Ferry, cross the Irish Sea

Ferry, cross the Irish Sea
Nefyn, United Kingdom

Nefyn, United Kingdom

Last night’s goodbye turned out to be temporary. I spent plenty of time in Howth before heading to the ferry port for about 9. So early, and presumably out of step with any arrivals or departures, that the port was pretty much deserted. I congratulated myself on finding the port without needing to use the toll tunnel (you can get obsessed with avoiding tolls, it seems) and pulled in to the services. Wandering to wash my hands I wondered if they had wifi, and they did, so I left the iPod connecting.

Sitting down in the small lounge with chocolate, thinking that I might as well be here for some time, perhaps with the laptop, sorting out the blog, I checked the email that was coming in.

There’s one from Linda, still in Dublin. Flight not rearranged and it turns out she is, in fact, about a mile and a half away. I dragged my brain out of its comfortable ‘here for a bit’ feeling, checked the map and decided it was worth driving in to the centre. I’ve had a blind spot with town/city centres throughout, feeling that taking the car in would be a pain, and nearly parked in the first free spot I saw. It turned out, though, that there was free parking right in the middle and I walked to the hostel.

The burly bloke on reception was a little intimidating, but seemed to understand that my ‘friend has sent me an email saying she’s staying here, can I have a look?’ was important, and took me to the communal gardens and her room. Both empty of Lindas, but he was saving himself for a flourish. As we walked to the exit he added “there is a tv room, too”, diverting me that way. And there, sat in a corner, journaling while the TV spouted unhelpful content, she was. Burly man left us to it, I think with some sense that this was not a standard meeting. We had to have another goodbye, of course but first could Bam! and potato/pohtato our way around Dublin.

Jeannie Johnston, ship, in the dark of night
Jeannie Johnston.

I headed back to Dublin port around midnight. Again ferociously early, but saving last minute angst, plus I was so close to getting round Ireland without losing my bike or having the car die that I wanted to finish this step almost as much as I wanted the ferry to be cancelled and give me another night. Eventually we rolled on and I found a seat for some sleep-2.55-5.45 ferry, yawn. Luckily I’d taken both jumper and gilet, because after a warm day the air conditioning was doing an unwelcome job of keeping everywhere cool. With sporadic sleep it was, though, a calm crossing, pulling in to Holyhead on time. Unlike my first ferry I was off in quick order, with early morning sunshine lighting me away from Holyhead (batman). I’ve been on the train/ferry special to Ireland before, with time to explore Holyhead, and it didn’t warrant a second visit. Instead, I was in Caernarfon by 7, looking for the Sunday paper I’d been denied the previous day and some breakfast. Service Welsh style was stroppy as the spar had only just opened, but hobnobs and lucozade in the shadow of the castle with the sports section was my idea of bliss.

View of the bay
Rubbish views, Welsh style.


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