Day 2 - Dublin

Belfast in the soft light of morning (how poetical I can be)

Greetings, humans! Well, we forgot that Dublin Airport isn’t Stansted and after finishing security well over an hour before our gate will even be announced, I’d better occupy my time filling you in on the day’s events. And I’ll watch some planes taxiing and occasionally flying away through the window.
          So, we left our cosy little AirBnb room very early in the morning (6am) although it already feels like a long time ago, it was another action packed day. It was still dark when we left, strangely pleasant though, our way lit only by street lights. We made our way back to Beersbridge Road and crossed the bridge onto East Street, where we arrived at Belfast Central Station. We collected our ticket which we’d been organised about and pre-ordered online. We were pleased with this, only £11 for a 2 ¼ hour train journey. Not bad, especially as it would have been £30 if we’d paid on the day.
          We were at the station so early the platforms weren’t even open yet (I didn’t even know this was a concept!). Our 6:45am train was the second train of the day (sorry, I can’t remember where the first train went, but it was somewhere in Northern Ireland). After, admittedly, not that long, we were allowed to descend en masse onto the platform. Well, a ticket-person (I’m sure there’s a technical term) had to hole-punch our tickets before letting us onto the platform, which was actually a fair walk from the ticket and information area. The train was there and we boarded straight away. We found a nice comfy seat in the corner and settled in for the journey. Charlie’s Travel Album once again surged through the headphones as the train pulled away and we were off! Soon, Belfast (a city I have decided I like very much) disappeared behind us.

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Stunning. Need I say more

Then we were in countryside, rolling hills and villages. Picturesque! The train began to fill up quickly, there were only three stops in Northern Ireland (Belfast, Portadown and Newry), but before we crossed the border, the train’s seats were full to bursting but I’m happy to say no one had to stand. At least two of the three humans who joined us around the table were Irish. They spoke to each other in the wonderfully musical Irish accent – I now understand why people like it so much.
          One hour after we left, we were over the border and stopping at our first Irish station, Dundalk, right on the border. Drogheda was the next station and then we had arrived in Dublin.
          We’re here! We disembarked in Ireland, land of the potatoes and home of the leprechauns! Not that we saw any leprechauns, although Charlie did have some fancy potatoes for dinner, on which more later.
          On the train we had made a worrying discovery that our compass seemed to be broken. It now pointed East (which I vote means it isn’t broken, as long as it always points East), meaning our train was apparently heading East into the Irish Sea, and not South as it should have been. When it became clear we hadn’t ended up in the sea, we started to wonder what had happened to this supposedly tough old compass. But never fear, once we had left the train, it returned to normal, again pointing North. Phew! All the electronics in the train must have scrambled it. Oh well, problem solved.
          Not that we used the compass at all in Belfast and Charlie pretty much just used the sun as a compass today (this is a special skill requiring knowledge of the time – difficult as it is always changing – and the ability to remember which direction the sun moves across the sky). This technique does not, of course, work at night or if it is incredibly cloudy.

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The first fancy building we came upon in Dublin

​Anyway, we were on a lighthouse hunt! Our first task was to walk directly south until we reached the River Liffey (oh, why?) which was as large and terrifying as I had feared. We crossed a reasonably large bridge and walked east (almost directly into the sun at this time of day), where we were mostly blinded and had to keep looking at the river. We ended up inside a diving bell which was quite interesting, it allowed workers to breathe underwater and carry out construction work. And it was bright orange, not as good as pink, but close.
          Soon we had to stop walking east because road works closed the road, we had to detour via the Grand Canal (we’ll discuss in more detail later) which we had to cross via a perilous lock. Ok, actually it was quite sturdy, but you can’t be too careful. Then we passed a mouldering old wreck of a boat. Poor thing. We returned to walking along the river after a brief wiggle through some residential streets.
          Ooh, the sun is just setting outside the airport and loads of colourful lights have come on. Pretty!
          Sorry, I was distracted. Back to the river (please, no). We wandered purposefully along a river side road, passed a lighthouse which was not the one we were hunting, and when the road began to curve away from the water, we ended up walking through a rather ugly industrial estate, the rear end of Dublin port. We walked through this for quite a while and then, finally! Greenness and sand emerged! Before you go jumping to conclusions that we were lost, oh no. We were following the route Google Maps told us was the way, we knew exactly where we were. 

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Oh, dear Roland, my love! Look at you waiting patiently for my return, wearing my Koningsdag flowers (see the Benelux Edition), unbeknownst to you, I shall die at sea!

​But then we were free, we were now walking along a coastal path where there were runners and cyclists and people with dogs. This is more like it, even if I can see water again. It’s no longer the River Liffey, oh no, this is the one, the only, the fearsome Dublin Bay. And beyond that lies… the sea! We strode along this path until we turned a corner and there was our quarry! The Poolbeg Lighthouse. We could pounce, and we could CATCH IT! No escape now lighthouse! We could see it stretching far out to sea on a long, thin arm. We rounded a few more corners, passed another lighthouse which wasn’t our quarry and took our first steps on to the arm. Oh, sweet hummus! This arm is indeed very long and thin. It is quite windy (blowing us out to sea) and there is nothing in the way of safety rails. Tell Roland I love him, we’re going to die!

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We have arrived! We didn't die and the lighthouse is ours!

​We walked along the scary arm. And kept walking. And walking. We are still walking. A ship overtook us, the wind was pushing us to the side of the arm. Charlie, stop looking like you’re enjoying this! Oh, finally, we’ve reached the lighthouse, now we can go back. But of course, 25 minutes after we first caught sight of the Lighthouse on the Edge of the World, Charlie insisted we take pictures, sit down and eat, of all things, the second half of the peanut butter and jam sandwich cookie we bought in 387 Ormeau Road yesterday. The first half was eaten last night, by the way.
          And so, with me still fearing for my life, we sat down on the very edge of the arm, Charlie’s feet actually dangling over the edge and watched the ship that overtook us disappear over the horizon and into the land of Here there be Monsters. Ok, that would more likely be the case if we were on the other side of Ireland, facing America instead of England, Wales and the Isle of Man, the latter of which the ship was probably going to, judging by the three legged symbol on the side.
          Whilst Charlie’s eating, let me tell you about the almost-pink lighthouse we came all this way to see. The lighthouse was built at the end of the Great South Wall, following a decision by the Ballast Community in 1761 and was completed in 1768. In 1813, they decided to make the lighthouse even bigger, it is now 63 feet tall. This lighthouse was a bit of a precedent setter, it was the first of its type to be lit by candles and then became one of the first to be lit by oil in 1786. Now, naturally, it is run on electricity, and has done since 1964, it gives two red flashes every 20 seconds. As of 1964, there has been no lighthouse keeper. I was pleased to discover there is a lighthouse authority called the Commissioners of Irish Lights who are in charge of annual inspections.
          Finally, Charlie allowed me to go back to solid Dublin ground, away from the terrifying Lighthouse at the Edge of the World and all its surrounding water.

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Back at the Bay where we achieved relative safety

​When we were back to not being able to see the Lighthouse at the Edge of the World, we climbed down the rocks (oh no, back towards the water) and wandered on the sand. Charlie might be used to the coast, but this is just too close to the water for me to like. Although sand is quiet cool, just don’t let it touch me, and there’s too many dogs around.
          We trooped back to the Grand Canal via two parks and the rather lovely Irishtown Nature Park to avoid the industrial estate. The first park was named after someone called Sean, so I approve of the Irish-ness. We crossed the Canal at the south end this time, via a car bridge and settled down for lunch beside it – why, oh why? I lament.
          The canal is pretty large, we watched a person use some jump ramps to do what looked like wake-boarding without the boat and a paddle board lesson where many teenagers fell in the water. Free entertainment!
          Lunch finished, we headed back over the River Liffey (water, leave me alone!) to the Rollin’ Donut, where Charlie bought a ginormous coffee and hazelnut doughnut. It was amazing!

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The Ha'penny Bridge, d'you think I could reintroduce the tolls? I could use it for travel money

Now onto some serious sightseeing. If this was a Hollywood film, there’d be shots of us appearing all over the city, posing and buying stupid hat-based souvenirs, but it’s not so there isn’t.
          First, we crossed the Ha’Penny Bridge, so named as this used to be the toll to cross it. No longer, we were now free to tromp across it as many times as we like (once was enough). It also had many other names, including the Wellington Bridge (its original name, after the Duke of Wellington), the Penny Ha’Penny Bridge (because the toll once rose to this eye-watering amount), the Liffey Bridge (its official name, no prizes for guessing why) and Droichead na Leathphingine (its Irish name). The bridge was created in 1816 to replace the ferries, run by William Walsh, which were in poor repair, under the ultimatum of fix the ferries or build a bridge. The toll was set at half a penny as this was the ferry price. Apparently, if the people of Dublin ‘objected’ to the bridge or the money, it would be removed, but they obviously liked it as here it remains. Walsh was allowed this toll for 100 years (did they expect the ex-ferry driver to live this long?) and the toll was eventually scrapped in 1919. Interestingly, the bridge’s bicentenary in 2016 was celebrated with a procession over the bridge.
          The Ha’Penny Bridge led us neatly into Temple Bar, a road culminating in Temple Bar Square, full of funky old shops and drinking establishments, including a bar called, you’ve guessed it, the Temple Bar.

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A quick stop at City Hall first

From here, we crossed to Dublin Castle. Sadly (for me) this was a modern courtyard-style palace castle, not unlike many we have met in continental Europe on my previous travels. There wasn’t a single cannon! A wonderful turret and an old chapel did remain, which we viewed from behind where we discovered a collection of eclectically painted buildings and the Dubh Linn (that’s Dublin in Gaelic) Memorial Gardens.
          Gaelic is everywhere, while we are on the subject. And I like that in most places, it comes before English, unlike in Wales where it's a bit random if Welsh or English appears first. I’ve learnt a Gaelic word, go mall, it means slow, which in Welsh is araf. Dubh Linn means ‘black pool’, as the Poddle Stream meets the River Liffey at the site of Dublin Castle, not that we saw the pool they are supposed to make. Interestingly, Dublin’s modern Irish name is Baile Áth Cliath, which means ‘town of the ford of the hurdles’. I don’t even know what that means! If you remember my discussion of the Irish provinces yesterday, you may care to know Dublin is in the province of Leinster. If you didn’t care, you know now anyway.
          Language and geography lessons over, back to the original subject matter. We wandered around the gardens where I made a new friend, crossed a bridge (this one was over a road, not more water, I’m glad), re-crossed it and set off in search of St Patrick’s Cathedral. We spied another cathedral on the way, so went to Christchurch first, then onto St Paddy’s, which has some nice gardens. We sat here and relaxed for a little while before we decided on where to go next.

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Ok, even I'll admit this is a nice view

​After some deliberation, we walked through St Stephen’s Gardens and decided to go to the Natural History Museum, known locally as the Dead Zoo as it’s full of stuffed animals and skeletons (the Victorians at work again). It was a little disturbing and made us both sad how many animals had been killed (mostly in the Victorian era) for fun and scientific study. Some of the skeletons of marine mammals were from animals who had been stranded and become beached. The ground floor was dedicated to Irish animals, the first floor was animals from all over the world.
          Then we went to have a sit and read in Merrion Square Gardens. In only a short while, we were off to dinner, tonight it was at Umi’s Falafel. Mm-mm!

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Dinner, slightly nibbled!

Charlie ordered the Palestinian falafel sandwich (hummus and falafel with cucumber, gherkins, tomatoes, fried aubergine and tahini sauce in a pitta pouch) with batata hara – spicy chips. Charlie added chili sauce and more tahini sauce to these. The meal went down well, but now it was time to catch the 747 Airlink Express to the airport. But first, there was just time to return to the Rollin’ Donut for another circle of doughy joy! Charlie grabbed the last(!) vegan doughnut (vanilla glaze with raspberry) and headed back to the bus stop. There was some kind of protest going on in the city (it did seem rather full), which held up traffic, but not much in the case of our bus. Soon we were out the city, through the Port Tunnel and bam! We arrived at the airport. Thinking the protest would have held up traffic for a bit longer than it did, we were at the airport two and a half hours before the flight was due to depart. Oops.
          We went straight through security with Charlie’s bottle of water still in our bag with me. While Charlie was drug swabbed, our 100ml+ bottle of water passed through the scanner unheeded.
          We sat waiting for the gate for nearly an hour and a half. In the time it’s taken me to write this, the gate should be up, so I’ll finish my Tail later. Bye for now.
          Ok, I’m back. We got to the gate quickly, but then the flight was delayed, by about forty minutes. To console ourselves, we sat and enjoyed the raspberry doughnut and then waited some more. So we read Charlie’s book. Finally, our plane arrived and the pilot informed us ‘Stansted’s a mess’, hence why they were late arriving. One can’t argue with brutal honesty, so we settled down into our seats, had a flapjack to pass the time whilst the plane prepared to depart and then slept through the short one hour flight. Finally we touched down in Stansted (no Ryan Air fanfare this time) and again didn’t have to pass through customs. Ireland is part of the Common Travel Area, along with the rest of the British Isles so we can fly in and out of Ireland without customs checks. I can’t help thinking that might change after Brexit. Anyway, that’s not my problem, time for a sleep now, where’s Charlie’s Interrail blindfold?

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​That’s it, the end of my adventures in Belfast and Dublin. Try not to miss me too much and I’ll see you soon, hopefully.
          Until the next adventure, Chesh.

The benefits of a half-empty flight? I got my own personal seat. See you soon, folks