After dropping Dougal off at his "spa," where he had been groomed the day before, I picked up Rick at his school, we drove home, and then headed off to the airport on the fabulous Edinburgh tram system (nearly £1 billion, and it only goes from downtown to the airport). Oddly enough, the fare to ride almost all of the system is only £1.50, but if you are going to the airport, which is only one very short stop away from the end of the regular fare system and to which the tram runs anyway, you have to pay £5. That last bit of the ride is sure expensive - and not particularly scenic.
Once at the airport, we discovered that our flight was delayed by 20 minutes, which considering we were flying with Ryanair, which is a notoriously cheap airline (they once floated the idea of making you pay to use the toilet on the plane), we just assumed is was business as usual for them. I turns out that we were soon to be victims of the computer crash in England that fouled most of the flights and had a knock off effect much further afield, so our 20 minute delay turned into a 90 minute delay. The only bright light in all this was that we spent most of the delay chatting with a lovely woman from Derry (home of Walter Cunningham, who came to Canada in the 1840s and started the dynasty that is the Cunninghams!).
Finally, after it was decided to give it a go and computers be damned, we were allowed to walk to our plane, as I guess Ryanair doesn't want to pay to be able to use one of those enclosed boarding gates, and there we sat, waiting for the door to be closed and for us to leave. We were all buckled up, but then were instructed to unbuckle as they refueled the plane. While we were glad they thought about providing enough fuel to get to Ireland, we were left wondering why they hadn't done that while we were waiting inside the terminal. We assume we unbuckled to be able to run from the plane in the event of some inferno if the fueling went wrong, which it didn't, I am pleased to report. It is a good thing that we aren't superstitious, as these all seemed a bit like portents, including that one of the cabin crew had the last name Lockerby!
Eventually, we arrived at Dublin airport, where Rick went through the EU border security and I went through the other security (Muggle, I assume). I think I can go through the EU line now, because when the officer saw my residency permit, he just mumbled something and away I went, passport unstamped. We took the bus into the city and enjoyed the walk up Grafton Street, all decked out in its Christmas finery, to our hotel. We stay at a rather expensive, but wonderful hotel overlooking St. Stephen's Green. When they check you in, they accompany you to your room to show you...well, I'm not really sure what they are supposed to show you, as hotel rooms are basically not that challenging to figure out. Still, it makes you feel special.
Off we went for supper, but then tragedy struck - we had a lousy meal with dreadful service!! Oh the problems of the first world! It turns out that if, while you are looking at a menu outside, someone inside a restaurant comes out to tell you that it is a great place, you shouldn't always believe them. Things started off well, as the place was attractive inside. We both ordered pizzas - mine was ok, but Rick's, which was 4 cheese, was just four cheeses on the crust - no sauce or anything - so it was like cheese on cardboard. During our meal, the service rather dwindled away, and by the end, we sat and sat waiting for our bill. Finally, I went to the till at the counter, where I was ignored by a person pushing buttons on the computer screen. Eventually, another woman, who was chatting with some other people leaving, took my payment but didn't really acknowledge me and certainly didn't even ask how the meal was or say goodbye when we left. I am pleased to report, though, that that was a one off and every other meal was great!
Saturday, our one full day in town, dawned sunny and quite mild, so off we went quite early, just to walk around and see what we could see, which is our main mission when we are there - just to wander and relax. Actually, I did have one goal for the day, and that was to visit a photography exhibit at the National Photographic Archive. For me, that show was the highlight of the trip and one of the best exhibits I have seen in ages. They were photographs taken in Limerick in the 1970s when it was a very depressed place and was about to undergo a major attempt at bringing it out of that state. The photographer mainly focussed on portraits of the Limerick-ians (?) at that time. In all honesty, Limerick in the 70s looked more like most other places in tthe 30s. Very compelling images and very emotional. I am pleased to report that Rick enjoyed the exhibit as well! Later that day, as I had thought about the show and the accompanying book, I decided that I wanted to go back to buy a copy, where good luck smiled on me as the photographer was there at that time and I now have a personally autographed copy.
Other than that "commitment," we just walked both north and south of the Liffy, dodging people as shoppers barge home with their presents. We had lunch at a converted church and supper at a converted bank, so you can't accuse us of not seeking out different things. In the evening, we visited the Christmas marked along one side of St. Stephen's Green, but it was basically a smaller version of the one in Edinburgh, and equally as unimpressive - it turns out that rather than offering lovingly handcrafted items (our expectation), most of the goods are unpacked from large cardboard boxes from places like Taiwan and China.
Rick hadn't brought his travel mug because, as he said, there aren't many Starbucks in Dublin. Well, guess again, as they are very plentiful and took every opportunity to point them out. Oh, how we laughed at Rick's decision! Actually, now that I think about it, oh how I laughed. Rick didn't seem to find it quite as amusing, for some reason.
After a lovely evening featuring some chocolate and whiskey, we had another good night's sleep, sans dog, and were well rested the next morning as we grudgingly headed off to the airport and our surprisingly uneventful trip home. Oh, and Dougal seemed no worse for wear after his weekend away as well.
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| Rick and... |
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| Bob, innocently enjoying their beer before the meal from hell! |
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| And this little piggy went "crackle crackle crackle" all the way to the dining table. At one of the many outdoor markets. |
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| At a different market, this time featuring bread, including our favourite... |
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| ...yes, it is Guinness bread!! Yum. |
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| Boy, you visit one photography exhibit and everyone becomes a photographer! |
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| A scene along the Liffy. On the left, a famine ship, and spanning the river, Rick's favourite bridge of all time - the Samuel Beckett. |
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| The Customs House. |
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| Rick relaxing in the hotel lobby. |
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| Nolag Shona Duit - Merry Christmas along Grafton Street, where you can shop until you drop, or get run over by some other shopper! |
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| The lovely decorations along Grafton Street. |
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| Former Bank of Ireland building lit up nicely. |
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| Inside The Bank restaurant - a beautiful building even when not decorated for Christmas. |
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| The Shelbourne Hotel - the grande dame of Dublin hotels. We didn't stay there. |
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| The view across the street as we waited for the bus to the airport. Both buildings are former banks - the one that is the restaurant is the one on the right. |
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| Dublin airport has sleeping pods, although you don't necessarily look that great when you are asleep and someone comes along with a camera! |
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| Inside the Ryanair cabin. The seatbacks contain the safety information that you get to stare at all through the flight. There are no seatback pockets, so you really don't take much with you to your seat. |
