Cut, print, its a wrap

There is no place like home

What an adventure we had and it is good to be home. However I have been reminded by a couple of you that I promised (four weeks ago) one more post to tie up a few loose ends and wrap it up as "they" say.  So here I go…

I made my list and checked it twice before we embarked upon this journey. The spreadsheet was a handy tool although the Navigator believed there was no time in the schedule for spontaneity, I disagree. It helped us stay organized (as in not forgetting anything unless of course you misplace the spreadsheet) and was meant as a guide. Adherence to the spreadsheet was not mandatory. And yes, when the next trip is planned a spreadsheet will be used. Ok,it is a wee bit compulsive. There, I said it. Now, on to more important stuff –like our B&B’s.

AmarAgua

We stayed in a variety of Bed and Breakfasts and all had their own unique character. But hold on, I need to mention something. I do not like eggs unless they are well disguised in say a quiche or strata. I will eat scrambled eggs occasionally but NOT if they are wet and slimy. No omelets, soft or hard boiled -blech, yuk to poached and fried eggs are just wrong, in fact I have been known to gag –ahem- at the sight of a runny yolk. Now that’s off my chest, I need to tell you that B&B’s in both the UK and Ireland serve eggs for breakfast - lots and lots of eggs. And those eggs are served with grilled tomatoes which are really very good on their own but every day??? Digression over please proceed…

A good over view of our London digs can be found in an earlier post but I will say that Barclay House B&B earned five stars from me -comfortable beds with ensuite (toilet and shower in the room), good access to public transportation, a variety of restaurants nearby, and great hosts.  It was part of a row of Victorian town houses (vintage 1878) where I expected Mary Poppins and Bert the Chimney Sweep to appear with umbrellas and brooms in hand. The accommodation in York was no less comfortable. St. Raphael Guest House was built in 1900 and survived WWII –the scars from shell impacts can still be seen. A young couple with a darling two year old ran the place and a hot breakfast was served up each day. And as you know –I am not fond of runny or wet eggs and their eggs were a bit too wiggly for me. But the home made bread baked fresh each day made up for the slimy eggs. The wonderful smell of fresh bread greeted us in the morning and was great touch. St Rafael’s was walkable to all the sights in York including the National Railroad Museum and boy did we walk. Of course I had a bit of a mishap at St. Raphael but let’s just skip that.  AmarAgua in Edinburgh was my favorite B&B for a whole bunch of reasons. The hosts were so charming and the breakfasts were the best. AmarAgua provided an opportunity to have porridge. Irish oatmeal topped with fresh blueberries and strawberries and served with cream and warm syrup. Yum.  Housed in a 1880ish stone building (Hello Mary Poppins), It  is beautifully furnished, with easy access to public transportation and views of Arthur’s Seat nearby –I was in heaven.  One Miller Time we sat in their Japanese Garden and got all zen-like with our gin. Ahem.

Arthur's Seat

Teach Eoghain run by Marian Sweeney in Gortahork, County Donegal and was our home for a couple of days and quite close to where my relatives live . With her easy laugh and penchant for story telling, our host Marian was a real hoot. It was the first place where we experienced black and white pudding - blood sausage. You don’t want to know what’s in it but I can tell you that it is dry –very very dry and even more interesting with eggs –hoo boy. Our host in Cashel (Joan) was full of sight-seeing suggestions for not only Cashel but all of Ireland.  Had I know this ahead of time, I might have asked her where the closest Tank Museum was located. Joan  provided breakfast choices that included the full Irish  (eggs, toast, sausage, bacon, black pudding -aka blood sausage-, grilled tomato, and grilled mushrooms) and Irish pancakes. I was all over the pancakes which were more like crepes and served with lemon juice and sugar.  
 

Mt Errigal near Gortahork

 

Other memorable stuff …


John was the 85 yr old man that we met in Ennis at our B&B. He was in a great deal of pain from a back injury. After breakfast we wished him well and forgot about him. On our last night in Dublin we decided to have dinner in the hotel restaurant/bar. While waiting for our dinner, I noticed a man with a familiar face. Geeze, was that the old guy we met in Ennis and if it is he’s made a remarkable recovery. Yes, John was there with a friend. Both had Guinness in hand and John had no signs of injury. Of course he remembered us from Ennis and proclaimed that he’d experienced a miracle. His friend said it was the restorative power of Guinness. Well, chalk another one up to Guinness  -it is good for you.

Signage in both the UK and Ireland is different and sometimes amusing for example -No fly Tipping. It can be a challenge to find street signs in both places especially when driving, as they are placed on the sides of buildings rather than poles on corners. Place names are also interesting - The House of Trembling Madness is a pub in York,  the Whip-Ma-Whop-Ma-Gate  is also in York although I am not exactly sure what it is, The Whistle Binkie Pub and Flesh Market Close (street/alley) are both in Edinburgh and believe it or not Gaoth Dobhair is Gweedore in Donegal, Ireland. And a couple of signs in Ireland -well just scroll down...

Someone help me!

I know this is not Flesh Market Close

 Gaeltacht region of Donegal

This amused me and I don't know why

Speaks for itself

More random wrap-ups...

Traveling for nearly a month does have its challenges. Going out for dinner every night was a problem for The Big Fella. It didn't bother me as much because I hold fast to the notion that if I have to cook dinner every night, I am not on vacation. Speaking of food, in my opinion the best pub food we had was at The House of Trembling Madness in York. The large pie, mash, and mushy peas were just what I wanted and The Big Fella was quite satisfied with sausage, mash and mushy peas. Mushy peas  -a bit like baby food in texture and are unlikely to be the next food fad in Seattle. Despite their lovely green color, mushy peas are not disgusting  -and they are not eggs.  In Edinburgh  The Yak and Yeti served up Tibetan/Indian fare, which was memorable and delicious. The Big Fella thought it was the best meal of the trip. Thai food in Ireland was a nice surprise. In Fulham (London) I had Sea Bream (fish) for the first time at Manuka's and it was one of my favorite meals. Did the waist line expand as a result of eating-out? Erm, yes but yours truly is back in the kitchen and minding The Big Fella's caloric intake, as well as my own.

We met Anna -aka the Navigator-in Belfast where she joined us for the Ireland leg of the trip Family rooms in B&B's were booked by yours truly to save a bit of money, and that meant the three of us shared a room. Not living at home for 10+ years, she apparently forgot that The Big Fella snores -every night- and sometimes at the decibel level of a jet engine. She brought ear plugs but complained that the snoring was not completely blocked-out. Trying to to convince her to imagine the night time noise as a symphony, or ocean waves hitting the beach was futile. The Big Fella does have a repertoire that occasionally interferes with my sleep but really the snoring on this trip was akin to a gentle purr -compared to some nights at home. The Navigator was unconvinced about the gentle purr business but she managed and we would've been quite lost without her navigational skills. Were it not for the Navigator, it is highly likely that The Big Fella and yours truly would be-as I write this-still stuck in a round about someplace in Ireland driving in a circle desperate to make our break for it.  She plotted a course through Dublin's one way, unmarked, traffic laden streets not only to our hotel but to the airport when we dropped off the car. There were only a couple testy moments.

So what were my favorite moments? There too many to list here but at the top was meeting some of my Irish cousins for the first time. As second cousins, we are bound together through our great grandparents Nellie(Ellen) and John Cannon. Nellie and John were life long residents of Meenboy, in County Donegal and had seven children. Two of their daughters married and moved to Scotland and one son, my grandfather left Ireland and permanently settled in the U.S. Four of Nellie and John's children remained in their home land. The land and house where my grandfather and siblings were born remains in the Cannon family and what a blessing for me to be able to visit my ancestral home. My Dad and his Brother had a large extended family in Ireland but knew little about them. I often wonder what the trajectory of their lives would have been had they been born and raised in Ireland.  I treasure that I have had the privilege to meet Isabella and husband David, Frances and husband Tony, Mick and wife Anne, and finally Seamus and wife Anne whom I'd met on my first visit to Donegal in 1997. All are children of my Dad's first cousins -none of whom he met. Nellie and John Cannon must be smiling down on their great grandchildren. I am so my father's daughter and getting a bit sappy  --starting to tear-up, so..

Lastly, I need to thank our wonderful neighbors Jim and Megan who watched our house while we were gone. Jim even mowed the grass. We couldn't be gone for such a long time without such great and caring friends and neighbors.And with that...

I am going to declare that the chronicle of this trip is now done. There is no doubt that I will return to the UK and Ireland but this chapter of Moose and Mosquito Tours is over.  Cut, print, it's a wrap!

Slán go fóill

Cashel and Doodling around Dublin

Driving from Dingle to Dublin in a day is a bit much, so your intrepid trekkers broke it up with a stop and stay in Cashel,County Tipperary. Coincidentally, it is also the location of The Rock of Cashel -sometimes known as The Cashel of the Kings and St. Patrick's Rock. The room in our B&B had the, "best view of The Rock," per our host and we quickly dropped our bags and headed up to the site. My traveling companions looked up at the edifice aka cathedral, grounds, walls and sighed, "ABC" -another bloody church. I do admit to having a fascination with these ancient religious buildings and places -castles too. Come on folks, humor me. There are no cathedrals built between 1235-70 in the U.S., and I was determined to limp my way up there (ankle still a bit tender) whether they wanted to or not. How many railroad, automobile, farm equipment, airplane, lumber mill stuff, hydroplane, old out board boat engine & gadgety what-not museums  have I been dragged to? By the way that list is not all inclusive, Muk Luk Land anyone? Who can possibly forget the place that has an exhibit of out houses -in very bad shape I might add. Harrumph!

Tripled layered to ward off the biting cold, we arrived at the site paid our admission and took the tour. Indeed the wind was so ferocious, at times our guide had trouble being heard over the roar. The tour was worth the time as the complicated history of the place was explained. This outcropping was once the seat of  power for ancient Irish Kings -and whatever fortification existed here prior to the 11th century must have had great strategic import. The view from the top stretches for miles.  One of the Kings was baptized by St. Patrick on that very spot and a subsequent King gave The Rock to the Church. It was at times a place of refuge for the clergy and has a maze of passage ways within the walls. These hidden passages along with the Round Tower provided some safety against marauders. The place is covered with scaffolding due to major renovations needed to shore up the roof of the cathedral. but better that than have it collapse. Just below The Rock are the ruins of  Hore Abbey -a monastic settlement that my buddies insisted we skip. But it is free, I implored -nope no dice. Grumble, grumble, grumble -let's go have a Miller Time eh? Pub food and a good night's sleep followed and then it was:  On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer to Dublin...but not before...the hunt for a transportation museum.

The Big Fella thought he'd found a transportation museum just up or down the road from Cashel but supposedly on the way to Dublin. Right. I figured with all of the cathedrals, castles, rural roads and sheep on this leg of our adventure, he was in museum withdrawals and there was no harm in spending some time at one transportation museum. Right. The Navigator did her job and found the town and within the town the intersection where this museum was reportedly located. This was quite a feat due to the one way streets, and lack of signage for the said attraction. Alas, the museum was not where it was supposed to be. Hmmm what could this mean? It had been moved. Yours truly asked a letter carrier if the museum had closed. Looking a bit puzzled he replied, that if we followed the road to Waterford (no inkling from him just which way Waterford was and no signs) go to a specific round-about and we could not miss it. The hunt for the transportation museum was on but which way was Waterford?  This became an aimless wander for us until finally a sign directed us and off we went. How we actually found the signage to Waterford remains a mystery. Certainly, the museum was close but what was the name of the round about(they give them names) and did he say how far away it was? A not so scenic side trip ensued and after a while the transportation museum was given up as a lost cause. Maybe next time  because Dublin called and the car needed to be returned to the airport before 4 PM., as driving in Dublin was nuts and public transportation would work just fine while we were there. With little consultation with the trip organizer -yours truly- my two traveling companions decided that we should first drop our bags at our accommodations in Dublin and then return the car to the airport. The conversation went a bit like this, " Navigator, should we check into the hotel and leave our bags before we return the car?" The Navigator responded, "Yes, and Dad I am all over this." Of course now it meant driving in and through Dublin. A very heavy sigh was heard from the back seat. Not the original plan but I told myself to be flexible.

To her credit, The Navigator did an excellent job plotting a course through the one way streets of Dublin. A bit of retracing was required due to those one way streets and right turn only lanes which produced some tense moments. It also does not help that not all streets are signed and street signs are on buildings not on posts and not always in normal sight lines-guess Dubliners always know where they are. Once safely parked in a garage a block or two from the hotel, The Big Fella uttered a couple of sharp words and the Navigator-with her big steel blue eyes flashing death rays- looked back and said, "Ok, I quit!"  It was Def Con critical. No, this cannot be happening -the car still needs to be returned to the airport!!!  The Navigator could not abandon ship and it was obvious she was none too happy with the Dadster .Okie dokie now what? Diplomacy. Yours truly complimented the Navigator on her skill at getting us to our destination while at the same time giving The Big Fella the benefit of the doubt. I muttered something about it being stressful and how I could not possibly have done either the driving nor the map reading and please oh please don't leave me in the lurch. Mission accomplished. We dropped our luggage and headed out into pre-rush hour traffic to the airport. The car safely back at the rental return and your intrepid trekkers safely back in the hotel, a Miller Time -much deserved at that- was had.  It's all good -and oh heck a Pub Crawl really seemed in order.

Gogerty's Pub was the start point (three pubs were visited) for our traditional Irish Music Pub Crawl and what a hoot.  Two accomplished "trad" musicians -guitar and flute- introduced we crawlers to Irish instruments, Irish music history and  Irish story telling. Audience participation is part of the experience and whoops are considered great compliments and encouraged so long as the music is not drown out. Foot tapping is Ok, but try not to clap with the music because clappers tend to lose interest in the clapping part and suddenly realize that no one else is clapping and it is awkward. The audience is encouraged to join in the singing, tell a story or two, and of course whoop to show appreciation. We were schooled on jigs, reels, and slow airs and believe it or not polkas.There are only three traditional Irish instruments -can ya guess what they are? I'll tell ya: celtic harp, bodhrán, and uilleann pipes. (elbow pipes/bag pipes) Many thought the tin whistle fiddle and flute were "trad" instruments but as was explained, for centuries the Irish have used/adapted other instruments in their music. Not only was this session fun but educational. At the conclusion we were all invited to a real "trad" session at a nearby pub where both our musicians were playing along with a fiddler, harpist, bodhran player, and others These sessions are often last minute things put together these days via text message. We decided -heck yes let's go it's free! We made our way through a very crowded and noisy pub to the back room where the musicians sat in a corner. The pub noise was a bit distracting but what a treat to hear this wonderful music played so beautifully. An enjoyable evening capped off a hectic day. Yay!

Sight seeing was the focus of our second and last day in Dublin.It was pre-decided that we begin with the National  Museum of Decorative Arts and History. It is a branch of the National Museum and is housed in the Collins Barracks - an 18th century military installation. We spent the entire day exploring the portion of the museum devoted to Irish military history -of course. This also included a section on the 1916 uprising and the Irish civil war. The museum also holds a sail boat which was used as a gun runner to supply the IRA with weapons. All of it was quite interesting but by closing time I was done. Stick a fork in me done - time to call it a day - get back to the hotel -and begin packing for the  return trip home. This trip was coming to an end...

 

One more post to wrap things up is on its way.

Zipping around from here to there

I am so far behind  and have so much territory to cover.   Put up your feet and  grab a Guinness...We said goodbye to Westport  -destination Ennis County Clare with drives through the Burren, a stop at the Cliffs of Moher -pronounced More so why did they put an 'H' in there- and finally our B&B in Ennis County Clare.

We were told the weather was going to be Ok even though there was mist and wind as we left. Onward we went into the elements. We're Seattlites what's a little rain. Plus, the rain and wind guaranteed the car ride was going to be interesting -er I mean added to the adventure- er I mean made it all the more luvly.

No dual carriage roads on this ride, it was two lane rural roads all the way and of course on some occasions those two lanes became one lane which prompted yours truly to lean to the right to ward off the foliage that's ever so close to the left side of the vehicle. Anyhoo, the first stop was The Burren in County Clare - a rocky barren place somewhat due to prehistoric peoples clear cutting the area. A stark contrast to the the rest of the Emerald Isle, and it seems haunted and for good reason. A table like rock structure that the locals call a Druid altar, is just off the road via a short walk. Actually, it is a passage tomb or Dolman and is thousands of years old. The Burren is littered with the relics of people that inhabited this area long ago. This coupled with the landscape gives it an other worldly-like atmosphere.  The drive through the Burren was steep with blind curves and yes, The Fella drove them too fast. Ok,  just call me granny. Lean to the left! Lean to the right! Do you see that sheep! Tractor off the port bow and a big truck comin' at ya. Land ho, ahoy matey be still my bladder and heart. Where was I...we opted to skip the Burren visitor center and pressed on to the Cliffs of Moher- remember its said More with high hopes that the weather would lift. As we closed in on the Cliffs, the visibility was soupy and wet. The conditions worsened with each mile and by the time we arrived it was not worth the admission fee to sit in the parking lot and imagine what we were missing. We were welcome to purchase the ticket and it would be honored for a year. Um no, maybe next time- there is always next time.

A bit of an update here... the Navigator and The Big Fella worked through their communication issues. Yes! Although, she likes reading in the car and I don't know how she manages this without getting nauseous but it has created some tense moments. You know like when a round-a-bout pops-up!  The back seat navigator is then pressed into service and well, I am usually on it -ahem. Digression over...

Disappointed that the Cliffs were invisible we pressed on to our B&B in Ennis..

Ennis is a village in County Clare with a tangle of narrow one way streets that were decked out in Clare colors (yellow and blue) to celebrate County Clare's victory in the all Ireland hurling competition. I am not 100% sure what hurling is but it might be a cross between field hockey, baseball, and soccer. And there is a good possibility it is a contact sport -so its bound to be messy.  Back to Ennis...it is a fairly good sized town but not someplace where you would expect to find a Thai restaurant. Here in the middle of Ireland no less, and there are at least two Thai restaurants -maybe more. Of course we dined at one of them and the food was quite tasty. I asked the owner what brought him to Ireland. His response was to tell me the name of his home town in Thailand. Maybe my brogue-less English tripped him up. We did not expect good Thai food in Ireland so a pleasant surprise it was! Changing subjects...

Staying in bed and breakfasts has some real advantages. The other guests are often quite chatty at breakfast and offer tips about where they've been and what to avoid. We have done the same. At Ennis we met a man named John who was born in Dublin but lived in Spain and was back for an extended visit. John shuffled into the breakfast room apologizing as he was in a bit of pain. Apparently, he'd fallen out of bed while staying in the Aran Islands.While he did not explain how or why he fell out of bed, John did talk a bit about his life wincing with pain when he moved wrong. We wished him well and a speedy recovery from the back injury. Oh, and John is 85. More about John in an upcoming post because Dingle is on the agenda.

The Big Fella  perused the brochures at the B&B in Ennis and found a Flying Boat Museum in Foyle. Only about an hour from where we stayed but not really on the way to Dingle, this could be trouble. The plan was to take the ferry across the River Shannon from Clare to Dingle. Our B&B host pointed out to us that really Foyle was not that far from the Dingle side of the river and... Ah nuts, the Tank Museum is coming back to haunt me. The Big Fella then asked his traveling companions what we thought?  Diplomacy is required in these kinds of situations, so the Navigator eye rolls and then blurts, "No Dad!" Yours truly mumbled something about the time and we'd see once we were across the river and tried to force smile. The Fella then looked at us, shrugged and said it wasn't that important. Hoo boy that was a close one.  So we set off for Dingle with no stop at the Flying Boat Museum and a sunny day to boot.

What can I say about the Slea Head drive -Dingle Penninsula-but wow. Prior to starting the drive, we stopped in Dingle town for lunch and an interesting lunch it was. The cafe owner was shall we say, unique and quite possibly a flower child in another life. Upon entering the eatery, he was assembling one of those dipping birds. Hmmm..

 

There were assorted things for sale in the cafe -mostly from India where the owner spends four months a year. Think patchouli oil. The trek to the restroom was through his garden to the garden shed that doubled as the loo. The food was good and conversation with the owner was an experience all on its own. Full of food and ready for Slea Head we were on our way.

Slea Head drive rivals California 1 and the Oregon Coast (via 101.) But unlike those two, much of  it is one lane. It is stunning and has a little bit of everything to keep one engaged -from a stone age ring fort to beehive huts that look like rock igloos. Sunshine and clear skies provided gorgeous views and Skellig Michael (an island in the distance) and the Blasket Islands were visible. The Blasket Island visitor's center provides the history of the islands and its people. The Gallarus Oratory built 1300 yrs ago  of stone and resembles an upturned  hull of a ship. The drive is ruins and beautiful scenery, a winding one lane road, and takes 3-4 hours to do.  The Navigator kept her eyes on the road for this one and kept the Big Fella from hitting a few sheep and the dog herding them."Slow down! Dad, Dad, Dad! Dog!" Our B&B was one that I stayed in 1997.  It was owned by the same family which was a nice surprise for yours truly. Set just outside of town with a great view of Dingle Bay upon arrival we were ready for dinner a good night's sleep. We found a great pub. A very restful night was had by all.  Breakfast was home made scones which were way too yummy.  I had two. Yes, its true -two scones with jam to go along with the full Irish breakfast. Can you say calories?!? Wish we'd had two nights there just for the scones but Cashel called and we were off after breakfast. More driving, more rural roads, more teeth gritting! 

Stay tuned,Cashel and the Rocky Road to Dublin are next up.

Nothing in particular

Road signs:
Slow bends
Three exclamation points with the word slow underneath (do not ignore this warning)
Safe Crossing at Zebra Stripes
ramps ahead=speed bumps
picture of a sheep or cow means they can be standing around on the road, crossing the road one at a time or in small groups or being herded across the road by a dog

More driving stuff:
Tractors and tractors pulling trailers of stuff -like spuds- are slow- very very slow.
As a passenger in the back seat I find myself leaning to the right, as if this is going to help the car avoid hitting the hedges and walls.
I close my eyes a bit while on the narrow roads.

Somethings never change:
Fungi the dolphin still lives in Dingle Bay -Fungi was there 16 yrs ago.

Random observations:
Most if not all of the B&B's and hotels did not have a clock in the room or had a clock that did not work. True in both the U.K. and Ireland. One B&B owner told us that her guests take the batteries?
The Irish have a different concept of time. They are not in a hurry except when they walk. I do remember this from my last visit.
The Irish walk alot and on all of the roads. They also drive really fast on their roads.
A expression one hears frequently is, 'please god.' Not sure if it is a question or statement.

The low flying couch was in a small cafe in Dingle, County Kerry. The cafe owner was shall we say, unique.

Pedaling as fast as I can -catching up: Irish wedding in Westport, Contae Mheigh Eo

These days Irish weddings can last many hours and sometimes a couple of days. Ok I was a bit nervous when I learned that returning to one's hotel room to take a nap or freshen up is not uncommon. Egads, a nap?!?? What on earth?!? I'll do my best here to recount this part of the adventure. I cannot include everything but I'll giver 'er a go.

First up the night before the wedding, a rehearsal takes place at the church. While there is no rehearsal dinner, the groom's family hosted a get together in the hotel bar. -starting at about 9:30PM. It is not an all night affair but an opportunity for the groom and his family to gather  and chill a bit before the big day. I met yet another Irish second cousin at this event so I was happy.  The wedding itself was a typical Catholic Nuptial Mass -the marriage happens in the middle of the service. Some of the service was in Gaelic but I won't elaborate other than I had no freaking idea what prayers were being said. But the service is just the warm up for the reception -which is a long, happy, wild, celebration. It starts with a champagne reception for the guests. The happy couple is off taking pictures. About 45-60 mins. later the newly weds arrive and a bell rings (old school bell) and calling all for dinner-the wedding started at one PM and the dinner bell rang at 5 PM. Ok, then a sumptuous meal is served -liquor is served but is not mandatory. Dinner  lasts more than an hour. Then come the speeches from both Dads and the groomsmen - and after each speech is a champagne toast. Dessert follows this but not wedding cake?!?? WHAT?! NO CAKE OH NO. While dessert is served the band is setting up for their 10PM start time. No it's too late to start dancing, I'm tired, but to quote my mother-in law used, it was hardly dark out! The dancing that followed can be hazardous to your health. It was fast and fun and everyone is out there flailing away -except for the Big Fella. His dance chops aren't what they used to be and was content to watch the merriment. I danced and my ankle was not happy about it but what the heck. The music was good and I could not hold back my happy feet.

With the first set done, the banquet staff were ready with more food. More food???? This time sandwiches, finger foods and petite fours. Tea and coffee are offered but liquor remains available. At this point my ankle is sore, the feet are swollen, and I am getting pretty darned tired. Alas call me a party pooper but I left during the second set. The traveling companions hung in there for a bit longer. But the party is not over yet...

Once the band finished a DJ took over and the disco began -1 AM folks. A little birdie told me that the party continued until 5 AM or so and ended with the guys doing a bit of Irish dancing. Now that I would've liked to see. The newly weds stayed until the very end and were seen at breakfast the next day at around 9:30-10 AM but looked to be in a trance. But it ain't over yet...

After breakfast the Baties and a couple others decided to go for a drive in the Connemara to enjoy the scenery of the area, but were instructed to be back by 7 PM. Another gathering was scheduled at a pub close-by. Oy,oy,oy I don't know how they do it! There was beer and food at the pub and great conversation and a bit of debriefing re: the speeches. Two days after the wedding we bid adieu to all -happy for the couple, happy to experience an Irish wedding, happy to still be in Ireland and happy to move to the next phase of our adventure to rest up.

More to come...a drive through the Burren, the foggy Cliffs of Moher, Dingle, dogs, more sheep, and eating hedges from the passenger side of the car

Random ramblings from Ennis, County Clare

Comment by the Big Fella, "Whoever laid out these streets must have been drunk.

Doire (Derry) to Dún na nGall (Donegal)

My last visit to Ireland was in 1997 and was still a time of sporadic violence. The border between the North and South was heavily fortified.  The crossing involved a serpentine road, tall prison like walls with barbed wire and towers where British soldiers with large guns had their sights trained on the road below. It was unnerving. Visitng the city of Derry-in Northern Ireland- did not even cross my mind at that time. Never Surrender was the motto of those loyal to the British Monarchy.

This time Derry was on the itinerary. To get the most out of our time there we opted for a guided walking tour which helped put the things in perspective.  John our delightful tour guide who at times was hard to understand -darn that brogue- was quite knowledgeable about the history and politics of the  troubles, and the current uneasy peace. Derry seems to be making positive steps forward.  At any rate at times I missed a bit and was not entirely sure John was speaking English. The three of us would look at at each other and shrug shoulders. Sometimes a whisper, "did you get that?" None-the-less it was worth the time.

A short ride to Donegal for a visit to the ancestral home was next up.

My grandfather was born in the townland of Meenboy which is near a larger town named Gortahork. This is in the Gaeltacht region of Ireland and prior to his immigration to the U.S., my grandfather spoke Irish as his habitual language. All signage -road, businesses, and government buildings-is in Gaelic. This can be a bit confusing especially while driving but you get used to it and everyone speaks English.  Gortahork is a very rural area. where old walking paths were turned into NARROW wagon roads. These old paths were not designed with the automobile in mind. Buildings and fences are quite close to the road -sometimes the houses appear to be in the road- and difficult to impossible for two cars to pass each other on these things. Soooo it is prudent to take them at a slower speed than what might be posted.  You know where this is leading. Sooo, unfazed the Big Fella drove some of them like the Irish which can be a life altering experience.   But when you drive so fast that it scares a native born Irishman - I just don't know what to say.  My Irish cousin mentioned to The Fella that he might take it a bit slower. Could've had something to do with the house and stone wall  hiding behind a blind corner that he nearly hit. At one point my cousin offered me the front seat and I politely declined. I preferred the view from the back seat. 

Like the last time I visited the old Cannon place, I was struck with how very old it felt. The stark peak, Mt Errigal loomed over the old place and the peat bogs were nearby.  On this visit -and I know this seems a little out there- I had a sense of belonging to this place. Weird I know but so it was. After Mr. Toad's wild ride in the wilds of Donegal, we enjoyed a nice dinner with family and retired to the sitting room with a peat log burning in the fireplace. 'Twas quite nice.

I get very sentimental about Meenboy and this part of Donegal. Two days was not enough time here and I will be back someday.

Ireland: the narrowest roads in the world and sheep with racing stripes and castles in the air

Edinburgh to Belfast via Easyjet really was easy. Based on the advice from the locals,we arrived at the airport 2 hours in advance of our 11:30 flight.  But with barely one half hour in the air, we spent more time on the ground than actual flying. Our Anna met us at the Hertz counter and off we went for the -gulp and God help us- driving portion of this Moose and Mosquito adventure. The Big Fella is not a new comer to driving on the left side of the road -you might recall New Zealand? Hoo boy, well Ireland is an entirely different sort of experience.  The heavily traveled dual carriageways are OK until a roundabout (roust about) appears and that's when the fun begins. Multiple lanes on these so-called traffic managers means close communication between the driver and the navigator is required. Much jockeying for position occurs and if the opportunity to get in the proper lane passes, around you go again -a bit like "Charlie on the MTA," you might never get off! The solution? One option is to  get off on the wrong exit hang a u-turn somewhere and try to set up better on the return through... The first day was shall we say a bit tense. For example, "Dad you were supposed to go left." and The Fella replies, "You didn't tell me to go left." The navigator then says, "I told you to take the exit for the N59. Weren't you watching the signs?" The Fella says, "No, I don't watch for signs. I am trying to concentrate on not hitting anything and staying in the correct lane." The Navigator sighs, "Dad how do you manage driving in a strange place?" "Well," he says "mom is usually with me."  The Navigator gives yours truly the evil eye and says, "Mom you can navigate tomorrow." Busted! I gave the navigator a sheepish grin.  The rural roads are usually without round abouts but are narrow -as in not room for two cars to pass narrow- and full of bends and blind curves. There are some 2-lane roads and the Irish drive them at break neck speeds.  If there is a shoulder, slower cars will move over and allow traffic by but it is the custom to slow down if you move to the shoulder. Pedestrians and bicycles also use the shoulder. There were shouts from the back seat just to gently remind The Fella to SLOW DOWN! 

There were a few frayed nerves but we made it to our destination which was the seaside town of Portrush and the biggest room we stayed in the entire trip.    The County Antrim Coast is very dramatic and we stopped for a few pictures and a short hike in a forest.

Two nights in Portrush allowed us to visit The Giant's Causeway, Bushmills Distillery, and the Carrick-a-Rede Bridge. The Giant's Causeway is the site of volcanic activity that occurred many centuries ago. The guided tour really helped us to understand the geology of the area but the myths are more fun. Finn McCool was a giant and he was having a disagreement with another giant who lived in Scotland. The Reader's Digest version: the two giants threw boulders at each other creating the dramatic scenery of The Giant's Causeway. Finn McCool won the battle. Now go google Finn McCool. Next stop Bushmills Distillery which believe it or not is in the Village of Bushmills. The tour is interesting and The Big Fella enjoyed it and asked all kinds of questions about the process -much to the consternation of a group of non English speaking tourists (German perhaps) as they they understood very little and were clearly waiting/wanting for the tasting bit at the end.  One of The Fella's questions was, "What's the difference between Scotch and whiskey." To which the tour guide responded, "the spelling."  Much to the delight of the non English speakers the tour came to an end and yes, a wee sample is offered. I opted for the 12 yr old whiskey as did The Fella -the navigator had a Hot Toddy. It was mighty fine tasting stuff. Bushmills conquered it was time for a trip to the Carrick-a-Rede Bridge. This is a rope bridge once used by fishermen to get themselves and boats into the water. It crosses a chasm between the mainland and a rock. Unfortunately, the wind had kicked up while we were at Bushmills. The bridge was closed due to the high winds and gusts which nearly laid me flat. We were able to walk down to it for a look which we did.   A brief stop at Dunluce Castle for the ruins.  It dates to medieval times. Apparently 17th century building inspectors missed the lack of structural reinforcement needed to keep this thing perched on a rock outcropping. One stormy evening in 1639 half of the kitchen area collapsed into the ocean below. Yes, there were people who went down with the kitchen. This unfortunate event caused the lady of the house to pack up and leave -can't blame her.

Sheep are a common sight here and sometimes they gather on the sides of the road doing their sheepy thing. You know looking for the best grass or getting a good spot to view the passing cars. What you notice -immediately- is the stripe or dab of paint on each one. Because herds sometimes mingle a bit on the commonage (open range) their owners put an identifying mark of spray paint on their bodies somewhere -sometimes two or three colors. One enterprising owner used a bright yellow on the entire hind end. Those guys really stood out. Felt a bit sorry for them really  -there is no hiding behind your buddy from the next heard to avoid the sheep dog.

The day ended for us with Guinness and pub food. And a good night's sleep was had.

Up next,the drive to dear old Donegal via Derry an Irish wedding and more. I am running about 2 days behind but stay tuned.

Edinburgh Part II : Name that smell, what the heck is a Rebus Tour, Holyrood, and....

After a gourmet breakfast, we set out to experience another day in Edinburgh.  Gladstone's Land, a Rebus Tour (huh?) and Holyrood Palace. Gladstone's Land is a 16th -17th century house/rooms/ apartments and is quite interesting. Some of the original interior decoration (ceiling painting) survives. Life during that time could be harsh and sanitation nonexistent. Be very thankful for plumbing, sewage treatment, garbage pick-up etc. Dodging hazardous waste was part of day to day life. From the stuff being hurled from the windows- chamber pots dirty dishwater garbage- to the garbage/sewage -human and animal- already present on the street, it must have been quite the obstacle course to do a bit of window shopping in Gladstone's Land.  Hmmm, wonder if that's where the expression,"Look out below!" originated. And since it was believed that bathing was unhealthy-, your family, friends and neighbors were on the nose- as they say. Not to be left out is the menagerie farm animals, and pets that lived both outdoors and  indoors. It was shall we say a bit of a noxious stew on the street, and a really really malodorous environment.
We finished with Gladstone's Land just in time for a Rebus Tour.OK, yours truly did not read the brochure details closely enough and what I thought was a historic tour through some of the back alleys was a tour of the places in a book series written by a Scotsman by the name of Ian Rankin. The main character is a seasoned detective in the Edinburgh police name John, wait for it, here it comes, you'll never guess it.. Rebus. Here it is again in case you forgot, John Rebus. Apparently, the series is very popular but I'd never heard of it. And if I'd not heard of it, you can be darned sure The Big Fella was not an avid fan. I knew that something was not right when our first stop was the backside of the city morgue.  Our guide, Colin Brown was quite entertaining as he walked us through Detective Rebus' haunts stopping from time to time to read passages from various books from the series. Not what we were expecting-lots of eye rolling from the Big Fella and nuts no stops that included military hardware-but we made the best of it and found a pretty good lunch stop before heading on to our next stop -Holyrood Palace.

When the Queen stays in Edinburgh, it is at Holyrood Palace. It is a grand place with beautiful grounds and opulent rooms. We walked into the King's bedroom -however it is unlikely that a royal ever slept there -although there was a bed in it. The room was used  to receive guests and conduct official business. A peak into the room where Mary Queen of Scots gave birth to her son James IV who later became King James I of England -I think. As I said before, a road map would be helpful to keep all of these people straight. And of course Mary was executed by her half sister Elizabeth I. Families are funny, no? Exiting the palace is a glorious view of Arthur's Seat and Salisbury Crags. What a great place for a palace- location, location,location!  Now on to...

Our last full day in Edinburgh and the goal was Arthur's Peak. It's hikeable and yes even with my bum wheel I did it -with an assist from my walking stick. The sunny skies brought out many with the same idea but there was enough room at the top for all to enjoy the 360 degree view of the city and The Firth of Forth. In a hunt for the "easy way down" we encountered a lovely woman named Jenny also trying to located the easy way down. Jenny had about 10-15 yrs on us and in great shape.  Off we went until the trail came to an abrupt end that came with two choices: 1. meadow scramble straight up where we knew the "hard way" was or turn around and try again. This time taking a slightly different path headed us in the wrong direction. The Big Fella was prepared with a compass but no map-because there wasn't one- and we found our way back to the road. Jenny stayed with us until she arrived at her bus stop. Funny though we did not introduce ourselves until the end of the journey. Then we were off again to find...

Souvenirs! Back to the Royal Mile we went where we had a most unusual encounter with a shop owner. Curmudgeon really is what he was. He insulted customers, told me I was stupid for not knowing the ingredients of Haggis, went on about the Masonic Lodge a bit, asked me if I belonged to the Eastern Star. When I said nope I didn't think Catholics were allowed, he bristled. Apparently,the organization was founded by Catholics and Jews. Huh? I haven't googled it yet but by this time my head was spinning, the Big Fella chose to remain silent -probably a good thing. I bought a can of Haggis and left. A final bit of slow wandering on the Royal Mile and our days in Edinburgh were done. Oh, boy do I ever want to come back to Scotland. Next time it will be to the Highlands and maybe a wee bit of Edinburgh too as we barely scratched the surface of what is here to see and do.

Next up Ireland!

Ireland - County Antrim

Edinburgh Part II is on the way but we are now in Ireland. OK, alright yes I am getting ahead of myself but just could not resist.

Edinburgh Part I - Whistle Binkie anyone?

I don't know if there is such a thing as a Whistle Binkie but it is the name of a pub in Edinburgh near the Royal Mile. And a wonderful name it is, don't you think?

Enough of the digression onward - a train ride from York brought us to Edinburgh and a jarring -cobbled streets- but speedy taxi ride had us at our  lovely B&B  (AmarAgua) in no time at all.
Tired and hungry after the mishap on the stairs, emergency room etc., and the two hour train ride, dinner and sleep were in order. Edinburgh would wait until the morning.

Shaved, showered, shampooed, and full of a delicious breakfast, the first order of business was a walk up the Royal Mile to Edinburgh Castle - actually the city bus dropped us about half way up the Royal Mile, so the walk was not exactly a mile... but what a day we had. Edinburgh Castle kept us occupied the entire day. The castle which dates to the 11th century has everything from the crown jewels of Scotland and the royal palace to the Scottish National War Memorial and a pet cemetery to suits of armour and a large 13th century siege cannon, Mons Meg. This bad boy was a gift to the Scottish people from the Belgians(Merry Christmas do you like your new cannon?) and was capable of firing a 300 pound rock ball about 2 miles. Must've left quite the crater. This brings up the fact...

At 1:00 PM a cannon is fired-no not Mons Meg silly. A practice started (prior to standardization of time think keeping time) as a means for ships to set their navigational devices, gauged the tides, etc.  Castle visitors grab the best viewing spots about 45 minutes prior the firing. We were among those jostling for a prime location and snared good real estate. Cameras were everywhere awaiting the blast and with a poof and boom the whole things happened before the shutters could be clicked. More castle stuff...

Mary Queen of Scots resided in Edinburgh Castle when she gave birth to King James VI of Scotland- the year was 1566. James VI became the King of England but known as James I. It was this James I who authorized a translation of the bible -hence the King James version of the bible.

To tell you the truth -I am now utterly confused by the history of the English monarchy. Royal families all over Europe seem to be connected and a genealogical chart listing all the cast of characters would be very useful to try and track all these folks through time.  Wars were fought over who deserved to be crowned but I still find myself befuddled trying to keep all of the relations straight.

I don't think that this qualifies as a digression but I need to add a short bit about the Royal Mile. What a fascinating collection of medieval buildings, 21st century businesses, buskers, street performers and alley's with names like The World's End Close and Flesh Market Close.

Although it was a little slow going for me due to the ankle, Edinburgh Castle, yes I do believe we saw it all.  More later...Edinburgh part II is in the works...

Miscellaneous things you might not know

Date line Edinburgh:

Did you know that the origins of the term "toe the line" date back to the early British Parliament. During debate Members of Parliament would stand facing each other. The space between them was a swords length -holding the sword. Since MP's were armed, a line was drawn -toe line- that marked how far apart debaters should stand in the event that things got nasty and the swords came out.

Today the expression ear mark has positive and negative meanings. But the origin or the term may date back to the middle ages. A merchant found guilty of dishonesty had his ear nailed to a wall. It was a form of public shaming. Once the time was served -ear nailed to the wall- the nail was not removed first. Instead, the offender's ear was pulled off the wall making a permanent mark- ear lobbed ripped- on the ear.

When a child rides on an adult or an older child's back, we call it a piggy back ride. In olden time families shared their living spaces with pigs, chickens, cows, etc. When the baby pigs were around, children would ride them for fun. It was a literal piggy back ride.

The term pin money may have evolved when women wore lace collars that were pinned to their dresses. Because the pins were made of metal, they would rust in a couple of days especially during damp weather. New pins cost money and in those days women would need to ask their husbands for "pin money."

ps: My ankle is beginning to get a bit better and I am getting around Edinburgh. I did buy a walking stick which has helped. 

York -2000 Years of History in 3 days

How does one see the sights of a city so steeped in 2000 years of history? You walk and walk and walk. But if you are with the Big Fella, you start with a tour of the York Brewery. Our afternoon arrival by train 15 minute walk to our B&B and all the while feeling lost until a stranger stopped and asked if we needed directions and thank your favorite deity, she was a godsend because it was getting a bit tense. We deserved a reward.  Once settled we tried to orient ourselves by you guessed it...walking. And the funny thing is that walk took us directly to the York Brewery in time for the last tour of the day. Included in the tour? Well that would be a pint of whatever is on tap. Yes, a tall -I'd say cool one here but it was room temp- was enjoyed. Next was the hunt for a meal and we decided on The House of Trembling Madness which we almost missed due to it being in the same building -dates to the middle ages- as a "bottle shop."  The House of Trembling Madness -ya gotta love the name- is on the second floor of the building. The Big Fella enjoyed the sausages, mashed spuds, and mushy peas. I opted for the meat pie with mashed spuds, gravy, and grilled onions. Our first real pub food was accompanied by a couple of pints. A good meal with way too much food, good brew, and a good night.

On day two, after a tasty English Breakfast -eggs, sausage, bacon, tomatoes, and mushrooms- your intrepid travelers decided that a guided tour of the old city was in order. Our tour guide did walk us through the 2000 yrs of the history of York. Some of the stops included Roman ruins, bits about the Vikings, the remains of Norman Abbeys, walking on a portion of what is left of the city wall and of course how Henry VIII sacked the local abbeys.

Access to the historic places in York from our B&B was a shortcut through the York Botanical Gardens and the ruins of St Mary's Abbey. The Abbey must have been formidable. What's left and the foot print allows a visitor to imagine how grand it must have been. Unfortunately for the monks who ran the place, it was destroyed by Henry VIII when he broke with Roman Catholic Church, appointed himself head of the Church of England and well you need to read the history. But in short the monks were driven out, Henry VIII confiscated anything valuable and the once immense church fell to ruins.

Ok so now my reporting is out of order in an historic sense, but this brings me to the Vikings. That band of marauders arrived after the Romans and before the Normans. There was a significant Viking settlement in York -the name York is derived from the Viking name of Jorvik. You might be asking, hmmm is there a museum about the Vikings?. Yes,  and we visited the-ahem- Jorvik Museum. Oddly it bore no resemblance to Ballard.  There are plenty of artifacts to peruse including  a re-creation of what life was like in Jorvik. Real human skulls and bones with war injuries were displayed. Ugh. And the big attraction for the school kids was a petrified piece of human- um oh gosh how to I handle this- well it is human excrement. There I said it. Apparently, scientists were thrilled to find it as it revealed much about the Viking diet. That leads me to...

The National Railway Museum is in York and you know that we spent an entire day there. But folks I need to say that this was the very best railway museum I have visited -ever.  And trust me, the Big Fella has dragged me to plenty of railroad museums.I have the pictures to prove it. This museum was gold for him and more than made up for the erm Tank Museum being left off the itinerary.

The York Minster was today's attraction but that was canceled due to my infirmity. I hope to return to York if for no other reason than to visit the Minster.  What I saw of York I loved...the shambles, the cobbled streets, crooked alleys, buildings that date to medieval times, Cliffords Tower and the City Wall, lovely botanical garden, Roman, Viking, Norman ruins a, good beer and pub food, The Rivers Ouse and Foss and the friendly people. All are now fond fond memories.

The Real Perils of Pauline

I am not accident prone but...

Before leaving for Edinburgh, we were to visit the York Minster. It is the largest Gothic church north of the Alps (per Rick Steves) and dominates in skyline here in York. Construction on it began in 1220 and took 250 yrs to complete, as well it sits on the remains of an ancient Roman building. Today, new construction is not allowed to obstruct the views of the Minster which means there are no sky scrapers. But back to the topic at hand...why are we missing this wonderful church which is steeped in history?

Yours truly took a bit of a tumble down the stairs-at the B&B while trying get my suitcase to the lobby. It was a spectacle to say the least complete  complete with near fainting due to ankle pain, other guests gawking at me, the kind owner offering assistance,  paramedics ready with a joke, a ride to hospital with stories about being there at least 6 hours and experiencing the NHS (National Healthcare System, you get the idea.  )Lucky for me, we were first in the queue at the E.R. X-rays were ordered before ever seeing a Doc, and we were in and out, taxi ordered in about an hour. No fracture was seen just a bad sprain. So the trip will continue but I will be a bit hobbled for  a day or two or three.

My dear Big Fella is off to find some Tylenol and lunch so we don't starve, but of course there is no chance of that happening when he's on board -missing a meal that is. We will press on and hopefully arrive in Edinburgh on schedule. Meanwhile I am feeling a bit sorry for myself -I really wanted to tour the Minster but it gives us a reason to return to this wonderful city.  I have nothing but praise for the care I received from both the hospital staff and the paramedics -who asked me my age by stating, I hope you don't mind this but I have to ask it, how old are you?

A post devoted to York is in the works but without all of the drama.  And I will sign off with bit of the wisdom of Roseanne Roseannadanna.

"It's always something."

What are the Odds and Ends?

While waiting for a London Walk to begin, the Big  Fella noticed a young man wearing a Seattle Sonics jersey -as in a very old style Sonics jersey ala Fred Brown, Gus Williams, Jack Sikma era jersey. Wasting no time I said,  "Hi, can I as you a question?" He looked up from his phone - I continued-" are you a fan of the Seattle Super Sonics? I see you have the old style jersey." The young man from Italy eyes got very big and he said, "you can't be from Seattle."  The jersey had just arrived the day before -ordered on-line- and he cried as he opened the package. The jersey was donned today for the first time, and now he could hardly believe that he was talking to a couple from Seattle. We talked a bit about the old teams -Ray Allen was his favorite player. Folks our reputation as a casual place must be known outside of our universe. Apparently he'd heard that suits are rarely worn in Seattle, but nobody ever wears a tie in our fair city. Well, OK we are casual but there is - although the sheer number maybe small- a suit and tie wearing crowd within the city limits. But yes our dress tends to be informal. Indeed what are the odds of running into a 20 something kid from Italy wearing an old time Sonics jersey while in London. Go figure.

Onward and upward next topic the Perils of Pauline -well sort of. The Big Fella's luggage was too big-ahem- to fit into the overhead bin for the train trip from London to York. It was stowed in an official baggage area but kept falling over which triggered the door sensor between train cars and you get the idea -open close open close. So he moved it but that failed to do the trick, so he decided hey while I'm up here I will use the Loo. Unfortunately for him the Loo was awash-er clogged. Didn't anyone else notice and why not notify the attendant? Who knows but the Boy Scout did his good turn and unfortunately that facility was closed for the duration of the trip.  OK that was probably too much information. Grab a hanky for one more bit of train whining, we had to sit backwards. Oh no!As a result of our Grand Central Line train being cancelled we lost our reserved seats but were welcome to take any available seat in cars G or C. Festival seating but at least we were able to sit together. Trains are a great way to get around. They are economical if you purchase a ticket 2-3 months in advance, quiet, and pretty darn comfortable. More ramblings...

Although England and America are English speaking countries, we certainly use different terms to describe things. Take signs for instance- fly tipping was covered already-, another is no dog fouling -self explanatory,  humps ahead -speed bumps, mind the gap -watch your step. You get the idea and I will share them as I see them. 

So what about York? It is interesting and wonderful enough to have it's own post and it's in the works.

No Tanks for You

Put your feet up. This could be a long post,as there is some catching up to do. FYI: we are now in York

We said goodbye to London this morning and arrived in York around 1:30PM. There was a bit of a hiccup in the plan but I will get to that in a bit. Where was I...oh yes the Tank Museum. Turns out that said museum was about 2 hours away by train. Since buying the tickets the day of travel is on the expensive side, it made the Tank Museum a no go.  Aw Nuts! However gleeful I was at the turn of events, the Big Fella was NOT disuaded by the situation. He found what was -in his mind- a reasonable aternative that was actually in London. The National Army Museum served as the stand-in. Sigh. It was our morning activity on Sunday and suppose it was like going to church for himself. Enough of tanks and the army just what have we been doing?

Saturday was a 5 star day for us. My cousin Isabella and husband David spent the entire day giving us a tour of London that is sure to be a highlight of my trip. We began on a double decker city bus that took us through many of London's posher areas -Chelsea for instance. We got on and off buses a couple of times to save wear and tear on the feet but this was a walking tour for the most part. We hit Buckingham Palace just as the changing of the guard began. Due to the crowds, we were unable to get very close but saw enough of it to satisfy our curiosity. As we strolled by the Parliament building, David provided us with a bit of history about the building. Crossing the Thames at the Tower Bridge, we meandered through the area on the other side of the river -stopping to take pictures and wouldn't you know it, found a pub! Adult beverages were enjoyed by all. Hugs all around ended our wonderful day and it was back to our home away from home -the B&B in Fulham -which by the way is a great place to stay.

Our first day in London we bought a bottle of gin for Miller Time enjoyment and wouldn't you know it the small refrigerator in the guest area of the B&B did not have a freezer. Bummer dude - I don't know about martinis but gin and tonics need an ice cube or two. We went back and forth as to whether we should ask our host for ice but in the end threw caution to the wind.  Yup, she had ice and was more than happy to share it with us and what's more she liked gin! Woo Hoo! Two quite wonderful Miller Times were shared- one on her roof top deck and the other-our last night in London-included an impromptu piano and clarinet jazz set performed by she and her husband. Happy but hungry the Fella and I found a cozy spot to eat where it was trivia night. Never one to back away from a game of mindless trivia, we joined the fun -game over. The dynamic duo was dead last but finished. At that we called it a night. A wonderful end to a wonderful time in London.

Folks we are now caught up and that brings me to this morning's adventure. Packed and ready to go, we embarked on our last ride on the Underground which we actually got pretty good at -riding the Underground that is. Sooo, one transfer at Victoria Station would get us to King's Cross in order to catch the train to York. Turned in the Oyster Cards, got a refund on the unused fare, found the train station and then proceeded to orient ourselves and check on our train.  Found the 11:21AM to York, destinations listed but at the very bottom was a notice. The train was cancelled due to what was likely a mechanical problem. AAACK! Now what?! I stood in a line for a ticket agent only to be told that I was in the wrong line and go see customer service over there. Dejected, I found the end of that line and waited my turn. The other trains to York were  run by a different company and I was worried that we would not get out as scheduled. The agent informed me that the East Coast Train leaving at 11:30 Am would accommodate us. Our tickets were good for that line and I may get a partial refund for the inconvenience.   We arrived in York safe, sound, and relieved. A happy ending.

No Moose and Mosquito Tour is complete without a Wild Life Update: No wildlife  but there is No Fly Tipping. I am not sure what this means for the flies but there is signage in Fulham warning would-be fly tippers. I do believe that it has something to do about littering or perhaps putting garbage in a can that does not belong to you. But whatever it means, the flies are on notice.

 And everyone please, Mind the Gap.

Just say no to Tank Museums

OK, I planned this trip. I set up a spreadsheet for cryin' out loud.There was the reading. I won't list all of the books. But fun topics like the plague, heretics condemned to death by burning at the stake or be-headings, Henry VIII and all of his wives, jousting, and  lest I forget the War of the Roses (aka the 100 year war.). Downton Abbey(PBS series)provided an important backdrop for the lead up to World War I, and for a bit of the swashbuckling-ahem-the film version of Rob Roy made the agenda.  Then there was the extensive research into historic places and museums (the Imperial War Museum-snort) that might keep the Big Fella happy and occupied.

I asked the Big Fella on numerous occasions if there was anything in particular that I should include. Nope, he says -just along for the ride. Except in the late summer the Fella announced that he'd done a bit of searching and found a museum that seemed quite interesting. Might it be worked into the schedule? Well, it depended on where it was and by the way what is this museum? He replies quite proudly, The Tank Museum. Yes folks in England there is a museum devoted entirely to Tanks  -as in Sherman. and Panzers. Sigh. No dear -the Churchill War Rooms and the Imperial War Museum are both on the schedule. Those two should suffice, no?(All the while I am thinking Tank Museum he's got to be kidding!) And really there are so many things to see in London such as the British Museum -the Rosetta Stone anyone?- Westminster Abbey, Big Ben,Buckingham Palace, Parliament, The Tower of London... Confident that I'd nipped that in the bud, I tried to forget about it. But you must know, this saga is not over.

Our first day in London included several hours at the Churchill War Rooms, Churchill Museum, and a London Walks focused on the Blitz. It was a good day. This morning was Westminster Abbey and the Imperial War Museum. All was going well until it became clear that most of the Imperial War Museum was closed due to renovation and the big items -planes, jeeps, tanks, etc- were not on display.  I was foiled.!  Guess what came up today? Yup, that would be the Tank Museum.  Stay tuned.

Tomorrow is going to be quite wonderful as we are spending the day with a second cousin of mine and her spouse. This is our first in-person meeting and I am psyched. Our Dad's were first cousins and never met and I doubt knew of each others existence.  I'll be thinking alot about my Dad tomorrow. Good stuff!

Somehow I don't think that the Tank Museum is going away quietly.

Mary

A cloudy day in London town - people are so interesting

Long flights are not my favorite past time but can be quite interesting in the people watching category.   Yes, flying in steerage has its pluses. Aisle blockers are fun to observe and curiously oblivious. Take the guy who was kiddie corner from us -it seemed that every time the flight attendants needed the aisle for the beverage or food cart, up he popped to grab something from one of the two of the over head compartments that his bags occupied. Clueless to the surroundings or needs of the crew, at one point his rather large suitcase was sitting, open on his seat while he stood in the aisle rummaging through it. The flight attendants waited patiently. I snorted.  There are the folks who actually sleep on an airplane and those who can only make an attempt. It is all about finding the right position. Watching folks contort themselves into what they believe to be a sleeping position is an example of human ingenuity or torture. Most of us do our darndest to try and get comfy only to wind up stiff, tired, and grumpy by the end of the flight. And yes, I am one of those in the attempt to sleep category. The recline while they dine is a curious group. Just as a practical matter this does not make much of sense. Besides maximizing the potential for spillage, it really annoys the bloke sitting behind and the cleaning bills  -oy.  It is best to try and keep your sense of humor during these long excursions.

Needless-to-say, we arrived in London (cloudy and about 55), got through customs, and boarded the Tube to our destination -The Barclay House B&B. The Tube experience wasn't too bad except when I purchased the Oyster Cards, I called it an Orca Card, and the ticket agent was shocked that I'd only buy the minimum of amount of fare. It's all good. The first order of business was a nap. Greg snored and I was able to catch a couple of z's. But the real fun begins tomorrow. Ya, it's a couple of museums and more. Stay tuned.

Moose and Mosquito Rides Again -cue the William Tell Overture

It has been two plus years since the last Moose and Mosquito adventure, and I  know that you've missed me. Admit it. You've longed for my amusing anecdotes, descriptive digressions, wacky wit and madcap musings about life, love, and the Big Fella's quest to see every military, small town, automobile, goofy gadget, airplane, and farm machinery museum known to man. Folks, I am back, but you must be asking why such a long hiatus.

Well... our wanderings to Hell's Canyon and Desolation Sound  were as they say, off the grid -and by the way I don't know who "they" are. Hard to believe but there is no internet in Hell's Canyon - hence no blogging. which also means no Facebook.. Horrors, how do they survive in the wilderness! A cruise in Desolation Sound was too boring to blog.  It would have been a relentless whine about gorgeous scenery and seven days of beautiful weather and the best Miller Times ever, and my camera going for a plunge in Squirrel Cove and the mayhem following an anchor slip in the middle of the night. No WiFi, sigh. Some things will need to be left to the imagination.

But never fear Moose and Mosquito Tours is about to ride again to a part of the world with an abundance of WiFi. Yes!  The wilds of London,York, Edinburgh await us and for kicks and giggles a little tooling about Ireland is on the agenda. But do brace yourself as what I am about to say is hard to fathom  -in fact you should sit down. There will be no camping on this trip -oh darn.  It is bed and breakfasts all the way baby. There will be castles, museums, haggis, museums, Jack the Ripper, museums, negotiating the Tube, museums, leprechauns, museums, driving on the wrong side of the road, and museums, Guinness, and did I mention museums. Soooo.....

 Ladies and Gentlemen I suggest that you take your seat and fasten your seat belt, make sure your seat back and folding trays are in their full upright position. All aboard and hold onto your hats because Moose and Mosquito Tours is about to begin.