he was not going to suffer lolllygaggers and threatened to make any late comers sing if they returned to the bus even one minute late and held up the entire group!  I loved it!  Great idea… more guides should rule their pax’s with the threat of public ridicule, I say.

Quiggs was particularly passionate about sharing his interest in Irish language, he told us all about how Irish speaking Catholics were subjugated and disenfranchised.  Literally kids were beat at school for speaking Irish at school, those that were fortunate enough to attend school, that is.  The children would be given a card to wear around their neck, and every time they were heard to be speaking in Irish, they would get a knot tied in their cord, which resulting in a numbered beating at the end of their school day. 

Beating The English Language Into The Irish, Quite Literally

At one point in the English attempts to quash Irishness, educating Catholics was made illegal entirely and Hedge Schools emerged – as the name suggests, primary aged children were taught informally in the hedgerows.

The plan of course was to destroy Irish identity – it was banned in business, banned in parliament, in legal circles and in courts of laws. To the point where the Irish speaking Catholics were literally unable to defend themselves if accused of a crime.  They would be put on trial, in English, and unable to explain or defend their actions in English, it led to a many wrongful convictions and even wrongful deaths.   In order to maintain this status quo, Catholics were disenfranchised by minimising their voting power.  Good Catholic families would breed prolifically, so outnumbered their Protestant counterparts quite considerably, so in order to suppress their voting power, they legislated that voting was connected to property ownership – one property, one vote.  Thus ten adult Catholics living in one home only got one vote.  One wealthy Protestant who owned multiple properties managed to get as many votes as properties he owned! 

As we neared the border to Northern Ireland, Quiggs told us stories of The Troubles… personal accounts of incidents that happened to his grandfather, his mother and his father – they all had stories of tense face offs with border guards.  His mother nearly got herself shot to pieces going across over the border in the wee hours of the night, when she fell asleep behind the wheel due to extreme fatigue and nearly drove into the guard house.  She apparently woke herself at the last moment and slammed on the bakes; the guards were all standing, pointing at her with their firearms and yelling at her to get out of the car.  It sounds like his poor Mam went into shock, and when the soldiers realised what had happened they took her inside, gave her coffee to wake her up and let her stop shaking before sending her on her way.  His father’s run in-was somewhat more of a ‘fuck you’ student protest type interaction, where he was refusing to provide identification when trying to cross the border.  All up, it sounded scary, tense and totally understandable that Hertz wouldn’t let us take our car into Northern Ireland in 1995!

We learned how political prisoners were treated by the English, and how they protested from their positions of incarceration – work strikes, ‘dirty strikes (refusal to use the toilets because they frequently got beaten for leaving their cells alone – so they took to pissing on the floors of their cells and smearing their shit all over the place), to hunger strikes.  All of which didn’t move the English govt at all.  Eventually the IRA decided to start trying to take over by electing members of their people to parliament and even elected people who were imprisoned, who naturally couldn’t take up their roles.

I’m going to have to do some more reading into how the current peace was reached, but in many ways, Quiggs was painting a situation that conveyed that even though the hard border is gone and most people want to co-exist in peace, there is still a lot of tension between the Irish Catholic part of the country and the Protestant northerners.  The police stations and court houses still have 12’ tall, 3’ wide thick concrete wall around them, and the memory of frequent bombings at the Europa Hotel (The most bombed hotel in the world apparently… the IRA had a habit of setting off bombs in the hotel, as it’s location made it a prime spot for the world’s journalists to stay when they were covering the tensions, so when they wanted a bit of attention, a small bomb at the hotel would wake them up. Literally.) are still very recent.  Quiggs says it wouldn’t take much to set the violence off all over again.

Belfast looks much like Dublin… though slightly fewer visible pubs perhaps?  The name Belfast comes from the Irish words for ‘fast river’… which is neither here nor there at this point in this post. But there you have it.

We passed through Belfast and picked up some pax on our way north to the Giant’s Causeway. On the way we stopped at Dunluce Caste – or rather, what remains of it. Dunluce Castle is a ruin of a medieval castle in Northern Ireland and was/is (?) the seat of the Clan MacDonnel. It hangs out on the edge of a basalt outcrop in County Antrim and is only accessible by a bridge that connects it to the mainland. It is surrounded by incredibly steep slopes on either side and this was probably what made it so defensible for the early Christians when the Vikings were coming to invade. It’s been there for a solid 500 years, and was most recently made famous by being used as a film set in Game of Thrones to represent the Pyke Islands or something, which is where Castle Greyjoy is fantastically located.

Quiggs, himself.

So on the way out to the Causeway, Quiggs gave us a very Google-able explanation for the rock formations at Giant’s Causeway, but continued on to say that “That is all bollocks.”. Because, the real formation, as legend has it, was due to Northern Irelandw once being home to a giant named Finn McCool (also called Fionn Mac Cumhaill). At that time, there was another giant – Benandonner, across the Irish Sea in Scotland who was threatening Ireland, such that Finn retaliated by tearing up great chunks of the Antrim coastline and hurling them into the sea. The newly-created pathway – the Giant’s Causeway – paved an accessible route over the sea for Finn to reach Benandonner.

However, this turned out to be a bad idea as Benandonner is a massive giant, much bigger than Finn was! So, upon realising this, in order to save himself, Finn retreated to Ireland and disguised himself as a baby, thanks to an idea from his quick-thinking wife. When Benandonner arrives, he sees Finn disguised as a baby and realises that if a mere baby is that big, the father must be far larger than Benandonner himself!

Following this realisation, Benandonner rushes back to Scotland, tearing away as much of the Causeway as he can in his haste to put as much distance between Ireland and himself as possible. And thus, the myth of the Giant’s Causeway was born.

It was great fun rock-hopping around on the basalt at Giant’s Causeway – can’t say my new knee was super appreciative of it though… that or the cold is getting to it, which would be a bitch if it hangs around long term!

Ms Stephola doing her best interpretation of a siren…

Face in the rock face.

The Giant’s Gateway

Giant’s Causeway is a gorgeous area to explore. It was however, rather cold and while thankfully not raining, very windy and cold. They run a neat little electric bus shuttle up and down to the rocks (quiet and unobtrusive, good job) for the grand cost of £1 per person each way. So we availed ourselves of that service to get back to the quaint little pub near our pick up spot – called, would you believe it, “The Nook”..!

On a cold day like today – all I ever want is a cup of port. Sadly, had to settle for a polite glass of port instead.

One of the pax from our bus did the right thing – ordered himself a whiskey with an ‘e’, and a Guinness chaser.

Next stop on our little tour was to a look out point to see the suspension bridge that links this strange wee island to the mainland. And off in the other direction is a headland that was also used in Game of Thrones as ‘Dragonstone’… nope, I have no recollection of Dragonstone at all.

More brief Game of Thrones stops – this time the “Dark Hedges” which Arya is chased by someone through a foreboding looking forest. This was a disappointing stop – not because there has been a huge reduction in the amount of trees lining this avenue, because there has been; but because of the sheer amount of rubbish people have left laying around this area. Gotta say, if it’s a damn tourist spot you want and we are literally stopping by to admire the Nature (TM), you might want to provide more bins or invest in some people to clean up.

This is a Robin Redbreast – obviously – first one I have ever seen. He was super tame and let me take a handful of close photos of him before I accidentally startled him.

After that it was back to Belfast to drop some people to the city centre, while the rest of us went to the Titanic Museum… and what a cool building that turned out to be! The architect here really understood the brief. It’s as though the famously egotistical Bruce Ismay was in charge of the design of the Musuem “I wanted to convey sheer size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength.”. The building is enormous, and starkly sits out beside the dockyards conveying exactly that – size, scale, general hugeness!

The displays inside were a bit too Disney-fied for my liking… by that I mean, I am getting sick and tired of museums that want to create an ‘experience’ to spoon feed the history to the unwilling. I saw it at Ghent Cathedral with their godawful virtual reality tour of the crypts; same with the over stimulating and confusing audio narrative at the museum for the Battle of the Bulge at Bourgogne which was so over the top, it prohibited visitors from reading ANY of the information plaques, and we see it again here with the over videos and 3D experiences and interactive exhibits. I get it! The internet age has seen people’s attention span shrink to that of a hyperactive goldfish – but there has to be some spaces left in-Hollywood’ed where solemn information can be absorbed in a mature and academic manner… doesn’t there?

Perfect example – this exhibit was about the designs and plans for the ship. But we can’t just have some images of extant plans and an explanation of the design principles in use and their various failings – no, we need to have 40’ projected scrolling floor of plans that distract you from absorbing any actual information about the actual plans. It looks cool – but did I learn anything? Nope.

The Arrol Gantry was specially built to construct the Titanic – as Belfast was a very famous ship building yard – but even here, they didn’t have anything large enough to support a build of this scale.

And then we got funneled onto the Titanic Experience Ride… It took about 8 minutes and I’m not sure what we were supposed to learn from this other than ‘shit be huge, bitches!’. There was no point to this. It talked about people working long hours, in sometimes dark and dangerous conditions in the bowels of the emerging ship. I can only imagine this it to stop iGen kids from getting bored…

They put us in a little car that was hung from these extending arms that lifted and dropped to show you different static projected images. It was soooo Disney, I cann’t describe it any other way.

Once we got past The Ride – there were more informative boards and images that showed how the ship was built, but I noticed, a LOT of people weren’t reading much, they were skipping on past looking for the next fast dopamine hit instead. You train people that they are there – and their attention for steady reading is gone!

Man this thing was huge! But it didn’t have anything on a modern cruise ship – so I am not sure why it still feels so enormous in the imagination.

So – the one thing I did learn was that the ship was actually launched officially nearly a full year before it sunk. I was unaware of this, and initially couldn’t figure out what it had been doing from May 1911 to April 1912 when it sank, until we got a bit further around and discovered that most of that time was the ship being outfitted. They built it on land, then launch it onto the water, and it was only then that the internal fittings – carpentry, furniture, staterooms, recreational facilities etc are all installed.

Literally launched here:

Back on the design of the actual museum – it is a very impressive building! And totally conveys the sense of scale / size / enormity that people associate with the Titanic.

After the section on the build of the ship, there was a few galleries dedicated to the fit out. The White Star Line and their custom crockery remind me of Third Reich crockery – though I don’t know why? Hubris, perhaps?

I have long been amused by cruise ship carpets – they are usually crazy bright bespoke creations that presumably are designed to cover a thousand spilled cocktails… seems this is not a new trend! The carpets on the Titanic were also bespoke designed bright coloured monstrosities.

Wood was used for many parts of Titanic’s internal fitout. Huge quantities of wooden furniture and fittings were made for her public rooms and cabins. Years ago in 2014, Mr K and I stayed at the Waldorf Astoria in New York for a week or so and we were told that the timber work and panelling in the lifts and lobby of that hotel were created by the same carpenters and cabinet makers who created all the timber work for the Titanic. It is literally the same wood and was made by the same highly skilled craftsmen.

Very cool – and you can definitely see the similar artistic influence being carried through from that location to that on the ship.

An extant copy of the luncheon menu from the day the Titanic sunk! 😮

This is where the building, creating and fitting out info for the ship finished and we turned to the disaster of the Titanic sinking in the museum experience. You can feel the turn from explaining the scale and grandeur of the ship to the impending peril on this verandah that you traverse – it is designed to look like a promenade deck, complete with shuffle board, and a HUGE three story projection of roiling seas… suddenly things don’t feel so ‘marvel at our engineering’ anymore.

There were multiple story boards in a number of rooms that lead you through the disaster itself – many of which detailed the comms from the Titanic after it hit the iceberg all taken verbatim from the ship’s logs. Then the displays of the human toll: the survivors, and the not so fortunate.

A two story wall listing the names of all the people on the Titanic – very clearly showing how few were saved.

An extant life jacket – exactly like the ones in the film. It was recovered from an unknown Titanic victim. No records exist of who wore this jacket, it was recovered by the crew of the ‘Mackay-Bennet’ one of the ships that responded to give Titanic aid. Only twelve of the ship’s life jackets are known to remain out of a total of 3,500 that were onboard the ship. This makes it an extremely rare artifact. They were manufactured out of linen and cork of all things.

Downstairs is long gallery listing the changes to maritime safety that were introduced after the Titanic sunk. The new laws enforcing that all ships needed to have at least as many lifeboat spaces as the number of people that could board, as well as laws that required safety drills that included passengers, and laws regulating binoculars for lookouts and maximum speeds in ice fields in the North Atlantic… apparently these things were more ‘guidelines’ prior to the Titanic disaster.

It’s hard to fathom the depths of the ocean – I can’t envisage it. I also can’t imagine why some dedicated their lives to hunting for this ship.

An original deck chair from Titanic – recovered from the surface by the same ship, the ‘Mackay-Bennet’. It has a star on the headrest indicating the White Star Line and a brass name tag on the rear – it is one of only six known to have survived.

This is a ‘loving cup’ made of sterling silver presented to Sir Arthur Henry Royston, the captain of the Carpatia – the first ship to respond to Titanic’s calls for aids. It was given to him by Margaret “Molly” Brown. She also gave his entire crew medals made of gold, silver and bronze depending on their rank and chair a fund-raising committee for survivors.

The Unsinkalbe Molly Borwn and Captain Rostron of the Carpathia.

This must be one of the most famous violins in the world. It belonged to one of Titanic’s heroic musicians, Wallace Hartley. It was apparently a gift from his fiancée, Maria Robinson. It was made in Germany, c.1880 and was engraved : “For Wallace on the occasion of our engagement from Maria”. The violin has become an ubiqutious symbol of courage of spirit of those very famous musicians who chose to play until the very end of the Titanic disaster. They are the reason we say, “And the band played on…” to describe bravery in the face of adversity.

The next gallery was full of Titanic paraphernalia in popular culture – bit like the ‘References’ section at the bottom of a Wikipedia page! Most of it was a bit naff.

I’m not sure about this – I know the Jack and Rose thing on the movie made the whole picture on the bow thing famous – but this tableau for tourist to have their photo taken in, felt a little tasteless right at the end of the section of the museum that delved most into the disaster and its impacts. Naturally after this, you exit through the gift shop – and while it was filled with what seemed like really nice quality gifts and souvenirs, it somehow felt a bit unseemly to be buy t-shirts or coffee mugs with Titanic written all over them.

I do love the grand scale of the building.

After the museum, we went back to the city centre and collected some of our group before the long drive back to Dublin. It was a very long day – we were out for about 12 hours, but it was very informative and Quiggs was fantastic throughout.

Beyond the Pale… Dublin

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For like the first time in forever, I came to the UK this trip with no set plans for any down time. Usually, I have stuff booked, know where I’m going and what I want to see. I had vague ideas that if the weather was good, we might venture to Iceland or the Faroe Islands to go aurora hunting, but the weather was absolutely shite and unpredictable, and both those trips were going to be costly if we couldn’t actually get any viability, so we went hunting for a side trip that was going to be affordable and wouldn’t matter if the weather remained shit. After a bit of discussion, we decided, a long weekend in Dublin could be just the ticket.

We didn’t book an early morning departure – but I forgot how dark it is here until like 9am. Milton Keynes at 7am in February… looks eerily like something out of a Harry Potter description.

Cold and damp as we set off. There was so much moisture in the air… the car park lights in the long stay car park had enormous halos. Was very glad for the lighting though – walking around here in the dark without any sense of direction would be rather creepy.

Today, I embarked on a first – my first ever RyanAir flight. Which might seem a bit odd for me given how far and wide I have travelled over the years, but I’m a One World Girlie, and don’t usually bother looking too far outside the network. But given this was a really short trip (it always does my head in how easily, cheaply and quickly you can get to a whole different country when you’re in Europe… I mean, this flight was shorter than Brisbane to Sydney), we figured – how bad can it be?

Some observations about Luton – I don’t know what people are complaining about. It’s smaller, well laid out and easier to navigate than Heathrow. It’s got all the same food and shopping options of other airports this size and the taxes to fly in and out of Luton are less, so what’s not to like? Maybe the public transport options are dodgy? Not sure, we didn’t look into it. But I’d happily fly in and out of Luton over Heathrow and it’s grimey London ick any day.

Ryanair was a bit of an experience… somehow managed to feel even more like a bus service than even your average American domestic airline does. Perhaps due to all the bright yellow and blue livery – very bus and road transport type colours, (airlines tend to favour soothing over dynamic colour schemes). Or perhaps it was being ushered into a waiting pen and the literal standing around waiting for the doors to open, so everyone could rush the plane to take their (assigned) seats, or the jostling for overhead space or the utter lack of service once on board, or I dunno? It just felt like a bus line. Obviously they’re a famously budget airline, but having mostly flown Qantas, Emirates, Air Swiss, Cathay Pacific, Singapore Airlines, Air Canada and even JAL over the last decade (I can’t remember the last time I was stupid enough to book a Jetstar flight), I haven’t got much to compare it with anymore. I found the air safety card on the seat backs to be somewhat amusing… practical I’m sure, but amusing.

Anyway, it wasn’t long before we landed in Dublin, went through the most cursory of immigration processes, took a shuttle to our hotel, dropped off our weekend bags and head for a pub! Because Ireland! Neither of us are Guinness or beer drinkers so I predict quite a bit of cider will be imbibed over this weekend adventure.

Like most visitors to Dublin, we chose to stay right in the Temple Bar area – because that’s where all the pubs and good vibes are to be found. We knew this could end up noise revelry and possibly disturbed sleep, but that’s okay! When in Ireland and all that. Not far from our Hotel, we found the famous Love Lane, which kinda marks the centre of the town’s creative and arts district. It’s a bit of a hub for handsome graffiti and small galleries. Very quaint.

They must paint over the tiles on the Love Wall semi-regularly, as there are markers around inviting people to leave their marks on the wall.

I did not leave my inane musings in the wall, but delighted in reading some of the more thoughtful and poetic entries left by others.

We had a bit of a moist meander around the Quays, it was here I discovered my new knee doesn’t really like the cold 🙁 It was only 4C today, and I was experience way more pain walking about than I should be… not happy Jan.

A timber riverside boardwalk … every single rivet/bolt head was covered with a bottle cap. People were sleeping on the benches here, Dublin has a right problem with rough sleeping, I can’t imagine sleeping out in this weather.

The “Meeting Place” statue was apparently designed to reflect every day life, quite unlike other statuary in the city which is designed to aggrandise important people/events. As is typical of any city, they’re commonly referred to by something less savoury than the artists and town planners initially intended and are affectionately known as the “Hags with the Bags” or the “Slags with the Bags”. Interestingly, that tidbit was left off the QR code info that could be scanned beside them. 🙂 They are located in Dublin’s busy shopping area, and have iconic Dublin shopping bags at their feet.

More ciders and some warming seafood chowder for lunch at The Lotts… best damn seafood chowder I’ve had since 2009 at a tiny little cafe I can’t remember the name of near the Moeraki Boulders in South Island of New Zealand – in truth, both memories may be impacted by extremely cold conditions and a general sense of wellbeing at finally coming in from the cold and wet. 🙂 The Lotts was a good choice – great ciders, some excellent chowder and an 80s and 90s playlist that just lifted the spirits before we were spat back out into the cold again.

The Palace Bar is a bit of an institution in Dublin, having been established a little over 200 years ago and being one of the few remaining Victorian snugs in town. It reminded me very much of the Princess Louise gin palace in Holborn.

The pressed tin ceiling, the warm timber bar and seating spaces divided into little quiet nooks … if those walls could talk, I’m sure they have tales of politics, poetry, scandal and revolution! The Palace Bar feels like quite the step back in time.

The main bar area, which I have to say isn’t much bigger than my living room (and in fact may even be smaller), had this amazing stained glass roof. It was a very pleasant looking pub, but after the vibrant upbeat atmosphere of Lotts, this place felt a bit staid and stuffy – everyone was sitting way too close to each other and having stifled conversations, I feel it needed a bit of music to liven the place up.

Temple Bar Square – which is you know, rectangular.

The famous Temple Bar… all of 2pm, and lit up like a Christmas tree.

Before too long, we were a bit tired of pub hopping and went in hunt of some dinner. The Seafood Cafe was just down the road from our hotel (The Dublin Citi Hotel), and promised fresh oysters – and who can say ‘no’ to that!? I quite liked their style on this front – they offered a bunch of different types of oysters on the one platter, and if you weren’t a big oyster fan, you’d probably say they all taste the same… but if you’re an oyster snob like me, you’ll find each of these varieties had differing amounts of saltiness, mineral ‘tang’ and varying levels of creamy texture. The Doriel Creek were my favourite – possibly because they are most like the huge Tasmanian Pacific oysters, I like to buy at home.

Next day we were off to Trinity University to hunt down the Book of Kells and see the Long Hall Library. I was here back in 1995, and remember the visit quite fondly… moving quietly through the dark rooms looking at the pages of the this Millenia old book created by monks shivering in their monastery; it’s about as romantically medieval as it gets!

Interestingly the curation of the Book of Kells exhibit started with an series of panels describing and explaining Ogham (writing system c.5thC AD) – which struck me as odd, given the Book of Kells is famous for its illuminated manuscript, and from memory doesn’t have any obvious Ogham text in it? The panels provided some context; Ogham was predominantly used to inscribe stones, much in the same way runes were used by the Norse cultures, and these stones were used as boundary and directional markers. There has been some Ogham discovered in the marginalia of the Book of Kells (which was created in the 9thC AD!), and that apparently is the connection here.

I knew we weren’t going to be able to take any photos of the actual pages of the book, so took advantage of some of the high definitely pictures throughout the display to capture some of the intricate details from the artworks.

There was an excellent display on the medieval pigments used to create the illuminations:

MEDIEVAL INKS AND PIGMENTS:
Extracted from a wide range of sources, these include powdered particles from clays and minerals; dyes extracted from lichens, barks, berries, and insects; and pigments produced through chemical reactions.
BLACK:
1: Iron gall ink: This is created by the reaction of iron salts with the gallo-tannic acid extracted from plant galls. This is the principal ink on the Book of Kells.
2: Lamp black: A fine particle carbon deposit created from burning oils, rosin, or pitch. Carbon black ink
was found in script and design on the Book of Kells.
3: Bistre: A carbon black produced from wood soot and Char-blacks were also commonly made from fruit stones and vines.
4: Acacia gum: Inks and pigments are bound to their support by sticky substances such as gums and glues. Gum Arabic is the hardened sap of the acacia tree.
WHITE:
1: Gypsum: A calcium sulphate mineral common in Ireland. This is the white on the Book of Kells.
2: Lead white: This is a basic lead carbonate, produced by exposing lead to acidic vapours, heat, moisture and fermenting matter. It is a toxic pigment with a tendency to darken.
1: Indigoindigotin dye: Extracted from the woad plant ‘Isatis tinctoria’. This is the blue on the Book of Kells. It was mixed with gypsum to create lighter tones.
2: Azurite: A hydrated copper carbonate mineral. This is common in manuscripts from the later medieval period.
3: Lazurite: This aluminosilicate sulphate comes from the mineral lapis lazuli. Exceptional quality is required for a bright blue, which makes it a costly pigment.

The illuminated alphabet:

Then, after reading all the informational plaques and panels, we are able to enter the room where the book is held… and disappointment ensues. A replica of the book is in a darkened room, opened up with two sacrificial pages from the original tome are on view. Just two pages, and neither of them containing an illumination – just two pages of text. Seriously, nothing special about these two pages at all. I understand wanting to preserve and protect the book, but charging us €25 to come in and see a whole lot of not much is a bit rude.

Thankfully the Long Room library didn’t disappoint – even with over half of the collection of books removed, it is still a stunning place to visit. I somehow managed to initially walk in and be the only person in the entire library for about 5 minutes. Five minutes which felt like an eternity as I stood there and smelled the old books and my eyes adjusted to the dim light. What an incredible building, full of so much knowledge and history. Wikipedia and Google might be able to give you answers to everything your weird and wired little brain can think of, but the feelings and sensations of being in a place like this – they can’t give you that.

The silence was incredible, you could hear a pin drop. No people nearby, no school groups or loud American tourists… it was blissful to have a special place like this to myself; even if only for a few minutes.

I found a quiet seat and just absorbed my surroundings, craning my neck to see the famous ceilings. Just… wow. Fleeting moments like this are what makes the nightmarish transits and cramped budget flights all worth it.

Oddly, there is no ‘exit through the gift shop’ happening here… and if you are interested in books on the Book of Kells or other things associated with Trinity College or Irish history, you are directed to these ‘big red boxes’ which contain the Book of Kells Experience. If you’re immediately thinking, “Spirit of London”, you’d be correct.

Inside is an audio visual tour of the book, with very little history about who, when and where it was created, but plenty of enlarged projected imagery from the book being whizzed around the room and towards you to a medjieval Irish soundtrack… and then the obligatory gift shop exit! Admittedly, it was full of what appeared to be good quality products and souvenirs to take home from your visit, but none of it was thrilling enough that I wanted it cluttering up my house indefinitely.

Directly across the road from the entrance to Trinity College was the Irish Whiskey Museum… and that sounded like a decent place to get out of the cold for a bit longer before lunchtime. 🙂

The museum is located in an old building, but a brand new complex and promised to teach us all about the history of Irish whiskey… and it did, complete with a young tour guide leading us from room to room, reciting a well-worn spiel about how the Irish were making their moonshine since way back when and how lots of it literally led to blindness and death before they figured out how to make it safely.

In the early 19thC the whiskey distilling industry was quite unregulated, and there was over 1000 distilleries manufacturing and selling whiskey of wildly varying quality to unsuspecting customers all over the country. By the 1970s, they were literally down to TWO distilleries both owned by the one company. Now there are around 40 distilleries as whiskey wanking is becoming ever more popular. The history is quite interesting if you wanna read up on it: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_whiskey

Of course, there was a wee tasting at the end of the tour… and I discovered I don’t like Irish whiskey any more than I like Scotch whisky… so in the debate over whiskey vs whisky, I’m solidly still in camp, ”Gin”!

After our visit to the Irish Whiskey Museum, we decided (a fatally poor decision as it turned out) to have lunch at The Old Mill. I wasn’t practically hungry, so went for the light seafood chowder option again – worked so well yesterday to warm the cockles; while Stephola opted for a plate of coddle hoping for something reminiscent of her Scottish grandmother’s cooking.

The chowder looked innocuous enough, and was certainly tasty… but, sadly, would have my stomach churning all afternoon, and then eventually hurling my guts up about six hours later! Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I threw up like this… it was bad. And when I emailed The Old Mill to let them know that whatever remained of that particular dish should be disposed of – they didn’t give a fuck and didn’t bother to reply. So warning – don’t go there!

But the afternoon was spent exploring more of the town (before the projectile vomiting, of course – I didn’t know that was going to happen yet!). We went past the Temple Bar again, only to see they had added some massive shamrocks to their lighting design… St Patricks day is just a couple of weeks away, and I imagine Dublin goes off with visitors all in town to celebrate.

Back cross the Quays again, we popped into the Boar’s Head pub to avoid a group of school children that were just entering the National Leprechaun Museum… yes, that’s correct. They have a National Leprechaun Museum – which is a bit of a misnomer, as there was very little going on here to do with Leprechauns in general. It is actually a folklore and story telling museum, and we were quite interested in the old oral traditions of Ireland.

Choosing to stop for a port rather than sharing the spaces with school kids seemed a good way to preserve one’s sanity. 🙂

So the National Leprechaun Musuem is privately owned and dedicated to folklore and mythology. They focus on the oral traditions of story telling and claim to be the first (maybe the only?) leprechaun museum in the world! To visit the museum, you get guided through several rooms – and if you are lucky by a very passionate and well spoken student type – and taken on a journey telling you about the history of Irish oral traditions and you get to hear a number of mythological tales retold to you, much in the same way they were shard for hundreds of years before mass media.

Each room is themed to match the myth or story being shared – and we heard stories of leprechauns, pixies, banshees… it was delightful. If you’ve any interest in history, homeric tradition, poetry, literature, or mythology – it’s well worth a visit, and only an hour or so required.

After this it was back to the hotel to rest as my stomach was really pulling off cartwheels by this time. I think this trip to Dublin will forever be associated with food poisoning! I have NEVER been this sick… normally when we’re travelling, I will watch my travel companions drop like flies from flu and stomach bugs, but my OCD-like meticulous hand hygiene has usually held me in good stead from catching most things while away. Anyways, I was laying down and feeling increasingly BLARGH, and though maybe having a shower and taking my drugs to sleep it off was the best approach. So I go to the bathroom and get into the teeny tiny move-and-you’re-brushing-up-against-the-cold-glass shower cubicle, when he heat and steam starts to rise and I think, “I am going to actually be sick!”. I squish myself out of the shower and barely manage to push my clothes and things off the toilet to open the lid – a microsecond poorer timing and I would have chucked uncontrollably all over my clean clothes!

Linda Blair could not have been prouder! Projectile orangey chowder until my eyes watered. It was sooo gross, and three massive spews in total. I could not for the life of me remember the last time I vomited. It was so unpleasant. Le sigh… I eventually finished my shower and then went to bed hoping that tomorrow was way less interesting.

Thankfully I awoke up this morning feeling much improved. The toxins had left the building, and now I felt good as new, even hungry, as I had expelled yesterday’s lunch and been too queasy to have even a sandwich for dinner. After a bit of a slow start, we hunted down a cafe that Stephola’s stepdaughter recommended – First Chapter. It was a fun little cafe with a quirky interior design made to give the illusion of furniture and furnishings being drawn. The menu was a bit simple, but after last night’s stomach upset – simple was fine by me!

I ordered a up of tea and toastie, and somehow got a full flowery cottage garden with my brunch!

After this we Uber’d (it was pissing down rain) to the Irish National Museum to look for dark ages treasures – which I will put all in a separate post.

After museum’ing for most of the day, we were kinda tuckered out, and decided to head back to the hotel for a quiet afternoon, a dinner at the local in preparation for an early exit out of Dublin to head back to the airport and fly back to Luton.

The shuttle back to the airport the next morning was far more of an adventure than it needed to be – the location we were dropped off, wasn’t the same location that the shuttle picks you up for the return journey… no that might make too much sense. Instead we watched as a shuttle sailed past us and we then spent ten minutes marching up and down the road (which had numerous bus stops and way too much inconsistent signage), until we found the collection point 200m down the road from where you get dropped off. Much logic, Wow. Thankfully, we had allowed ourselves plenty of time to arrive at the airport. So we could board our bright yellow and blue Ryanair bus back to the UK.

All up – had a fine time, so glad to have seen the Giant’s Causeway after all these years, but I could totally have done without the food poisoning, Dublin!

Made it back and noticed that Bella didn’t seem to even know we had gone!

What is it about transit days?

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Invariably, transit days are always a horror show. Angus and I were both flying out today – Angus back to Aust and me heading back to the UK, so we packed ourselves up early, went for a quiet breakfast where we ran into the fabulous Holly who was so absolutely exhausted but had dragged herself out of bed in the hope of running into us. <3


Took an Uber (got a cab, again) to the airport which was uneventful (so long as we ignore that this driver also got up to well over 130 kmph), and then walked into what can only be described as one of the most chaotic airports I’ve ever seen… rivalled only by our arrival in Moscow perhaps at Sheremetyevo Airport in 2018. At least there were some masks in the BA queue.

Anyway… turns out all the One World Airlines were in one section and Angus’ Qatar flight, leaving 30 mins before mine, was happily in the check-in counters right near my British Airways one. The websites for both airlines said that check-in would be available from 3 hours before scheduled departures, so we joined our respective queues. I was about 7th in line to get checked and the check-in was supposed to start in about 5 mins. Angus was about 40 deep in his queue but it was already moving as he joined towards the back. I stood there (*right about now, I can’t remember whether I have mentioned just how much my pain levels were ramped up atm… I literally can not stand for more than about 3 minutes before I find myself shifting from foot to foot, pain shooting from my feet to my hips, my knees feeling like they’re going to collapse out from under me and of course I’m inevitably failing to breathe because pain does that to you), with the understanding our queue would open shortly and I would get checked-in relatively quickly – only problem with my cunning plan was that the British Airways staff didn’t seem to have read the, ‘three hours before scheduled departure’ memo and about 25 mins of standing later, I was starting to feel really fucking desperate. I could see Angus moving up in his queue while mine hadn’t moved. He texted that he’d get his stuff checked in and then come and stand in my queue for me, but I was like ‘holy fuck I better not still be standing by the time he’s checked-in’. But, you know, transit days being nightmarish at the best of times, of course I was still waiting when he got through his queue! He took my space while I limped off to the side looking desperately for somewhere to sit. I was on the side long enough to strike up a conversation with a nice Canadian man on his way to Baghdad who was calmly reading and thinking his Royal Jordanian flight wasn’t open for check-in yet but as soon as I pointed out the queue behind us, he ran off and no doubt discovered he was now running late.

Finally! BA check-in opened at 2hrs 20mins before the scheduled departure (fuckers!), and it was at this point that the generic BA monitors above the check-in counters switched to say “London Heathrow – Checked In Online” and “Business and Priority Customers” queues… and wouldn’t you know it? For some bizarre reason, the One World Sapphire, Emerald and Ruby were showing up as being able to use the Priority Lane and I needn’t have stood in line at all. 🙁 Bees dick from tears and collapse at this point. As predicted though, barely five minutes after the check-in opened, Angus was up the front on the queue and I limped over with my passport.

Got checked in and the woman behind the counter asked me if I was okay (What gave me away… the hunched over pained posture? Or the flushed face with tears forming in the corner of my wincing eyes?). I replied that I needed to rest and now I had two hours before my flight so I’d be fine – which is when she mentioned the stairs. My flight was leaving from a ‘remote terminal’ which is a euphemism for taking a bus to the middle of the tarmac and climbing a steep flight of steps to get on the plane. Oh FFS. I had to say ‘No. I can’t do steps today.’ :/ So she insisted I get an airport assistance person to lead us through to the gate.

I took up my seat again and we waited for the assistance person – policy is they won’t just give us a chair and let Angus push me through screening etc, I had to wait for them to have a staff member spare… and nothing about Athens Airport was screaming ‘competence’ or ‘well-staffed’ on this day. There was another young woman waiting for assistance also – she wasn’t in pain, but had her foot in plaster and was hobbling on crutches so they were making her wait for help too due to the stairs. Eventually… like about 45 mins of sitting around… someone turned up with two chairs and attempted to push us BOTH at the same time through customs and security. It was shambolic – he kept running us into people and nearly into walls while Angus was trotting on beside us and could have easily guided one of us. :/ Some policies are just stupid.

To their credit, we found ourselves through security and customs in very quick time, Angus’ gate was off in another direction and I barely got to say a quick goodbye and squeeze his hand before I was being propelled towards my gate where I was unceremonious left 50 mins before my flight… which left one hour late. 😐

It was during this time where I was left twiddling my thumbs that I received a handful of WhapsApp messages that basically told me my driver that I had booked to take me to Aylesbury was ditching the job… oh dear, it’s almost like he had belatedly discovered the planned rail strike (the same one I had a heads up on some two weeks earlier) and decided to ditch my booking in favour or screwing some desperate traveller who suddenly found themselves without options to get home! What the fuck, man? I made the booking days ago, it was fully paid for and now the driver is trying to say I gave them a different postcode? Seriously? The postcode I gave them in Aylesbury is the ONLY damn postcode in the entire UK that I know! So I’m pretty sure I didn’t give them one only 18 miles away and not the 44 miles I needed to travel. So didn’t need this aggravation.

Got onto damage control real quick and made alternative arrangements with Stephola and figured I’d fight it out with the transfer company fora refund later. The motherfucking dodgy personal transport industry strikes again! Le sigh. Eventually got on the plane and, as I said before, our flight left one hour late – most of which we spent sitting in our seats waiting to get a new space in the queue to leave… air travel is definitely not what it was pre-pandemic. So much rolling of eyes, and even more ‘hurry up and wait’ than ever.

My flight was thankfully just how you like them – uneventful. British Airways has slunk the way of Jetstar and other budget airlines though… not even a cup of tea without whipping out your credit card if you happen to be seated in economy; which is kinda sad. They used to be a pretty reliably good airline.

Arrived in Heathrow, and unsurprisingly, no one was there to assist me as I was promised on the other end so I limped my wait through border control, baggage collection, out eventually out through a two minute stop in the duty free to fix my driver up with two bottles of interesting gins (It was the least I could do on such short notice)… out and straight away I received a message from Stephola saying she had just parked. Thankfully my luggage made it, and thank God for Steph – there’s not many I happily pick up at the airport, but Steph will always have a lift from me forever. <3

A quick hug, and out of the city we head to the comfort of the village… ever such a long and painful day. Further reinforcing why, 1) we do NOT sightsee or go touristing on transit days and 2) we always, (always!), travel with our drugs on our person not in our checked luggage!

Life in the Fast Train

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I’m awake bright and early this morning to pack my suitcase and get my shit sorted because we are heading to Lyon!  We’ve got to take a train from Leighton Buzzard to London, then a cab from Euston Station to St Pancras, then the Eurostar from there to Lille in France then change to the TGV to Lyon… so we are setting off from ‘the Buzz’ (I’m almost local now so I get to call it that 😉 ) at 0900 and fingers crossed – we should arrive in Lyon at 1900.

Right… let’s skin this cat!

I’m back.  Strangely we will have a bit of time today sitting around on trains and naturally glued to our phones. Got to the train station, and this is totally not connected to anything at all, but there is a cool sprung section of pavement at the Buzz that generates electricity when you walk on it… it’s beta test of some sort to see whether or not larger areas of spung walkways could generate power.  Very cool, I wonder if it’ll become a thing.

However, I digress.  The first segment of our transit went ok… train from the Buzz to London was fine. Met a nice cabbie this time who didn’t make a song and dance or try to rip us off over a short fare from Euston to St Pancras and so for his trouble I gave him £12 for the £8 fare… Take note, Sydney cabbies – it pays not to be a prick!

Once at St Pancras we found we had to wait around until the passengers from previous Eurostar trains had been cleared away before we could be checked though. There was scant little seating but we managed to find somewhere to wait about half hour. The rope lines they have set up are worse than bloody Disneyland and everyone not happy about being directed around like cattle. Anyway, eventually we went in, got scanned out of the UK, went though security and then in through French customs. Was reasonably painless but then we were herded into a large departure lounge with about half as much seating as was required. People were sitting around all over the floor or perched on luggage or coffee tables. But silly really. We managed to snavel a pair of seats and then time completely stopped!  It seemed to take forever for our 12:40 boarding time to roll around. No idea why… it’s a mystery.

Eventually our train was boarding and we settled ourselves onto the Eurostar premier economy seats that Stephola had chosen. Very comfy all round… chairs were good, tables were a useful size and the meal that came with our ticket was quite nice with a wee bottle of rosé to go with it.

The train is incredibly fast and amazingly quiet. Everyone was also abiding by the unwritten rules of being quiet in snooty class travel, which I have to say – I’m really getting used to. I don’t know why economy seats on planes and trains are always so noisy – people playing games and phones not on silent, people just talking too loud… it’s maddening but there’s always a sort of hushed serene atmosphere that comes with more pricey seats. Dammit.

Going through the Chunnel was cool and I honestly had no idea who quick it would be. One minute it’s gone black – the actual tunnel is about 50km long and you’re through it in about 30mins. Before you know it, you’re hurtling through the French countryside which looked beautiful as we passed fields and quaint little villages.

We arrived in Lille to change trains to the TGV much sooner than I expected (possibly because my phone hadn’t automatically changed time zones for me) and then it was a short amount of confusion regarding bathrooms (that were miles away) and platforms (which was the one we had just come up from!) before we were settled on the next train to Lyon.

Another couple of hours in a comfy carriage and next thing we knew we were pulling into Lyon. The Lyon Gare de Part Dieu is being renovated atm so it was a bit of a clusterfuck looking for a bathroom – and ffs France, really?  €1 to use the loo?  Don’t you know that’s really expensive for Antipodeans?! We’ve just paid a small fortune to take a train is it too much to ask that you maintain comfort stops for passengers?  Harumph.

Found our way out to the taxi ranks and met another lovely cabbie (man, I hope that Sydney arsehole got sacked!) who drove us to our hotel… where, oddly enough, every other guest is walking around in black with metal bands on their shirts. Yep. We’re in the right place.

Threw our stuff into our room and went down for a late dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. Discovered my French is way too rusty when we ended up with mineral water we didn’t want and two serves of fries we also didn’t want. Never mind we had a nice meal and took a spare bottle of wine to take up to the room.

Slept like a dead thing. Tomorrow – chill out day and then Rammstein!
Very excited. 🙂