Day 6 - Monday – July 2, 2012

Day 6 - Monday – July 2, 2012

We loaded the coach at 5:45 this morning in order to catch the ferry to Holyhead, Wales. When I first heard that we were taking a ferry I envisioned a type of one level, partly open to fresh sea breezes, type of ferry. The ferry in Dublin was an eight level ocean liner. I guess this makes more sense since we were crossing the Irish Sea. Our group was considered “foot passengers” since we did not drive a car. We had to wait for the “car passengers” to load their vehicles before we were loaded on a bus that transported us to the dock. By the time we got on board and received directions from Emilia, many of the comfy chairs were occupied. The ferry’s comforts included: a game room, first class lounge, a lounge for everyone, three restaurants, and a duty-free shop.  There was a holiday-like atmosphere on board with a multitude of children running around all excited, families hunkered down in groups with coloring books and newspapers and sulky teenagers with ear buds listening to music and/or texting (it’s the same everywhere).  I was a little concerned about sea- sickness because we had been warned that crossing the Irish Sea could be a rough ride. Even though the vessel was enormous, I did feel the rolling about half an hour out, but only when I was walking around. I was fine as long as I was sitting. The voyage took three hours until we landed on a tiny island, in the tiny country of Wales and then it was back on a coach.

Our new coach driver, Joe, did not hold a candle to Danny. For one thing, the heat in the coach was stuck “on”, so that the people sitting next to the windows had very hot air blowing on them. If that wasn’t enough, the coach engine overheated and broke down twice. But staying to the true optimism of Americans, several of the mothers on the trip diverted our woes with music and dancing in the bus aisle. Truly entertaining!

Our first destination in Wales was a tiny town with a very big name: Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch which means; "St. Mary's Church in the hollow of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio near the red cave." Like Northern Ireland, Wales is a part of the United Kingdom. Wales is a Principality and the Welsh culture was oppressed by the British. All of the public signs are now written in both English and Welsh.

We learned about a charming custom in Wales called Lovespoons. Lovespoons were given by suitors to their sweethearts expressing a desire for a relationship. The lovespoons designs symbolize different sentiments. For example, the love spoon in my picture could represent: the heart- my heart is yours, chain- our lives are linked together, captured sphere- our union shall be blessed. I bought a couple of lovespoons to give to my loved ones.

We mostly went to Llan…goch in order to stop at a store to purchase food and gifts. It was also time to learn about the new currency, British pounds. Very confusing! Our next stop was the great castle of Conwy built in 1283.

One side of the castle was graced by the brilliant green mountains of Snowdonia while the sea lapped the other side. The entire town of Conwy was enclosed by three quarters of a mile long wall that was guarded by 22 towers. Our coach’s entrance through a narrow arch in the wall required all of us passengers to hold our breath as the arch passed within inches on both sides of the coach (one coach did not have such a nerves -of -steel driver, so their coach door was damaged). Conwy Castle loamed over the delicate town dwellings. The narrow, streets were lined with shops and houses of soft muted colors and intricate brick and stone designs. The pitched roofs were often lined with lace-like edging and charming chimney tops. Considering the close proximity of the fishing boats, it seemed like a perfect place for a fish and chips lunch. So, several of us stopped at the Fisherman’s Restaurant where I ordered a Cod Special and a pot of tea. The cod was fried in a very light batter that had a pleasing crunch and a delicate taste. The chips were also delicious, but I was not a big fan of the mushy peas. They had the consistency of baby food.

 The Stena Line Ferry from Dublin Ireland across the Irish Sea to Holyhead, Wales

 Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, Wales

 Flat Stanley and Fiends under the Welsh flag

 Flat Stanley enjoying a Bristish phone booth

 A mountain in Snowdonia

 A roundabout in the charming town of Conwy, Wales

 Conwyn Castle

 The sea laps the castle on one side...

 and Snowdonia graces the other side

 Conwy suspension bridge built in 1819

 A window seat in the Conwy castle

 A shop in Conwy

 Conwy architecture

 Fish and chips, skip the mushy peas

Welsh Lovespoon

After our coach breaking down and a long day of travel, we finally reached the Hotel Britannia in Manchester, England. The hotel was lavish compared to our Irish hotels, but it was also a bit seedy with old furnishings in the room, including an ancient mattress. Yet, I did appreciate the dining room and the generous buffet. Yes, I was eating once again.

Tidbits about my experiences in Ireland

The Glena House used rainwater instead of well or city water

In order to turn on the electricity in your room at The Hotel Aspect you had to insert your room key/card in a slot. They only give you one card, so you can’t leave the room without it.

All the pubs I patronized in Ireland had hair straightening irons in the women’s rooms. How thoughtful, and yet fleeting considering the 90% humidity.

The Irish people that I interacted with felt a real connection to the United States. Dermot, our Dublin tour guide, knew a plethora of facts about Irish Americans from the founding fathers all the way to the most recent Irish American soldier killed in Afghanistan (I felt ashamed that I did not know the soldier’s name).

The Irish take the weather in stride. While we were dogging raindrops like the Wicked Witch of the West, Dubliners merely raised their “brollies” or accepted that the drops would dry. Dermot calls a rainy day a “soft day.”

If you name begins with an O’ such as O’Connell it means that you are of the tribe of Connell.

Day 5 - Dublin

Sunday – July 1, 2012 – Dublin, Ireland

Last night we checked in our new hotel called the Aspect Hotel Park West. It was more modern and so more comfortable than the Glena House. The hotel is situated about 45 minutes outside of Dublin next to an empty shopping mall (I mean completely empty) which is grim evidence of the economic hardships in Ireland.

We still had Danny and our coach to ferry us to the city. Our first stop was to pick up our Dublin tour guide Dermot. Dermot was a very charming Irish gentleman with a shock of snow-white hair and a grand sense of humor. Dermot was blessed with the gift of gab. The first thing he showed us was a street in Dublin where there were some fine examples of the Georgian architecture. The apartment/townhouses were four stories high. The windows were larger on the bottom and smaller on the top for several reasons. One: the children’s rooms were near the top. Two: the servants lived on the upper floor. The servants also had a separate entrance at the bottom of the townhouse which led to a separate staircase ala Downton Abbey style. The doors on these buildings were exquisite! They had fan windows, heavy brass knockers, and were painted in all sorts of strong colors. The residences were worth millions.

Dermot then took us to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. The Cathedral was built in 1220 and is an Anglican church. The interior of the building looks more like a museum than a place of worship. There is an extensive touristy gift shop in the back and much of the décor is dedicated to prominent citizens and historical figures. Maybe I’m just used to Catholic churches and thus don’t understand the Anglican faith. What I liked best about the cathedral was the beautiful floors. They were covered with brilliantly colored and patterned tile floors.

 Georgian architecture in Dublin

 St. Patrick's Cathedral

 Phoenix Park

 Trinity College

 The National Library of Ireland

 Pillar base depicting monkeys playing billiards

 A Filipino leprechaun

 Grafton Pedestrian Street

Bangers and Mash

Next, Dermot showed us around Dublin. We cruised by the River Liffey and saw an interpretation of the river as a mermaid-like woman in a pool (Dermot called her the “Floozy in the Jacuzzi”). We also crawled up O’Connell Street while hearing about the infamous “troubles” and the ultimate independence from England for 26 counties out of 32. We then strolled through the vast, over 1,700 acres, Phoenix Park. The name conjures thoughts of Asian Artwork or perhaps Harry Potter, but the English mistook the Gaelic name (I can’t remember what it was) for the word phoenix. Located in the park are the president’s mansion, the American embassy, and the Dublin Zoo. We said our good-byes to Dermot and made our merry way to Trinity College.

We stood in line for about an hour waiting to see the Book of Kells, but it was a rare, sun-shiny day (for the moment), so we didn’t mind. Once inside I quickly received a tongue lashing for attempting to take a picture. The guard burned my skin off with a scathing look until I slinked out of his sight. The Book of Kells was amazing to see only because of its reputation and its history. It was ornate and beautiful, but it didn’t “move” me like amazing works of art sometimes do. What did amaze and move me was the library’s Long Room. It was the most breathtaking sight! The book stacks were on two floors with a wooden barrel ceiling. The stacks ran perpendicular to the center aisle, were 14 shelves high and there was a bust of a famous author or scholar at the end of each stack. The center aisle seemed to go on forever with the farthest stack looking like it belonged in a dollhouse it was so far away. The entire Long Hall was covered with rich brown wood and the books looked old, and leather-bound. I was truly in English teacher heaven. Oh, and the center aisle contained showcases of rare books; a few of the books I recognized from my art history classes.

We were then set free to explore Dublin on our own. I was happy to be free from the large group but I was still in charge of a group of three boys. I really wanted to tour the Guinness plant, but I felt it was my responsibility to see what the boys wanted to do. They were intent on seeing the bog people at the national museum. So we navigated the streets of Dublin dutifully checking our maps for accuracy. We arrived at the museum to find it closed until 12:00. We did discover that the library was open, so we meandered through the creative W.B. Yeats exhibit. The exhibit was so good that it rivaled exhibits I’ve seen at the Smithsonian. The boys were very quiet and attentive. When the national museum opened, we made our way to the bog people exhibit. Museum wandering must be a Sunday pastime for many Dubliners because there were many voices with a soft brogue as there were with foreign accents. After quenching the boys’ appetite for the macabre, we headed to the pedestrian street of Grafton. The street was full of street performers and other clever Dubliners trying to tempt Euros out of tourist’s pockets. One of the boys gave up some Euros to a man that cleverly made a platform with a leprechaun body. You stood behind the platform and stuck your head through the hole where the leprechaun’s face should be to get an amusing picture. I was captivated by one street performer who lit his limbo stick on fire and then proceeded to slink under the stick that looked to be 6 inches off the ground. I recorded this feat so I could show my students next year when we have our limbo contest. We met up with the rest of our group at the appropriate time and hoofed it to the Thunder Café for Bangers and Mash.

I was utterly exhausted by then, but that didn’t stop me from staying in Dublin past curfew for some pub action. It was the final game of the World Cup and all day I witnessed people draped in Spanish flags. So, Tim a mother in our group, and I walked around Temple Bar looking for a pub. We stayed in the very first one we entered. There was a duo playing guitar and singing their hearts out. Also singing their hearts out was an assortment of Dubliners. They were very uninhibited with their dancing, singing and overall merriment. I was completely enthralled by the atmosphere. There was a Hen Party (our equivalent of a bachelorette party) behind us and raucous sports fans all over. Of course the crooning duo sang Rocky Mountain High. We dragged our weary bones onto a double-decker bus to the Hotel Aspect. Along the way we befriended a young man who married a girl from Colorado. He met her online, like many of his friends met their loves, and couldn’t wait to get out of Dublin. Our trio was lamenting leaving Dublin.