A Farewell to Dublin: Back Across the Irish Sea to Great Britain

Under heavy gray clouds, we took a taxi to the port this morning to board our ferry for Great Britain.  We could not have taken the bus even if we had wanted to since the bus drivers went on strike as of nine last night protesting the fact that the light rail drivers received a higher raise than the bus drivers have been offered.  The disparaging comment the taxi driver made about the light rain people was "All they have to do is open doors."  Anyway, the bus drivers have shut the buses down for a couple of days and the roads were crowded with cars this morning.

We boarded the Jonathan Swift a few minutes early and cleared the harbor quickly.  Today as I travel, I am thankful that almost everyone at home has power again.  My church is on my heart as I read emails that the church has lost two members this week.  I know that my church family will be doing all they should to help the families through this time.

By 8:50 a.m., the last wee bit of Ireland slipped from view and we settled down to watching the pale sea green sea under the fog slip by.  Not long out of harbor, we passed the Ulysses which left 45 minutes before we did.  In less than an hour, we were happy to see the fog lift and blue streaks appear in the sky.

By now, we were feeling a little chop.  It was a little too wobbly for me to spend our last Euros in the gift shop.  Klep took it and turned it into pounds.  We sat and people watched.  We had a couple of bikers sitting across the lounge from us decked out in stereotypical biker gear including leathers and some chains.  They were probably doctors or something like that on holiday.

Before docking in Holy Head, Wales, it was smooth sailing again with bright blue skies.  We quickly cleared immigration and boarded the first of the two trains we would have to take to get back to London.  We enjoyed seeing all the fascinating signs for/ the villages and towns in Wales.  When we went over, we did not stop in these places.

One of the villages has the longest name of any village.  I can not even begin to pronounce it! 

We changed trains at Chester.  We think, from the difference in the name from all the others we had passed through that we were now in England

By this time, our muffin we had on the ferry was totally gone and Klep went in search of food.  We dined sumptuously on a two cheese and pickle sandwich with crisps.

Eventually the villages, the neat squares of farm land, the sheep in the fields, drying hay all gave way to urban sprawl as we approached Euston Station in London.

We trudged to the taxi level, got in queue for taxi to ride to our hotel through rush hour traffic. 

Now our little London adventure begins.  Tomorrow will be a slow day for us as we make plans, catch our breath, and spend a little time riding the hop on hop off.  Since we visited London with our sons thirty years ago, we have done many of the traditional things.  This time, we will choose some others.