At Dublin Airport, I realized that I would sleep with any of the men there, as long as they talked to me the entire time. Readers, that statement may shock you – especially the guys who are nice enough to read my scribbles on here, but you would feel the same way if you heard those pretty Irish accents.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I like to hear a sultry French voice, the lilting tones of an Italian, and, even at a push, the bumpkinese of a Gump. But oh my goodness, that Southern Ireland thing….wowza.
My niece Danii and I went into a small bar at Dublin Airport, killing time while we waited for my sister-in-law Karen to arrive on her flight from Scotland – I badly needed something to eat that would soak up the residual medication still saturating my bloodstream. The fear of flying pills always kick in properly once I’ve landed, and I can usually tell as I look like I’ve had a mini-stroke.
But – a kilo of Irish chips later (I’m so metric), we sat in arrivals awaiting Karen, and I knew I was really and truly in Ireland due to the countless amount of nuns passing us by (like one of those fairground booths where you throw tennis balls at things to win a stuffed toy) (no offense meant to the nuns). I’d already popped into the gift shop to replenish our dwindling supply of chocolate, and got in a complete mix up trying to use Euros. Nothing like being a Euro who can’t handle her Euros right?
Karen (my lovely Scottish sister-in-law) arrived at the gate, and it was so cool to embark on our mini-adventure. Danii had us booked in a great place for our first night in Ireland……Trinity College, which is a REAL live college that rents out rooms, right- diddly- smack in the centre of Dublin…..so we happily found our rental shuttle and off we went to claim our widdle bitty car.
Soon we were on the road! Danii driving (thank God) and all three of us trying and failing to read a map. No Sat-Nav on the vehicle, and sadly no phone help either, as the roaming charges were more than any of us had to spend (thanks US Cellular). But, between us, we eventually found our way to the amazing city of Dublin…..we were so happy! It was really a lovely place, and we know that because we got hopelessly lost and drove around Dublin for over an hour and a half. Ever had that happen, when you know where you are supposed to go, but there’s either no street or it’s one-way or you have to have a secret handshake????….well it was like that. But we giggled and laughed and felt like we were kids out having a lark. I think we drove around Dublin longer than we sat on our respective flights….but please don’t tell anyone I ratted us out….
Finally, we got where we needed to go – phew – and for someone like me who left school at 16 and whose only college experience was visiting my kids when they went to school, it was a neat experience. Although odd, because we were on campus with countless students from all over the world, and mobs of tourists who were taking snapshots of the place as it was so other-wordly.
Trinity college was founded by the first Queen Liz, back in 1592, and is famous for its library which contains 6.2 million printed volumes, the most famous being The Book of Kells, believed to have been created in 800 A.D., which predates ALL of the Harry Potter novels..
After a few bumbles and false starts, we finally got the keys to our rooms, found our correct and assigned building (there were lots of them) and after a quick cockroach check, the three of us met downstairs and went oot and aboot into the streets of Dublin’s fair city.
Oh, to be young, single and carefree in a party city like Dublin, well there’s nothing quite like it – except I am none of those things, and since the onset of being old, I can’t even tolerate vodka which, quite frankly stinks. However, it was fun walking around the town, popping in the shops to buy crap I didn’t need, gawking at anyone who sounded Irish. We also had a drink at a bar that was previously a bank, it looked rather like the one in Mary Poppins, it was all bloody wonderful!
The next morning, we had a good look around the university grounds and behaved like tourists, and then packed up, jumped into the little car and drove across the entire western expanse of Ireland – ok well Danii did all the driving – but we offered emotional support and snacks. Our destination….Dingle. But it took a while to get out of the city….it was a familiar experience navigating our way out – it was just like navigating our way in… we got lost…..they don’t make it easy in Dublin….
Our drive to Dingle was breathtaking, and although we were seeing a lot of wonderful things from the inside of a small car, I think we were all pleased to see the ‘real’ Ireland that lay beyond the cities. The fields were the emerald green colour I’d imagined they would be, and seeing cows dotted everywhere, well it just made you hungry for a hunk of fresh bread with thick Irish butter….which is a bitch if you have to eat a gluten-free diet which 2 of us were following.
We reached Dingle, and although the rain had started and the wind was cold, it was still a lovely place. Remote (ish), wild, yet in the civilized way that Great Britain is as well. We drove to the beach, got out and braced the wet wind, and I closed my eyes and thought that I could easily stay somewhere like this, at least for a month or two……But we pressed on, because one of the main reasons I wanted to go to Dingle was to see something I’d seen on TV – an amazing geologic event which we were having a problem finding on the map. Eventually Karen realized the place I was looking for was not where we were! Unfortunately, due to my lack of proper research, it turned out to be located 375 miles north and in Northern Ireland as well….oops, my bad.
Undaunted, we backtracked the windy and skinny roads to spend a night (lucky to find any vacancies too) in a place we’d spotted earlier on the way to Dingle, the small town /large village of Adare, in County Limerick.
We loved Adare. A village kept beautiful by the proud residents who live there, and all three of us declared we could happily live in one of the thatched cottages, or the beautiful abbey…sigh. Picture a castle by a river with swans, a stone bridge, an abbey that looks haunted. Many pubs that you just want to sit in all day and look out of the window. Quaint shops that sell cool stuff that makes you want to be a legit Irish person. Everywhere you looked in Adare, something pretty caught your eye (except when I was looking in the mirror).
We said farewell (in Irish accents) to Adare, and then hightailed it back to Dublin, where we happily deposited the car to the rental agency and got the bus to our next hotel so we didn’t have to navigate any longer (thank the Irish Gods). This time, Danii had booked us a loft apartment in the Temple Bar area…pretty swanky….the good part was that we didn’t get lost as the bus driver was in charge, the bad part was we were knackered (British for exhausted) by the time we got there from all the bloody walking with large packs on our backs.
Temple bar was cool, and I threw myself into a steak and ale pie at the very first opportunity, while the gals ate Italian…..yeah, we weren’t being too adventurous there. It was such a cool place to hang out though, loads of people (mostly foreigners) and great places to eat, drink and listen to music. We found a pub where we could spend our last night in Ireland, and we laughed as we thought the three of us sounded like the start of a joke…you know…an Englishwoman, a Scottish woman and an American walk into a bar……..
The pub was grand….such an atmosphere, so Irish, so quintessentially Dublin…so Okie…wait what? I shit you not folks, after only two Irish ballads, the singer at the pub broke into several Garth Brooks songs, and a couple of Johnny Cash renditions…..I half expected to turn around and see the Gumpmeister! After a good laugh and some Guinness (I had a coke) we turned in. We all felt as though we had barely even scratched the surface of Ireland, but I know we were really happy that we’d had this lovely mini-trip.
I arrived back in Blighty none the worse for wear, and after a good nights sleep at my sister Lynne’s, I was off again on my travels. You know, I kind of felt a bit like Rick Steve off of PBS – except I am not as nerdy as him and I swear a lot.
My next stop was Stratford-Upon-Avon, it’s one of those places where most Brits don’t actually visit until they have emigrated to another place and are popping home for a holiday – yep, that’s me – the budding writer, finally going to pay homage to the town where good old Bill (as in Shakespeare) was born – in this very house…..
Stratford is a lovely town, so English, so pretty, so old. I holed up in an actual Inn, that went up in my estimations by its close proximity to the best chip shop in town..bonus!
I had a great look around Stratford, I walked what seemed like miles. It is such a different experience when you travel with no car. Where I live in the states, not having a car absolutely paralyzes you as it is virtually impossible to get anywhere. And here was I lugging a suitcase and backpack around, riding so many trains that I contemplated moving to Austin, Texas upon my return to the States and becoming a folk singer…
I did sample the local cuisine, and found it every bit as delicious as I knew it would be – this is a real piece of fish (fresh from the sea) and chips, which are potatoes that have been peeled…cut and fried without seasoning or ever being frozen – this portion of cod and chips is a small portion, probably about 30,000 calories and worth every flipping mouthful!
Another place all of you should try if you ever go to the UK is GREGGS.
This is the largest bakery chain in the UK and they have the best, and I mean the BEST pastries that you will ever eat for a reasonable price. No one can walk past one of these stores without buying something….YUM – they are also famous for replacing Jesus in their Nativity scene with a sausage roll……..probably not the best marketing strategy, but edgy……
Stratford is a lovely place to visit. The historic buildings are simply beautiful, and there are so many things to see and do besides eat. However, I highly recommend pigging out while you are there, except at any of the ‘dodgy’ places.
But I digress…..after my fast trip to Stratford-Upon-Avon (That means it is the town of Stratford on the River Avon) I got back on the train and headed to my next destination….Oxford and the Cotswolds.
I got off the train at Oxford, and was met by my best friend from my Elementary School back in Kingston (See earlier blog – where you learn boring facts about my childhood).
Debs and I made friends when I was ten years old, just moved back from Africa and I talked like the Queen. Yet she still liked me! Fast forward forty-six years or so – and here we were at Oxford Station meeting again…..Surprisingly, we actually recognized one another, and honestly, she really didn’t look much different – I could have hated her for that as she did not look nearly as old as me, but I forgave her instantly.
We hugged and giggled like girls/cheerleaders (unusual for me) and between us used up half the country’s daily oxygen quota as we caught up on forty plus years of chat.
Debs took me on a whirlwind tour of part of the Cotswolds, a lovely area in England that encompasses parts of six counties of rural England’s countryside.
We went to a place called Bibury, in Gloucestershire, where I would also like to live …the list keeps getting longer…..I certainly could imagine some Hobbits hanging out here. It was such a lovely place, and the colours there rivaled those in Ireland.
I had a glorious day catching up with Debs and meeting her family for the very first time. I wish I had allocated more time with her, but I had another destination! I was headed to Rothersthorpe, a village in Northampton. Dear friends of mine, Brian (a Brit) and Mary (a Canadian) had just moved there from the USA. It had been a few years since I’d seen them, and I couldn’t wait! It would be lovely to see their new home, their puppies…oh, and Mary was grilling me a steak………..