October 14th
Arrived in Gatwick. We managed to get about an hour of sleep
each on the plane. See Why I don't like flying for a longer
explanation of the hell that is flying Trans-Atlantic. We stop at an ATM right away in order
to get some of the local currency. The English money is somewhat confusing. ![[Footnote36]](images/foot.gif){kind=small}
Took Connex to Victoria Station. There were two trains leaving Gatwick at about the same time. One of them was a non-stop to Victoria Station. We picked the other one. Of course this confused us, so we almost got off at the first stop, which would have really bollixed things up. Luckily, the station just didn't look busy enough, so I looked for the sign and realized we had to stay on the train.
Took the Tube from Victoria to Euston. Uneventful, except for being the last two people on the tube, and getting to hear the "Stand clear of the doors" announcement more than we should have. As it turns out we really didn't need to be in a hurry, but I was in my "get there now" mode, and it worked out okay. Thanks to all the nice folks in Orange Vests who pointed us the right way when we couldn't figure things out.
Got on a Virgin train to Crewe. We made the early one, and had time to talk to the nice gal manning (personing?) the Virgin Trains counter at Euston. She got us pointed in the right direction, and we even had enough time for me to step outside and look around a bit. Turns out this was the only time I'd ever be in Euston Station, so looking was good. It's not terribly impressive, though.
The train to Crewe was nearly empty in First Class. There were the two of us, a guy talking on his cell-phone: Excuse me, I'm heading into a tunnel. I'll have to ring you back. and one other person who was only there briefly. Virgin does First Class up right. I wasn't terribly impressed at the time, but after riding other trains, I came to appreciate them quite a bit. There were complimentary tea and coffee, and sandwiches just before noon. Without the caffeine from the complimentary beverages, I think we'd have been asleep.
This would be a good point to mention Dave's Travel Tips, which I'm writing up in parallel with the travelogue. Sitting on the train to Crewe, I realized that my hands had gotten filthy while transferring through London, and said to myself: Note: Bring Wetnaps.
We're out of city and in the country now. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be dead-tired by the time we reach Dublin, but managing to stay awake the whole way pretty much ensures killing off the jet-lag in one fell swoop. I'm a little envious of Jim, who's taking a RyanAir flight from London to Dublin (I think it cost him an extra $160), but this build character, right?
I'm very glad I figured out the details of this day before leaving home. It made navigating the train changes, etc. much simpler.
It's almost noon, and we're passing real farms now. The fields are small,
and most seem to be bordered by a hedge-row of some sort. None of the
hedges would actually contain a critter and they all have a wire fence in
them. Not terribly traditional, that.
Shortly after noon, and we've just driven into clouds. I fear we're losing our beautiful blue day, and hitting the clouds covering most of northern England, Wales and Scotland that we saw from the plane.
It's now 12:55 and we're waiting in Crewe for our next train. There's an old man with a tiny dog walking up and down the platform, and they make quite a sight. The dog takes about four or five steps, gets to the end of the leash, and then slides back a bit while the old man catches up. It's a good thing the platform is slick enough that the dog doesn't just pull itself apart at the end of the leash.
We didn't actually see any of Crewe while we were there. Only had a half-hour between trains, and we spent the whole time just sitting on a bench waiting. It did smell like farm country. Looked industrial from the tracks. Wonder what the industry is. There are murals in the train station extolling the virtues of Living and Working in Crewe and Nantwich but they were mostly of trains.
The train from Crewe to Holyhead is MUCH less posh than the one we took to Crewe. It's only got two cars, and there's no first class. It's fairly full, so apparently this train company guages the level of demand better than Virgin Rail does. This one makes the airplane feel spacious. First class is nice when it exists, but in this case.... Oh well, it's only a two-hour ride. All non-smoking, too. This one's operated by the First North Western, who don't seem to have a website. Seems fitting given the low-budget feel of the train.
It's odd blowing through country this quickly. A lot like driving on the interstate. It would be nice to have more time to stop and look at things, but we're on a mission to get to Dublin. In any case, the scenery here isn't particularly impressive. I hope it's better in Wales.
It's 14:00 now, and we're definitely in Wales. The place names suddenly have odd
combinations of consonants
and there's real terrain about. Unfortunately, it's still
overcast, and we're nearly asleep. I think we're going to have to drink some caffeine
in Holyhead and do a bit of walking around so we don't fall asleep and miss the boat.
We're just west of Rhyl, and we're passing the biggest trailer-park I've ever seen. The train's moving along at a pretty good clip, and we've been passing trailers for nearly five minutes.
Past Colwyn Bay, things are a lot more upscale. Traditional looking buildings and a large block of new apartments on the shore. And we're pulling out into the sun! We've left the overcast behind, and things look gorgeous. Brian doesn't seem too impressed, but I think he needs caffeine worse than I do.
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The Obelisk in Holyhead |
(23K) |
It's 15:15, and we've just arrived in Holyhead. We arrived in time so we could have caught
the Irish Ferries fast ferry to Dublin, but our ticket is for the Stena Line, so we have to
wait for almost three hours.
There's a cool looking obelisk overlooking the harbor, but
getting there looks like a real pain. It's real close, but there's fences and the car & truck
lanes for the ferry between us and it. Definitely not a hike I want to make while carrying
my luggage.
The first pictures of the journey get taken here. We've got plenty of time, and it seems like a good time to make sure the cameras work. Besides, it'll help us kill a few minutes. There's an obelisk and an old fortress that are on the hill above the harbor, and also some plants that just don't seem like they belong in this part of the world. Also the Edinburgh Castle (obviously a pub), which I was pretty sure was bigger and not located here in Wales. Sadly, the picture of it didn't turn out very well.
It's 17:35 and we're still waiting. This has been a killer wait. We wandered around a bit, looked at all the maps, etc that are available here, but there's just not two hours worth of stuff to do here without having a locker to leave the luggage in. And once we've checked in for the Stena ferry, we're stuck in the ferry waiting lobby, which has no beer. Oh, and our bags, which were fine for going in the overhead bin on the airplane, are too big to carry onto the ferry. Once we're actually on there, it makes sense, but they just didn't explain it very well at the gate, and put me in a bad mood.
The ferry itself (one of The Stena HSS) is pretty amazing. It's got the area of a football pitch,
and is designed to take extra money from you as you cross.
There's stores and bars and restaurants and the like. It's also a non-smoking ferry, with
the only smoking area being a small balcony at the stern, where you can watch the four
turbines churning the water. This boat is an impressive piece of machinery.
We end up taking advantage of a few of the bars, and after walking past McDonald's
a few times, I succumb to the french-fry smell (chips!) and end up ordering them from the
place next to the McDonald's. This is also where I buy my first postcards of the journey.
I've got quite a few people I promised I'd write, and a few who aren't expecting cards, but
I figure I should send them anyhow.
We're finally in Ireland! We arrived Dun Laoghaire
and immediately hit the ATM.
Stepping outside, the first beer sign I see is for Coors Light. I'm not sure this is a good
sign, but there it is.
ATMs are becoming a familiar ritual, since we've performed it now twice in the same day:
Enter a new country, clear immigration and customs, and then off to the ATM. The problem
is that this leaves us with severe ATM disease. At Victoria Station, this meant we had to
queue for a ticket for the Tube. Here it means that the bus driver who's taking folks into
downtown Dublin needs to scrounge change from the other passengers so he can break a
20 punt note for us. Eventually change is found, and we're on our way into Dublin.
We arrive downtown Dublin, and are dropped off at the O'Connell Bridge. We have to cross
the river, and get onto a 10 bus, which will take us to our B&B. Again, ATM disease strikes,
and we end up with 20p credit slips that the bus driver tells us we can exchange for money
or other tickets downtown.
We tell him we need to get off at the first stop
after St. Peter's, and the driver informs us that we're switching drivers in a few stops,
and we should tell the next guy. We do, but it turns out to be unnecessary. St. Peter's is
undergoing renovation, and has a large sign out front that I spot from the bus. The B&B is
less than fifty feet from the bus stop.
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The Charleville Lodge |
(38K) |
We're finally in the B&B. It's a pretty nice place called the Charleville Lodge, and the staff is friendly and helpful. We check in and head for the room. The beds are a bit short for a tall guy like me, but they still are very inviting, and it's not long before we're out cold for the night.
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