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.
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.
