Tale of Two Parks

We visited two parks within the past couple of months, and I never sat down to write about them.  Thought I'd remedy that right now.

On March 8, I made my first visit to Ticknick Park which is a short walk from our house.

We saw a couple of kitties on the walk there.  One was huddled outside a patio door; I don't know if he lived there or if he were a stray looking for food/warmth.  The other kitty was inside one of the houses and had the most gorgeous sea-green eyes.

Someone's small front garden had some tulips and a butterfly bush, and there were daffodils lining the trail to the park entrance.

There are slopes in Ireland that seem almost imperceptible....until you're at the top and you feel your legs burning.  The road to Ticknick had one of those.

But near the top of the slope, I was rewarded with some pony frens who were out chilling in a pasture.

There was some signage which talked about bats.  They apparently have some bat houses up and said to look for them.  I didn't see any, but I didn't go that far into the park.

While Eli walked the trail, I went into a copse and found a spot to lie down and look up through the trees.  I was craving nature, craving a quiet spot where I could just listen to the wind and the birds and the land.

I couldn't get as connected as I wanted, distracted by the steady whoosh of cars going by on the M50.  Even so, I put my hand on the bare ground and cried, trying to absorb the steadiness of the earth.

Last autumn, Ticknick experienced a fire so there were patches of burned bushes and trees, which always makes me sad.  In the copse, many trees had been cut down.  I don't know if they did that as fire mitigation or what.

On June 20, we decided to visit the park near the Milltown LUAS stop.  It was mostly cloudy and a bit warm.

As we waited for our train, a tram heading in the opposite direction pulled up.  There was a baby sitting by the window, just staring at Eli.  Eli waved at him and as the tram pulled away, the baby finally waved back.

We walked to Grace O'Donnell Memorial Park on a willow-canopied trail that ran along the River Dodder.  Lots of people and their puppers were also out on the trail, and we had to step aside multiple times for joggers to pass by.

I bet you didn't know there were wild rhinos in Ireland, did you?  Here is the proof:

Apparently, this statue was installed during the middle of the night back in 2002.  No one knows where it came from; no one has taken responsibility for it.

At least in this area, the river was only about knee-deep.  There was a man and his dog in the water.  The man was throwing large rocks for the dog to chase.  Pupper thought this was a tremendous game - he'd run to the spot of the splash, then look back at his owner expectantly.  Owner would toss a rock in the opposite direction, and doggo would happily gallop through the water to reach the spot where it landed.

On the map, this waterfall is named both Ritu Falls and Dartry Park Waterfall.  In the second photo, you can see two ducks who were standing in the falls.  I imagine they were finding insects, small fish, or plant matter as they stayed there quite some time.

  

There was a couple walking a pair of dogs as we stood near the falls.  We always ask if we can engage with any doggos we encounter so we gave them a good pet.  Our accents betray the fact that we're probably not from Ireland, so the guy asked where we were from.  

We said we were from Minnesota in the US.  He said something about Trump, and I said, "We're here to get AWAY from that idiot."  And the guy smiled ruefully and with great understanding.

A tree near the waterfall had this cool fungus/shelf mushroom thing going on.  I thought it was pretty so I grabbed a photo.

There's a pub called The Dropping Well near the park, and right at the edge of the parking area, there's a shipping container that was turned into a coffee kiosk called Box'd.

We had passed behind it during our walk to the falls, and there was a cut-out of an ice cream cone on the back wall.  As we were leaving the park, we went around to the front side of the kiosk to get an ice cream treat.

There was a hand-written sign taped to the window stating that the ice cream machine was broken.

Eli looked at me and said, "Is Box'd Irish for McDonalds?"

The Birds

In my previous post, I mentioned that I had started putting food and water out for the birds.  Let me provide an update on how things are going.

This guy showed up.  It's only the second time I've seen a gull visit, which seems odd to me.  It's easy food, and none of the other birds dare approach while these big boys are around.

A couple of minutes after the gull departed, this happened.

I think we're gonna need a bigger boat.

This seems ominous for some reason, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

This and That

I haven't written anything for a little bit so I thought I'd better post some content.  Gotta keep my readers engaged, after all.

*****

A couple of weekends ago, we went to the Royal Marine Hotel in Dun Laoghaire, as it was hosting a pop-up market.  We had remarkably good bus-luck.  Got off the tram at Sandyford and our S8 bus arrived about four minutes later.

There was very little traffic heading into Dun Laoghaire, which seemed odd for an almost-Summer Sunday.  Maybe everyone was in church.  I wasn't complaining.

The market was being held on two floors of the hotel's conference space.  It wasn't too crowded so we were able to get close to the vendors' tables.  I always find myself getting overstimulated at these things - so much to look at, and I have a tough time zeroing my focus in on one particular area.

The only thing we bought were a couple of sweet treats from a vendor.  Some items are so pricey.  Don't get me wrong - I don't begrudge a creator for their pricing because I know a lot of work goes into some of these treasures.  However, I don't have €900 to spend on a painting of sheep, sir.

We ate our treats under a gazebo near the library and then walked along the coastline toward the bus stop.  The L25 bus came a few minutes later so we took that back into Dundrum rather than waiting for the S8.  At this point, there was a LOT of traffic headed toward Dun Laoghaire so I was glad we went when we did.

Eli wanted to go to the Polish market in Dundrum, so we headed there after getting off the bus.  He had been there before, I had not.  You wouldn't think I'd find much in a Polish market that I'd want to eat, but you'd be wrong.  I could have spent SO MUCH MONEY there.  It was a little tricky as many of the labels were in Polish; next time I visit, I'll need to employ a translator on my phone so I know exactly what I'm buying.

A school near Tully Park was having its annual festival which promised fun and food and ice cream and raffles, so we planned to head there in the afternoon.

There was a threat of rain so they moved everything indoors, which I didn't think would pose a problem.  But it very definitely posed a problem.

There was one entrance/exit open, and yet people felt it would be a grand idea to hang out on the stairs, blocking the way.  Once inside, it was chaos as you can imagine.  Hordes of children strung out on sugar and stimulation, people everywhere to the point you couldn't actually get near anything, no organizers handling traffic control to make things flow more smoothly.

We lasted about a minute, and then we were out.  Eventually.  After having to fight our way through idiots loitering around the entrance and the stairs.

Sorry, Cherrywood Educate Together National School.  We'll try again next year when maybe you'll be able to set up outdoors.

*****

I got some plant pots and soil about a month ago.  I'm sick of looking at this stupid construction wall and wanted to have something pretty to see instead.

I bought some bee bombs, which are flower seeds encased in little balls of clay.  You're supposed to be able to just throw them on the ground and as the clay gets worn away by rain, the seeds will take root.

Some of my bee bombs have appeared to be....well...a bomb.  I'm not sure if the clay isn't wearing away or what; I'm hopeful that maybe they'll break down at some point and release their seeds.  I do have some little green sprouts coming up so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they'll turn into actual flowers at some point.  I should've just bought loose seeds as they may've germinated more quickly.

*****

In their infinite wisdom, builders in Ireland (and much of Europe) have determined that there's no need to put window screens on any structure.  Most places don't have air conditioning and some places (like ours) don't even have a handling system to move air around, so people are made to open their screen-less windows if they want to be comfortable.

As you can imagine, bugs are delighted by this situation.  I do have to say, however, that we don't seem to have TOO many critters entering our home on a regular basis.  Until yesterday.

A bumblebee managed to bumble in through the ajar window, getting more and more agitated as she smacked up against the glass, buzzing furiously.  The noise activated Norris from his nap, so I was conversely trying to keep him away from the window and trying to keep the bee close to the window.  I got a piece of paper and attempted to shepherd her out, and she wasn't having it at first.  I was like "C'mon, honey, move a few inches to your right, and you'll be free."

Finally she figured things out and went buzzing away.  I shut the window after that.

*****

It has been hot here this week.  Granted, I realize that "hot" is a relative term.  It's been in the mid/upper 70s - unsure if it hit 80 here or not.  I know that Minnesota is currently staggering under temps in the 80s and 90s so my kvetching about 77 seems weak.

However, on sunny days when it's this warm, it feels like the sun is right on top of your head.  We're talkin' "I feel like I'm wearing a hat made of lava."

Eli and I have mused about this phenomenon.  We didn't know if it felt this way because Ireland is farther north than Minnesota or what.  That didn't seem like a complete or satisfying answer so I did a little research.

And yes, the sun DOES feel hotter here.  Ireland has a maritime climate, and it's constantly being swept by ocean breezes.  This removes a lot of pollution from the atmosphere, so the sunlight isn't filtered by dust and another particulate matter.  On one hand, yay, less pollution; on the other hand, the sun here is trying to kill me.

*****

Our backyard (or garden, as they call it here) is bereft of anything nature-like or beautiful.  It's got ugly wooden fences and a carpet of fake grass.

I HAVE to have nature around me.  At our house in Minnesota, we had nearly an acre of grass and trees.  Lots of critters came through - squirrels, chipmunks, birds, rabbits, deer (we were honored many times by Mama Deer leaving her baby in our yard because it felt safe to her).

Here....ugly wooden fences and fake grass.

So a few days ago, I started putting out food and water for the birds.  I didn't want to spend a lot on supplies - bought a Pyrex roasting pan for €10 to use as a birdbath and jury-rigged a cheap seed starter tray to a cupboard riser with unfurled paper clips to use as a feeder.  Put some seed and bird-safe peanuts out, filled the bath, and waited.

It took a little while for my efforts to be noticed but since then, we have been quite the hit.

The crows found it first, and they've been stuffing themselves with peanuts.  I'm still waiting for one of them to bring me a sparkly gift though.  Get on that, corvids.

We also have magpies pop in every now and again.  They don't seem as frequent as the crows, unless I just haven't seen them come in.

The group most thrilled with the set-up is the starlings.  Sometimes there will be one or two out there, but they enjoy showing up in double-digit numbers.  I think I counted 11 of them one day.

They're amusing to me because there will be "babies" out there (I put the word "babies" in quotations because they're the same size as the adults).  They will literally be standing on top of the seeds, beaks open and shrieking for an adult to feed them.  Sometimes they'll hop out of the feeder, go perch on the lip of the birdbath....and scream to be fed.

And they LOVE the water.  I haven't noticed the crows drinking, but the starlings are all about sipping the water and then getting in for a proper bath.  It looks like we've got a sprinkler going because they get some good height on those splashes.

This has also been good enrichment for the cats, who usually don't have much to look at here.  They'll perch near the backdoor or on the windowsill, ek-ek-eking at the birds coming and going.  That's been an added bonus.

Today for the first time (that I've witnessed), we had a gull getting a snack and a drink.  Patrick saw him fly in and jumped up on the windowsill.  The gull flinched but then just stared at Patrick and didn't budge.

And this is what I have to say:  Y'all, gulls are H-U-G-E.

Teenage Drama and Cows at the Airfield

On Saturday, Eli and I each had an eye exam scheduled at SpecSavers in the Dundrum Town Centre.  Mine was for 11 a.m., and his was for 11:10 a.m.

I know it might sound dumb, but eye exams create a lot of anxiety for me.  I don't like the air puff (not many do, I'm sure), and the whole "Which one is better, A or B?  Which one is better, 1 or 2?" thing is a gentle form of torture.  THEY BOTH LOOK THE SAME WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?

I got a text around 9:30 Saturday morning stating that my appointment needed to be cancelled due to staff illness.  Reprieve!  I'll still need to get my eyes checked, but it was nice to released from the task on this particular day.

I had planned to shop for some clothes so even though my exam was cancelled, I still headed out the door with Eli to make the trip.

We walked past the empty unit next to us, and I said I hoped no one moved in for a long time.  Eli said that maybe the person moving in would become my best friend.  I said that I'll probably never have another best friend in this life, and that the person/people moving in might be three times worse than the tenants on our other side.  In case you haven't noticed, I am sometimes very good at pessimism.

On the tram, we were seated near a man with a stroller.  I said hello to the young boy, and he had absolutely no interest in returning the greeting.  The man - I assume the dad - told him to say hello, and he wasn't having it.  I said, "You don't have to say hello to me.  It's okay to be shy.  I was shy when I was a kid too and didn't like talking to strangers."  I was proud of the way I handled the situation.  I hate it when parents try to force their kids into doing something they don't want to do (give someone a hug, say hello, etc.)  If a child is being rebelliously rude or something, yes, by all means, go ahead and give the kid some direction.  But otherwise, if that child doesn't want to say hello, don't make them do it.

I wished I had a small trinket or toy to give him, just to spread some joy.  I thought about the little plush toys I'd seen while browsing the Ikea website which were only about €2 each.  The idea popped into my head that I needed to start some kind of venture that gave toys to people to provide some smiles and some light.  I'll need to give that notion more thought because it was a loud, insistent whisper, and I've learned not to ignore those when they come.

As we were about to detrain, I said goodbye to the boy and waved.  We were blessed by a small smile and a wave from him, which made my heart happy.

We were early for Eli's appointment, so we sat down on a bench near SpecSavers.  Gino's Gelato was right across from our seating area.  There was a huge mountain of vanilla gelato in one of the bins, and I told Eli I wanted to go and just smush my face into it.  Gelato is sooo good.  Quite pricey though so definitely a treat you have only once in a while.

Around 11, Eli got up to go check in for his appointment, and I wandered down to Penney's to look for jeans.  That took all of about 15 minutes since Penney's does not seem to cater to larger people.  I wandered around Dubray's and Easons (book stores) and then parked myself back on the bench, content to people watch.

A man walked by wearing a Golden State Warriors cap, and another one passed me wearing a Chicago Cubs jacket.  I'm not sure why it always startles me to see someone here with some kind of US-sports-related apparel, but it does.  (As a sidenote:  Someone needs to explain to me why so many people here wear a damned NY Yankees hat.)

Eli texted me to state that they needed to dilate his eyes to get a good reading on one of the tests so his appointment was going to last a bit longer than normal.  I thought about wandering around some more to kill time but wound up staying put.

A few minutes later, a woman sat down next to me.  She had all the outward signs of someone who was upset about something - looked distraught, kept bowing her head with fingers resting on her brow.  Even so, I still would've known.  As as empath, there are many times I can feel a person's emotions.  Feelings radiate from someone almost like an aroma, as strange as that sounds.  I can't smell those emanations in a literal sense, but they're in my face unbidden all the same.

I watched her from the side of my eye, planning to offer a tissue if it appeared she had given in to tears.  I wanted to ask her if she were okay and warred with myself over if that seemed intrusive or not.  In the end, I mentally sent peace and comfort to her instead.

Moments later, she shyly asked if she could ask me a question.  When I consented, she asked if I had a teenaged boy.  I said I didn't but that I'd be glad to listen to whatever was going on to cause her distress.  I said I might not have any advice to give, but sometimes just talking about something could be helpful.

For context, her family is from Libya.  She stated that her teenaged son wanted an iPhone (€1500).  Rather than just giving it to him, she and her husband stated that they wanted the son to start learning Libyan.  An agreement was made that in exchange for the phone, the son would read/learn 20 sentences of Libyan per week.

The son did not follow through on his end of the agreement, so his father wanted to take the phone back.  As you can imagine, this set all kinds of drama in motion.

At some point, the son trotted out that old chestnut:  "I hate you, and you don't love me."  He also said they were forcing him to learn a language he didn't want to learn.

It was obvious that she was quite upset by this situation, and she asked for advice.

I told her that I was basing my response on only one side of the story but that she and her husband had done nothing wrong.  "He entered an agreement that he would study the language in exchange for the phone.  He did not hold up his end of the bargain, and he needs to learn that there are consequences to actions he takes.  If you let him keep the phone even though he didn't follow through, you will be doing him a disservice because he will get eaten alive once he gets out into the world on his own.  You also did not force anything on him.  He agreed to study so he could get the phone.  If he didn't want to learn the language, he shouldn't have agreed to the deal."

Although I can imagine it hurts when your child says he hates you, I advised her not to take it to heart.  "There is probably not a child on this planet who hasn't said that to a parent.  It's usually a form of manipulation to make a parent feel guilty and cave in."

She said they were going to have continued conversations, and I told her "There doesn't need to be a huge amount of drama.  He committed to something, he didn't honor the commitment, and now there will be a consequence."  Perhaps this is simplistic, but I don't think it needs to be more complicated than that.

Eli had joined us somewhere during our talk.  I said something about teenage boys being horrible and got confirmation from Eli that yes, indeed, boys at that age can be terrors.  Although I gave my opinion that I thought teenaged girls were worse.  Boys use a blunt instrument on you; girls use tiny little needles that get under your skin.

We engaged her further on her story, and she talked about how bad things were getting in Libya.  I'm not sure how we got on the topic, but she said when she was younger, her family wanted her to go into medicine.  She wanted to sing or be a creative, but she became a doctor instead.  I said that I hoped she was finding time to sing or something during her off-hours, and she said she was.

Her phone rang as we were talking, so she looked at it with a bit of a grimace.  She showed the screen to us and said, "That's my son calling."  She answered the call and said she'd see him in a minute (he and his father were also in the mall).  As he approached, she looked at us with a small smile and said "Pray for me."  She introduced her son once he arrived, and then they were off.

It's interesting because on Friday, I had the thought that I want to be a lightworker.  I know that sounds woo-woo or something but honestly, it just describes someone who wants to share healing and knowledge and love with the world.  Quite frankly, I've always been a lightworker and just didn't realize it - I feel different from others, am drawn to helping people, am sensitive to energy, am a healer, am connected to nature, and feel like an old soul.  So I've been assigned the role, but I haven't really done a good job in fulfilling my duties.

I want to be driven by light and joy rather than by hate and rage.  I have been so angry for such a long time.  The evil chaos taking place in the world right now is overwhelming to me.  So much unnecessary suffering is being perpetrated by vile creatures cosplaying as human beings, and it makes me sick.  I have every right to be furious and hateful these days, but I also need to be mindful about combatting that with peace.  People are desperate for goodness right now, and I need to do my part in providing some.

I also want to give a shout-out to the Universe for causing Eli's appointment to run longer than it otherwise would.  If he'd gotten out of the exam without delay, I would've missed having that interaction and missed being able to (hopefully) bring comfort to a suffering human.

Considering I was quietly shaken by the whole lightworker idea the day before, it seemed fitting that I had the chance to fulfill my mission less than 24 hours later.

With dilated eyes for one of us and a full heart for the other, we headed to Nando's for lunch.  How can they make plain ol' chicken taste so darned good!  I had a medium peri-peri spice/sauce for my chicken breast, and it had a nice little kick to it.  Eli had ordered some spiced nuts as a starter.  I had a couple of those, and they had some heat that snuck up on you as well.

On the walk back to the tram at Balally, I pointed out the following sign.  I said "Why does the sign for an airfield have a cow on it?"

Once we got home, Eli did a little research.  This place is actually a farm.  The house was built in 1830 and was named Airfield Estate a few years later.  I thought perhaps the family name was Airfield but no - it was just a name given to the place.  I read a little more about it and was tickled after learning about two daughters from one of the families who had owned it.  Letitia (1880-1977) and Naomi (1900-1993) were considered eccentric because they enjoyed driving their pre-war cars around and refused to sell the land for development (when their father died, he left most of his money to the women in the family, which was pretty rare for that period).  I was like "They weren't eccentric.  They were just enjoying living their damned lives!"

The estate has various events and activities.  I saw they offer a bat walk once a month, so Eli and I will need to check into that.

Later that day, we had this creature show up on our doorstep.

Apparently, the Universe has put a homing beacon on our house because this is the third cat we've had visit within the past month.  Mid-April, there was Yaya (who got reunited with his family).  About a week after that, another kitty showed up and was eating like she had never been fed before.  She had a microchip, and a local vet was able to track down the owner.  Nope, the kitty always returned home at night so she wasn't a stray.  Her name - get this - is Jill.

This kitty, however, doesn't have a microchip and eats like she's starving.  She will hop up onto the living room windowsill and stare in at us.  When I get up to move to the kitchen to get her food, she tracks me - looks in the door as I pass through the foyer and then jumps onto the kitchen windowsill to stare at me while I get her food ready.

I've posted her photo on a few Facebook lost/found pet sites so if she belongs to someone, I hope they see it and get in touch.

All in all, it was a very good day.

The Story of the Visitors

After we moved to Ireland, my mom determined that she wanted to visit us here.  All the machinations, all the planning, came to fruition on Monday (April 13).

We took the tram to Ranelagh and de-trained, intending to take the Dublin Express coach to the airport.  We had considered multiple options for getting to the airport:  taxi, city bus, etc.  However, the Express coach seemed like the most expedient way to get there.  The city bus would've been the cheapest option, but would've taken the longest as the buses make multiple stops.  The taxi would've gotten us there rapidly but would've cost quite a bit.  The Express coach only cost €20 total (the taxi would've been 2-3 times more).  It arrived on-time, was pretty comfortable, and only made a couple of stops for other passengers before heading for the airport.

I was feeling good about this choice...and then we entered a tunnel.  One of the things you might not know about me is that I'm terribly claustrophobic.  When I'm traveling through a tunnel, all I can think is that it's going to collapse and I'm going to be trapped.  [I remember Lissa and I driving to Duluth once, and our route took us through a short tunnel.  I mentioned my fear to her, and she said "If that happened, we'd be crushed and die pretty quickly."  My droll response was "I'd probably get an air pocket."]

I shut my eyes and focused on my breathing.  The tunnel had skylights that strobed as we passed beneath them so even with my eyes closed, I could tell we were still in the tunnel.  And it went on and on and on and on.  It was the longest-ass tunnel I've ever been in.  I'm grateful we never had to stop for clogged traffic because I probably would've clawed my way through the window and walked to daylight.

At the airport, we had some confusion as the bus stop was right outside the building that basically housed the car park, and we needed to get into the terminal.  Eventually, we figured things out and made it to our destination.  We were quite early, so we got a snack at Insomnia (coffee shop) and then sat in the arrival hall.  After a bit, Eli went to scout out the taxi stand, as we would be grabbing a cab to get to the hotel.

Mom was accompanied by her travel-savvy friend Barb so I had little concern about her taking such a long and involved flight.  They were flying IcelandAir, stopping over in Reykjavik for a couple hours before continuing to Dublin.

Happily, their flight arrived 20 minutes early.  Unhappily, Mom's bag didn't make it.  She had not planned to bring a checked bag, only bringing a roller bag and her purse.  However, IcelandAir determined her roller bag was just a tad too long and told her she'd have to check the bag.  Aside from the fact this cost $130, it would've been fine - IF THEY HAD ACTUALLY PUT THE FREAKIN' BAG ON THE FREAKIN' PLANE!

Eli and I were standing near the doors leading into the arrival hall, and his phone rings.  It's Barb letting us know that they've been delayed because Mom is having to fill out paperwork regarding her missing bag. IcelandAir only has one flight a day to Dublin, so her bag wouldn't arrive until the following day.

Eventually, they made it to where we were waiting, and there were hugs all around.  We ambled to the taxi stand, and then we were off.

During the drive, we were talking about the complexities of the Irish language.  I was trying to say Dia Dhuit (hello) and was pretty much mangling it.  Our Irish cabbie pronounced it for us, and I said, "You'll probably be glad to get these people out of your car since we're screwing up the language."

We walked into the Clayton Hotel in Leopardstown, and since I was paying for the stay, I moved to the reception desk while everyone else relaxed in the lobby.  Considering I would be taking the stairs to their room [no elevator for THIS gal], I was keeping my fingers crossed to have a lower floor.  The guy checking in next to me was on the first floor; I was given keycards to a room on the....sixth floor.  I almost felt like tackling the other guest and wrestling his first-floor keycard away from him.

Fourteen flights of stairs later, I arrived at room 628.  We pointed out the little idiosyncrasies of the room (no outlets or light switches in the bathroom, have to keep a keycard in a reader by the door or the lights will turn off after a while) and then headed for the tram.

We know how exhausting a travel day can be so we decided that Monday night would be a time to relax.  We ordered pizza and sat chatting while we waited for it to arrive.  Patrick was happy to be in Barb's and Mom's lap; Norris, who had raced upstairs to hide, came down but was too skittish to approach.

After stuffing ourselves with pizza and mini muffins, we made the tram ride back to the hotel so our guests could settle in after dinner.

Tuesday

Eli and I stepped out into a grey, misty, windy morning.  As we took our usual path to the tram, we were blessed with a Babby sighting.  (Babby is the neighborhood cat who lives in a house one street over from us.)  It looked like she was hunting, but she gave a big stretch and came over for pettings.

We collected our visitors from the hotel and started for Heuston Station, riding first the LUAS Green Line before walking a block or two to catch a LUAS Red Line tram that took us right alongside the station.

Inside we found seats, watching pigeons strut around looking for crumbs.  There was a piano near the seating area and when we arrived, a young person was absolutely killing Für Elise.  And by "killing," I mean "murdering the tune so badly I fully expected Beethoven to come lurching through the station doors to put a stop to it."

I couldn't handle sitting there so I moved across the station to look around the small bookstore.  Wound up buying Marcus Aurelius' Meditations and a cute keychain that had three dangling shamrocks.  After that, I went to a food market called Fresh and got a bunch of snacks for the trip.

Our boarding time arrived, and we began the hike to the train that would spirit us to Galway.  We walked and walked and walked...and walked some more.  I began to believe we would be walking all the way to Galway.  Eventually, coach E came into view and we boarded, finding the seats with our names helpfully glowing on an LED panel above the window.

The 2.5-hour ride took us past green hills, stone fences, ruins of ancient structures, wind turbines, cows, horses, and sheep.  It's lambing season, and we saw so many tiny little nuggets during the trip, delighting in watching them play or just rest near their mothers.

Barb had wanted to visit the Aran Sweater Market, and Eli wanted to show us the Spanish Arch so we took a short bus ride that let us out near both of these attractions.

The market had many beautiful (expensive) things.  Everyone but me bought something from the shop:  Barb got a couple sweaters, Eli got some gloves, and Mom got a jute tote bag with a cute sheep print.

Who's this guy messing up my photo of the shop?

The Arch was right across the street, so we headed in that direction.

From Galway Tourism:  The Spanish Arch was built in 1584 but is an extension of the 12th century Norman-built town wall, which stretched from Martin’s Tower to the riverbank. It housed soldiers who kept watch and manned cannons on the roof. Constructed by Wylliam Martin, the 34th mayor of Galway, it was first known as Ceann an Bhalla (‘the head of the wall’) but later became known as the Spanish Arch. This misnomer is thought to be a reference to the former merchant trade with Spain and Spanish galleons, which often docked here. In medieval times, European ships carrying cargo of wine and spices sold their goods at the docks. In fact, Christopher Columbus visited in 1477.  In 1755, The Spanish Arch was partially destroyed by a tsunami. In the 1800s, the Eyre family added the Long Walk extension. Until 2006, The Spanish Arch housed the Galway City Museum, which has now moved to a new location 50 yards away behind the original museum building.

I don't think the construction fencing is part of the original structure

The street around the corner from the sweater market was full of shops and restaurants.  We walked up a length of it, looking at menus to see which restaurant would be a good fit for lunch.

We decided on a place called Sonny Molloy's, a dark atmospheric whiskey bar that had a decent menu.  The staff was friendly and attentive, and the food was good.  I had bangers and mash, Mom had beef and Guinness stew, Barb had fish and chips, and Eli had veggie chili loaded nachos and chips.

Happily stuffed, we boarded another bus that would take us to Salthill Promenade on Galway Bay.  Barb collected some sand and snapped some photos.  I walked to a breakwater, watching the waves and listening to the bay.

We spent some time looking out over the water before making our way across the street to the Circle of Life Commemorative Garden.  It was created to honor and commemorate people who had been organ donors.

It's a beautiful and tranquil space, particularly on this day when we were basically the only visitors present.

There was a curved bowl of rock near this small water feature that was full of stones.  The sign invites people to drop a stone into the water in remembrance of their loved one.

At this point in the story, I will need to direct you to a different post.  Something so miraculous and unbelievable happened while we were there, and it deserves its own post.  Go to the post called "The Story of Circle of Life" and then come back here.  Here's a link to that post:  Irish You Were Here: The Story of Circle of Life

Okay, now that you've read that, we'll continue with our Galway adventure.

We hopped back on the bus and traveled to Eyre Square, wanting to be near the train station as our departure time drew closer.  This is a green space dotted with trees and a lot of birds.  Pigeons and gulls are smart enough to consider people a source of food, and there were a few kerfuffles when someone tossed a scrap that got descended on by a flock of squawking gulls.

Our arrival time in Dublin was scheduled for around 8 p.m. which is a bit late to have supper.  Before heading for the station, we grabbed something we could eat on the train and readied ourselves for the trip east.

Before we pulled away from the station, I made use of the facilities.  I was trying to get the water to turn on when a loud recording started blaring "Smoking is prohibited in this area.  Staff have been alerted."

I flew out of that cubicle very quickly, planning to douse my hands with sanitizer since I couldn't get the water to flow before I was rousted by that message.  There was a woman standing right outside the bathroom, looking at her phone.  I said "I wasn't smoking!" and she grinned and said "Run!"

The trip back to Dublin was thankfully uneventful, and we walked to the LUAS platform, planning to retrace our earlier journey.  A man sitting on the shelter bench was smoking and I moved away because I can't deal with the smell of smoke.  I could hear him railing about something and noticed he had a half-empty bottle of liquor sitting on the bench beside him.  Eli later told me that he was holding court about how terrible the current US president is, saying that Trump wants to put himself above God but that God and Mary control the world.

I saw the tram was approaching, and I went back to touch Eli's shoulder and let him know we could leave shortly.  I went to stand nearer the tracks, and the guy next to me smirked and said, "You saved him," meaning Eli.

During the day, we'd received notification that Mom's missing bag had been delivered to our house.  So Eli, gem that he is, continued on to the house to collect her luggage and bring it back to the hotel.  I walked Mom and Barb to the hotel and then waited to go back with Eli after he delivered the bag.

Wednesday

We were scheduled to eat breakfast at the hotel with our visitors before embarking on a boat tour of the River Liffey.

As with the tale of our trip to Galway, there is another necessary detour you'll need to take to a post titled "The Story of Yaya."  Or as I call it, Miracle #2.  Here's a link to that post:  Irish You Were Here: The Story of Yaya

Now that your heart has been sufficiently warmed, we can continue.

Obviously, we had to pivot from our original plan for the day.

As Eli and I had planned to eat at the hotel, we were both famished after our two-hour ordeal with Yaya by the time we reconnected with Mom and Barb.  We went to The Pantry, which is one of our favorite restaurants.  As we were waiting for our food, we filled in the details of our morning.  They knew the bare bones of what was happening but not all of the facts.  When I got to the part where I relayed that Yaya's young owner was autistic, I started to cry.  The story was sad enough to begin with but learning that fact just broke my heart.

After eating, we caught a bus to Dún Laoghaire and then boarded a DART train, headed for Bray and the Irish Sea.  I mentioned that my new keychain had three (lucky) shamrocks - one shamrock was for the miracle in Galway and one was for the miracle of Yaya.  I said maybe we'd see a mermaid in Bray, and that would be the third miracle.

Leaving the DART station, we saw a sign for the Mermaid Theatre and a shop called Mermaid Florists.

Eli, Mom, and Barb parked themselves on a bench on the promenade, and I braved the fierce wind and rocky beach to go down to the sea. It would've been perfect - except for the screeching teenagers that were right behind us while we sat and looked at the water.

We caught a different bus for the return trip on the route that has a stop right near our house.  During our transit home, the sky blessed us with a huge, bright rainbow.

Barb and Mom both said they were fine with the change of plans because they were worn out from the trip to Galway, so they were glad our day turned out as it did.  We ate leftover pizza for dinner and talked for a while before returning them to the hotel.

Thursday

St. Patrick's Cathedral and Dublin Castle were on the docket for the day.

St. Patrick's was our morning adventure.  We took the tram to St. Stephen's Green and caught a bus to the cathedral.

With soaring architecture and a plethora of stained glass windows, it's truly a sight you need to see in person to appreciate.  Pictures don't really do justice to the place.

Scattered around the cathedral were racks with votive candles.  I put a €2 coin in the donation box and lit a candle for Lissa (hers is the bright light on the top right).  I said that neither of us were Catholic, and Eli pointed out that the church wasn't Catholic either (it started out Catholic but then changed to Anglican).

After the cathedral, we traveled to St. Stephen's Green so they could see this wonderful park.  We sat near the water feature, watching gulls and ducks and swans gliding around the surface.  We moved deeper into the park so they could see all the blooming flowers and fountains.

Eventually, hunger called so off we went to a place called Thunder Road.  We had gone there when Eli's college friends visited last year, so we knew the food and atmosphere was acceptable.  We were actually seated at the same table that we'd had during his friends' visit so Eli took a photo of the picture hanging on the wall by the table and asked his friends if they remembered it.

After lunch, we had time to kill before storming the castle so we paid a visit to one of my favorite places:  Hodges Figgis bookstore.  None of my compatriots were as interested in browsing so eventually, the three of them went next door to have a cup of tea at Pret a Manger.

I traversed all three floors (didn't buy anything but it's always fun to look) before saying goodbye. 

Outside the entrance, there was an unhoused person huddled by the door.  She asked me if I could spare any money, and I said I don't carry money.  Then she asked if I could buy her something to eat.  I wanted to say no, but my soft heart overtook my vocal cords and I wound up saying yes.  I asked what she wanted, and she asked for a chicken sandwich from McDonald's, some fries, and something cold to drink.

I wasn't sure where McDonald's was located so I went to Pret a Manger and asked Eli to help me find it.  Turns out it was just down the street and around the corner, so I ordered a chicken sandwich meal and got her some bottled water.  Cost me all of €6.

Eli went back into Pret, and I walked over to give this gal her lunch.  She thanked me and asked for my name.  I told her, and she said her name was Sabrina and that she was homeless and trying to get back on her feet.  I wished her well and turned to walk back to Pret.

A man wearing a bright yellow work vest and carrying something (perhaps he was a City worker?) was walking beside me and he said, "I work hard and nobody ever buys me McDonald's.  These people are gypsies, and it's their culture to come through and scam money off people.  I'm sorry you wasted your money."

I didn't really know what to say because I was not expecting to be faced with these remarks.  If I'd been thinking clearly, I would've asked for his name and his department so I could report him for being a racist jerk.  And I was irritated because I felt good after helping that woman but his words made me feel stupid and gullible.

Later in the evening, I came to the conclusion that I'd rather help someone who didn't really need it than to turn away from someone who was suffering.

A brief bus ride brought us to Dublin Castle.  Eli and I had visited the castle the first year we were here, attending a Christmas market.  From what I can recall, our bus dropped us off near the entrance to the courtyard.  This time around, I think we got off at a different stop because we seemed to be at the back of the place.

There's a lot of construction related to the castle, and the signage pointing us to the entrance was sorely lacking.  We slogged our way along and eventually found the courtyard.

The cobblestones in the courtyard are very uneven, which makes for an uncomfortable walk.  I don't remember my feet hurting the first time we'd visited but during this trip, my dogs were barking.

I had printed our entrance ticket but wasn't sure where to go to check in, so I went to the Tickets counter.  The gal scanned it in, gave me wrist bands for the group, informed me I'd have to lock up my backpack in a (free) locker, and said to wait in the entranceway for the tour guide.  Nothing was marked clearly so it was a bit of a befuddlement trying to figure out where to be.

Our guide Audrey arrived, and our first point of interest was outside.  So it was back over the cobblestones twice more.  She took us through rooms that Eli and I had already seen, but I appreciated hearing the history of various objects.  I've read a bit about Ireland's past, so I already knew that England had treated Ireland poorly for centuries, and some of things she pointed out just reinforced that opinion.

Our tour let out around 5 p.m.  We knew that the trams would be packed at that hour, so we'd planned to kick around City Centre for a while, waiting for the tram commuters to thin.  However, we were all flagging by this point, so we decided to get a taxi back to the hotel.

While we were standing on a side street waiting for our ride, I was watching two people across the street from us.  They were crouched on the steps with their backs to the street.  I couldn't see what they were doing.  They stood up, and the guy opened up his coat.  The woman leaned into the shelter of the coat and a plume of smoke emerged.  Some kind of drug, I imagine - perhaps marijuana?  After a few minutes, the couple ambled up the street.

Our cab pulled up.  It wasn't super small but the backseat had an odd ceiling-to-seat ratio, and Eli couldn't even get his head in.  I had planned to sit in the front seat, so we switched and that worked out alright.  It was a bit close, but I opened the window and that helped it feel a little more open.

The drive took us up the same street Eli and I had been on when we caught the Express bus to the airport on Monday, and we passed the same bus stop.  It made me giggle because a business near the stop was called "Deja Vu."

The hotel has a couple restaurants, and one of them is basically their atrium.  We were sitting on lounges trying to determine what to do for dinner, and a server came over, asking if we wanted menus.  We initially said no, and then it was difficult trying to catch someone's attention again to procure said menus.  Eli, Mom, and Barb all had the soup of the day, and Eli had a side of potato wedges.  I was still full from lunch so I didn't have anything but water.

I felt like I'd been wrung dry.  I am the opposite of a "people person" and all the extroverting had completely decimated my energy.  We didn't stay long at the hotel because everyone was pretty wiped out.

Friday

Since we hadn't been able to have breakfast at the hotel on Wednesday, we decided to reschedule it to Friday.

The spread was just as impressive as the buffet I had experienced at the Clayton Hotel in Charlemont back in December.  Fixins for a full Irish breakfast, pastries, breads, cereal, yogurt, charcuterie, juices, fruit, coffee, tea.  I had not one but two pain au chocolat; they were flaky but moist at the same time.  Soooo good!

Eli had asked them to share their favorite parts of the trip.  After they gave us their highlights, I said, "Here I thought you'd say it was my sparkling personality.  I light up any room I walk into."

As we were winding up our meal, I looked over at the patrons who had seated themselves at the table next to ours.  I smirked and leaned over to tell Eli to take a look at the guy sitting behind him.  He turned to see the man wearing a Philadelphia Flyers baseball cap.  When we got up to leave, Eli went over to the guy and said "Nice hat" while putting out his hand for a fist bump.  The man gave a huge smile and returned the bump.

I hadn't planned to make the trip to the airport.  If we had been able to accompany our guests to the gate and sit there for a while, it would've been different.  But this was basically just dropping them off at the terminal and turning around to head for home.  Too, I was concerned that the taxi might be a tight fit again so I felt the passengers might appreciate the extra space.

We stood in front of the hotel, caught in that awkward and emotional process of saying goodbye.  Mom and I hugged, and then I hugged Barb.  When the taxi pulled up, Mom gave me another hug.  They piled into the taxi, and I started the walk to the tram that would take me home.

Once I found out Mom would be visiting, it was never far from my mind that this might be the last time I'd see her in person.  Then again, if Ireland has taught me nothing else (especially this week), it's that nothing is impossible and magic exists.

Mom brought me this trove of exotic gifts from the Old World. 

(I CAN get Kraft Mac and Cheese here, but it costs anywhere from €3-5 per box.)

Barb is an avid quilter, and she gifted us with this beautiful table runner.

I'm planning to hang it on the wall so the cats can't somehow destroy it.