Travel

Going Dutch

4 November, 2021
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

Friday October 29, 2021

Over the summer we were invited to a friend’s 50th in Holland and we booked flights in what we thought might be an excess of optimism but here we were, actually going. The airport was quite busy but travelling through to our gate was relatively painless. The flight was completely full – every seat. Aside from masks, it felt very normal indeed. Our friend met us at the airport in Holland and dispatched us to our accommodation in a taxi which felt pleasingly decadent.

I was delighted with the Airbnb I found us in the Hague.

It was beside the beach (fine, technically Schevening) and although it was definitely not beach weather, it was nice to see the sea. It had the extraordinarily steep ladder like stairs which come as standard in Dutch houses. I have no idea how old people manage. Maybe all the cycling keeps them super fit?

We went to the supermarket and we were the only people wearing masks. The Dutch only have to wear masks on public transport and everyone has abandoned elsewhere.

That evening we went to our friend’s 50th birthday party. Lads, a hundred people, a buffet and not a mask to be seen anywhere. It was like the before times: I loved it. The boys went off to play cards with the birthday girl’s children and Mr. Waffle and I mingled. We had a grand old chat with an old friend of the birthday girl who has left a very successful career in the law to move into gin production. Do you think I am making this up?

The venue was delightful: a big old house in the middle of a park with a lake. Apparently it used to be owned by Shell for the purposes of entertaining Shell bigwigs before becoming a venue for hire. All going well with Shell eh?

At 9 I took myself off to the airport to meet herself off her plane from England. This was fraught with difficulties due to my imperfect understanding of the Dutch public transport system. I found myself cowering on the tram rehearsing the lines I would give to the ticket inspector when it became clear that my transport card had insufficient funds. Happily the moment never came and I scurried into central station in the Hague and on to my train to Schiphol without further difficulties.

God, it was so nice to see my first born child. She was in terrific form and wanted to go straight to the party which we dutifully did and I am happy to report that we were among the very last to leave.

Saturday, October 30, 2021

We had a quiet morning and then went for a ride on the big wheel by the beach before taking ourselves off to our friend’s house where the boys continued their game with their Hiberno-Dutch friends and a neighbour’s child. Our friend fed all of us, her own family and her two sisters. Quite heroic. And one of us is now a vegan. As well as her own party the previous night and all the attendant relatives in town, she also had a friend’s 50th dinner party that night and her third child’s confirmation the following day. It was a lot but she seemed in great form in fairness.

Sunday, October 31, 2021

We decided to go to the Escher exhibition in town which was pretty good and the boys found it mildly interesting too which is always a bonus.

Herself was keen to go to the Mauritshuis. Off she trotted on her own. She was supposed to have booked a ticket but she hadn’t. The doorman liked her earrings and let her in anyway.

Earrings are visible above in the accidentally Wes Anderson shot of herself and Michael.

The Mauritshuis was free in for young people and she was delighted with it; full of old friends. She went wild in the gift shop: that’s my girl.

We had a final lunch together at the airport. We had to abandon herself half way through to run for our flight. I was sad to say good bye and leave her eating alone in an enormous international airport but it was probably for the best: we made our flight but it was a bit tight. Schiphol is quite a large airport, isn’t it? And two of us were selected for a very slow and deliberate random bag check which did not help matters. There were tense times in our little group. Separately, our 18 year old made her flight with lots of time to spare and a slightly superior attitude.

We got home to lashing rain, a delighted cat and a stream of trick or treaters for whom we had neglected to buy any sweets. Alas.

“It’s starting to get a bit cold, finally,” I said to Mr. Waffle, “Will I switch on the Aga?” “Not the weekend of COP 26,” said he. Everyone’s a critic.

I must say, it was nice to be away, away. I’ve really missed going to different places. I had forgotten how absolutely charming Holland can be. I do feel lucky to have been able to go: I fear restrictions may be back again later in the year so the timing was good. Will Covid ever end?

Since You’ve Been Gone

20 October, 2021
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Travel, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

Life meanders on notwithstanding the absence of herself. A man comes with a power hose and cleans the concrete in the garden. All the men folk hate it but I am delighted. A locksmith comes to fix the shed door and our new cleaner starts. It’s all go.

I have to go to Killarney for work – my first post Covid trip. Here’s a thing I didn’t know when I got on the train for a four hour journey at 11 in the morning: the trains no longer serve food. Unsatisfactory.

Thursday, October 7, 2021

It lashes rain for the duration of my trip to Killarney but at least I have some food for the train journey home.

I speak to herself. Apparently England is very “spenny”. I beg your pardon? I welcome the opportunity to get to grips with English student slang.

Friday, October 8, 2021

Following my root canal a couple of weeks ago, I get a crown put on a back tooth. This is not a pain free operation, people. By the time I get home, the inside of my mouth feels like a battle ground. I was more delighted than I can say when one of my bottom front teeth chipped at the back later that evening. Seriously, no, no I was not. Back to the dentist for me.

Saturday, October 9, 2021

I cycled 12 kms out to visit my mother’s college friend whose husband died in August. I think she was pleased to see me but she is no-nonsense and a dentist and she told me to stop feeling my tooth with my tongue. “I can’t help it,” I said plaintively. “Of course you can,” she said. Ah great to be reminded of what it feels like to be a hapless teenager.

Mr. Waffle the boys and I cycled into town (to say I am the slowest cyclist in the family, kind of understates how much slower I am than everyone else – I felt like an antelope separated from the heard by circling traffic but I got there in the end). We saw the only thing I could get tickets for in theatre festival which was only 20 minutes long which was a source of general delight. The theatre is owned by the father of one of the Princess’s friends and her friend was doing the tickets and her other friend’s mother was doing the lighting. All we were missing was herself. More pizza afterwards.

Sunday, October 10, 2021

Book club in real life. It was amazing. I had such a good time. And then cycling home I ran into my friend and her husband on the street. They’ve just moved back from Brussels and it was such a lovely surprise to see them. A very satisfactory Sunday.

Monday, October 11, 2021

Our next door neighbour’s elder child is in art school and she is going to paint a mural on the lane behind our back door. I am v excited. She came in with some sketches. Thrilling.

Tuesday, October 12, 2021

I spoke to herself. She seemed in reasonable form. Then I went home and inadvertently laid the table for dinner for 5. Alas we are only 4.

Wednesday, October 13, 2021

The boys had an assembly for their year in school. As Michael said to me, “Assemblies are never good news.” He said that they were all sitting round performing an examination of conscience while the year head paced up and down talking about their workload and how important it was to study this year. However, it was good news. They had the first two classes off and the school brought them in breakfast for world mental health day. More of this.

Thursday, October 14, 2021

Herself rang to say that we couldn’t blame her more than she blamed herself but that she had lost her passport in the pub the previous night.

Question for the audience: why is the Irish consulate on Cromwell Road? Does that strike you as a great address in all the circumstances? Before any firm moves were made to resolve the logistical nightmare, some kind humanitarian put up a post on the student facebook page saying that he had found it. Who knew students even used facebook? She doesn’t but her friend texted her.

She has to get some form of ID that is not her passport. I can’t face this again.

I was talking to my brother about Cromwell Road and mentioned perfidious Albion to which he said, “What does that mean, picky, over fussy and neat like you are, you sure you’ve got that phrase right?” “Perfidious, not fastidious,” I said tartly.

Friday, October 15, 2021

Mr. Waffle and Dan went out to watch the local football team in action (another draw, thanks for asking). We’ve all got very used to going out now, strange how quickly things have reverted to normal. Michael and I stayed in and watched “Blinded by the Light” which we both really enjoyed and there was no one to get annoyed with us for singing along.

Saturday, October 16, 2021

Very peaceful day in which nothing much happened. Hugely enjoyable.

Daniel had a hurling match he lost by a point but he seemed philosophical.

Sunday, October 17, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I went out for a cycle and visited his mother. We abandoned our poor sons to their homework. One of the big compensations of being a grown-up is having no homework, frankly.

Monday, October 18, 2021

It was 19 degrees today. 19 degrees in October. I was melting in my opaque tights. On the way home I cycled into a wand separating my cycle lane from general traffic. No injury you will be pleased to hear, other than to my dignity, naturally.

Daniel had GAA conditioning training out by the airport which, as he said, is convenient for no one. Mr. Waffle dropped him out and I collected him. It’s moving to the club next week. Thank God. I thought we’d be driving him out to the airport two nights a week in perpetuity. The GAA training is super intense: conditioning two nights a week; training two nights a week and at least one match every weekend. I have no idea how children who want to play more than one sport manage.

Tuesday, October 19, 2021

The principal sent out an email to parents and students about the dangers of “Squid Game”. Too late for us, we watched three episodes but we tired of it. The principal says, “It is the strong belief of many psychologists that the message and culture in this series is not good for anyone and that it is extremely dangerous for young people.” I’d say anyone who wasn’t watching has started now.

We had a great long conversation with herself. All is well in foreign lands.

Great sunset today.

She’s Leaving Home

17 October, 2021
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, September 27, 2021

Daniel and Michael are 16. This growing up is very speedy for parents at least. Full birthday posts to follow. Something to look forward to.

Herself had some friends from primary school around. Two girls I have known since they were five years old and they are now both (v tall) young women in college. Surprising.

Billa O’Connell died and everyone on my sister’s road stood out to watch the hearse go be. Ah the pantomimes of my youth. One of my colleagues reminded me of a line of his, “Are you happily married or living in Kinsale?” Even in the 60s, Kinsale was known for its cosmopolitan ways.

This would have been my parents’ 54th wedding anniversary.

Tuesday, September 28, 2021

Our cleaner is moving back to the Ukraine after many years living in Ireland. Good for her. Bad for us. She is going to find us a replacement. Fingers crossed.

Mr. Waffle’s Tuesday night soccer is back. He’s delighted. I retired to bed early with a headache, like the Victorian matron I am at heart.

Wednesday, September 29, 2021

I am delighted with the woman I have found to do French conversation with the boys: she lives around the corner and she’s happy to play board games with them and they seem to like her. She’s studying in Ireland for a year. When we first met her, she was wearing make up but not when she turned up this evening. She looked so young that for a moment I thought she was one of their school friends. I suppose she’s not that much older than them. Middle age is not so much creeping up on me as mugging me and dragging me down a blind alley.

Thursday, September 30, 2021

The light bulb in the downstairs bathroom needed to be changed and Mr. Waffle found a pool of stagnant water in the bottom of the bulb container. We assume it dates from the works in the upstairs bathroom and, happily, no one was electrocuted. I will keep you posted on developments.

I was talking to my sister about my trip to the England the following day and confessed to a feeling of mild trepidation. Conversation as follows.

Me: It’s been two years since I was on a plane. When were you last abroad?

Her: Long pause.

Me: Well?

Her: Actually, I was in Holland a couple of weeks ago.

Me: What??

Her: Well, I wanted to keep it a secret because I knew if our brother Dan heard he would ask 200 million questions and I couldn’t face it. You actually called me while I was there and, remember, I said that I couldn’t talk.

Me: Not really. This is very weird.

Her: And in vain because Dan rang while I was there and the first thing he said was “Are you abroad, that’s a foreign ring tone, why are you abroad?”

Me: Honestly, it’s hard to know which of you is weirder.

My brother, Sherlock Phones as he’s known in the family circle. Anyway, she said no one is wearing masks in Holland.

It was the Princess’s last night at home and I was quite sad. She, however, was energised by her ongoing effort to deal with the IT problems she was encountering with her college administration.

Friday, October 1, 2021

Another generation off to England. Oh alas. Still herself is delighted and very excited. We agonised about whether to get the ferry or fly but in view of the petrol shortages in England, flying was probably the better option.

Herself has a loads of euros which she suggests we might change at a more advantageous rate than the bank. As she put it, “Using the Bank of Mum and Dad for actual banking.” The airport was quiet but not impossibly so and everything went pretty smoothly. Herself dropped an ear pod as we were landing and, as is the way of such things, it promptly rolled up the plane and she was in agonies lest someone inadvertently stand on it. Not only did I have to disturb the people in front to get it but they had to go to the people in front of them in turn and so on until it was safely returned.

I remember when herself was three months old I went to a friend’s wedding. Herself was a bit sick and our teenage babysitter procured by the hotel abandoned her post in face of the incessant wailing. Mr. Waffle went to tend to her. When the bride asked where he was, I explained. She promptly dispatched her mother, a GP, to inspect the baby. Her mother came and brought a friend who was a pediatrician. I was mortified that she should be pulled away for work at her daughter’s wedding. As the two women examined my baby (she was grand, thanks for asking, the mother of the bride made me drop by her house in the morning for a further look and herself lay in my arms looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth), I said, “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.” And the mother of the bride smiled and said, “Well, you’d better get used to that feeling now that you have children because this won’t be the worst of it” How very right she was.

We had some difficulty finding somewhere to stay for the weekend but we eventually found a guest house which was a bit grim but clean. I said to Mr. Waffle, “I don’t remember the last time we’ve stayed somewhere quite so vile.” And he said, “Aren’t we very lucky that this is the case.” Which I suppose is true, Pollyanna.

We brought lots of stuff over in suitcases but we had to buy lots of supplies when we got there: the disadvantage of not having the car. Single duvets were at a premium, I can tell you. A sister of a friend saw us in Marks and Spencer’s (because if you’re Irish, there’s always someone who’ll see you, I am genuinely curious as to how Irish people have affairs) but left us alone as we looked a bit stressed. Still we achieved much on our first day and went to dinner in a Lebanese restaurant to celebrate. Herself is delighted by the range of vegetarian food available in England.

I found the mask thing a bit the opposite of the situation in Ireland. In Ireland, the default is that you wear a mask in shops and public places and the very odd person might not. In England, it seemed like the default was no mask but some people were still wearing them. I felt a bit odd with my Irish mask wearing habits.

Saturday, October 2, 2021

We indulged in an orgy of spending including a new bike for herself. This makes poor old Michael the only family member who hasn’t got a new bike in the last 12 months. Here’s a picture of Daniel’s recently acquired bike which makes him very speedy. He was already much speedier than me, so I wonder how absolutely necessary it was.

I digress. In England, it lashed rain on us but we broadly achieved our objectives and it was a tired but happy gang that went to dinner that night.

Herself said dolefully, “I’m about to start Freshers’ Week but I am exhausted by 9, how will this work?” How indeed?

Meanwhile her brothers had been living it up with their aunt in Dublin. A trip out for pizza and a plan to spend the following day playing cards with her partner in his saintly parents’ house.

Sunday, October 3, 2021

We dropped herself and her pile of bedclothes and other essentials off to her on campus accommodation which, in fairness, is very nice and went for a walk which was delightful.

On our walk we met a Belgian film crew and Mr. Waffle gave them an interview (they were pretty pleased to find anyone who could speak French). Yes really. We checked the RTL website afterwards but, alas, his content appears to have been consigned to the cutting room floor.

Then we had lunch with herself and headed off back to the airport (nearly missed our luxurious – ahem – bus but did not). Mr. Waffle said that it was like the reverse of when we took her home from Edith Cavell, the maternity hospital in Brussels. We went in and there were two of us and we came out as three. This time we went over as three but only two of us came home.

Monday, October 4, 2021

It’s pretty hard when your child moves country at 18. I felt like I had a hole where my heart should be which is a weird physical sensation. When I got home, Mr. Waffle had bought me flowers to cheer me up. They were somewhat effective.

One of my friends messaged me to say that she had attended the school open night for new students via zoom and that the Princess was on it as a past pupil talking about her experience in the school. This was news to me. The fact that I found out about it immediately the session had ended further underlines the futility of trying to keep anything secret in this country.

Tuesday, October 7, 2021

I spoke to herself on the phone. She seems to be having a good time. She has found people who also like to read hard books. “Mum,” said she, “everyone here has read Beowulf and Ulysses.” Isn’t well for them? She seemed pleased anyway. I discovered in the post office that you can send a 20kg box to England for a mere â‚¬25. I was delighted. I asked the woman in the post office whether there was any limitation on the size of the parcel. “Let me put it this way,” said she, “someone posted a mattress yesterday.”

Into the West – Holidays Week 2

7 September, 2021
Posted in: Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

Did you think that I wouldn’t finish my holiday post? Are you crazy?

Sunday, August 8, 2021

We drove to Sligo via the midlands. Can I tell you that there is nowhere, absolutely nowhere to get a cup of tea in Edgesworthstown (ancestral homeland of Maria Edgeworth whose family owned the local big house) on a Sunday afternoon? We were luckier in Longford and managed to get an outdoor lunch at 4 in the afternoon for which relief much thanks.

We arrived in Sligo in the evening. We had rented an Airbnb in the town just opposite the Catholic and Protestant cathedrals which were situated next door to each other on a bend in the road. It was a busy road and, as herself pointed out, with the faithful now being neither nimble nor sprightly, having to cross a busy road on a blind corner to get to church was likely to be fatal to many of the congregation.

Anyway, the house had four lovely double bedrooms. Sadly the kitchen was tiny and we could just all sit down there and there was a total of 6 knives, forks, spoons and plates. Clearly it was designed as a couples’ getaway but not, I think for a family group who were hoping to eat in occasionally. The front room was tiny also but we could all sit there, so fine. The children scattered to their bedrooms once they were clear on the wifi codes.

Here’s Michael looking like he’s 102 and has lived in the Airbnb all his life.

Monday, August 9, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I went out early to try to find a walking tour of the town. The tourist office was closed for Covid reasons and there didn’t seem to be enough tourists to justify any walking tours so we took ourselves off and had a good look around the town. It has a French gothic style court house which showed that the 19th century Office of Public Works architects were given their heads more than you might think.

A lot of law firms near the court house, naturally. This one is famous in certain circles.

Bram Stoker’s mother was born in Sligo.

It’s quite a big town with it’s own independent existence and clearly not largely dependent on tourism. Lots of old fashioned department stores which I very much liked. However, overall, there are two big ticket items the Sligo tourist people plug: WB Yeats and surfing. Honestly, a strong interest in one or the other, or, ideally, both, is recommended.

In the afternoon we went out to Standhill to have a swim. You are not allowed to swim in Strandhill. It’s basically reserved for surfers. Too dangerous for swimmers. Allegedly. So, onwards to Rosses Point where everybody swam except Michael. Quite chilly.

Herself got her second vaccine appointment for a couple of days before the end of the holiday. She decided that she would rather go home a bit early than try to change it for Cork. Alas. Still, great that she is to be vaccinated.

Tuesday August 10, 2021

Herself and myself drove out to Strandhill to this cafe which is much beloved by the Irish Times and surfing hipsters alike. I thought it was ok – avocado eggs end of things – but pretty pricey. Also run by very young women one of whom used a sweeping brush to clear off an outside table which I found sub-optimal. Great view though.

We took ourselves back to the town and had a wander. Lunch was a bit unsatisfactory. Outdoor dining was chilly, the food wasn’t great and the table umbrella was poorly placed.

You see here herself and Michael channelling the energy of the group.

We went to the Model which is the local gallery – lots of Jack Yeats (brother of the more famous WB), quite good but small. We dropped in to the local library. This is something I like to do everywhere I go. I would say that of all the libraries I have visited, Sligo is safest from Covid. There was no browsing at all and people had to ask at a plastic encased counter for the books they wanted. It seemed excessive.

Footsore (I developed a sore heel which was only getting worse, so much more of this anon), we returned to the house where saintly Michael made dinner, the other children disappeared to their rooms and Mr. Waffle and I began work on the obligatory holiday jigsaw.

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I had a lovely breakfast in Lyon’s, an old fashioned department store.

Later, herself and myself hit the town and bought her a range of lovely dresses in the old fashioned shops which are quite a feature of Sligo.

Also, a lot of banks and former bank buildings converted to other uses.

It reminded me of Cork in the 1980s and I quite enjoyed my trip down memory lane except my heel was sore.

We went for a family surfing lesson in Strandhill in the afternoon. Michael was the only one among us who managed to stand up on his board. I mostly felt like Wally the Walrus as I heaved myself up onto the board and failed to catch any waves. Surfing is a lot harder than it looks but we did have a good time.

We had failed to book anywhere for dinner which was a huge mistake and we ended up having the vilest pizza known to man in a bar by the river. I have to say the town was heaving for a Wednesday night in August.

I limped home afterwards, the combination of my sore heel and the surfing rendered me almost entirely immobile for the remainder of the evening.

I noticed herself was a bit freckly despite constant reapplications of suncream. “I know,” she sighed “but as [the physics genius in her class] pointed out to me, the light is still hitting my face as otherwise I would be invisible.” Good point, physics genius.

Thursday, August 12, 2021

I woke up stiff all over. Herself, Mr. Waffle and I went out for breakfast. We had no real plans for the day but after the previous day’s surfing, I offered to buy wetsuits for any child who wanted one. Herself and Michael expressed an interest and we went to a wetsuit superstore around the corner from the Airbnb. We got one for Michael but notwithstanding the startling array of choices there was nothing to fit herself. The owner commented gloomily that there was a world wide wet suit shortage due to the Corona virus and he couldn’t get the stock. Apparently, in the absence of anything else to do, the world is now buying wetsuits and swimming in the sea all year round.

I attempted to take my book back to the library and arrived at 4.50 to discover that it closed at 4.45. I mean, why?

Mr. Waffle and Daniel watched a soccer match and then all of us, bar Michael who resolutely refused to come, drove out to Rosses Point to lie on our backs in the sand dunes in the dark in the hopes of seeing the Perseid shower which had been promised. It is very dark in Sligo which is good, obviously, but it was also very cloudy which was less good. Still it was atmospheric lying on our backs, listening to the sea, and trying to spot the odd star through the cloud cover.

We finished the jigsaw. A triumph.

Friday, August 13, 2021

We were all rudely awoken by hammering and drilling in the house next door at 6 in the morning. I leapt from the bed (no mean feat given that I was still recovering from the surfing extravaganza) in the mistaken belief that one of the children was pounding urgently on the bedroom door. Very bravely, Mr. Waffle went next door and pointed out that it was a bit early for works. They agreed it was and said that they thought the house next door was empty. We all went back to bed.

Later, Mr. Waffle and I went back to Lyons to again sample their delightful breakfast, but, alas, it was closed due to a Covid outbreak. We went instead to a trendier though less satisfactory venue. We had a look around Mullaney’s Drapery which is bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.

As well as meeting all your tweed needs, it boasts a travel agent and general drapery. I bought a tweed throw. I couldn’t help myself, I’ve reached the age when all my furniture is artfully draped with throws, so it won’t go to waste. Grand old chat with the salesman who told us that the Borneo teak doors dated from 1910: lovely curving art nouveau door handles remain in situ as well.

I dropped into the Yeats museum and there was this absolutely wonderful description of the cholera epidemic of 1832 in Sligo by Bram Stoker’s mother. It seems to have been terrifying. Well worth clicking and enlarging the image below for a read.

Also pretty amused by this description of the entertainment available on the Dublin stage in the late 1920s. I am more surprised than I can say, that it went over well with audiences.

That afternoon, herself and I drove to Lissadell but, alas, it was closed due to Covid. We pushed on to Mullaghmore which has a beautiful beach.

I had a lovely swim notwithstanding the slightly unusual warning notice on the approach to the beach. Sligo is full of surprises. And only 12km from Donegal. Who knew?

Mr. Waffle and I went out for our deferred 20th anniversary dinner that evening. The restaurant was nice and the food was nice. I mean, fine, nice, pleasant but not exceptional. I had the cheese board instead of dessert and I was served three pieces of small, slightly dull cheese for which we were charged â‚¬15 which struck me as excessive. In fact in general, I thought Ireland was an expensive place to holiday this year. Eating out, in particular, was expensive but the food was generally only alright. That said it was really difficulty to get in anywhere so I guess the restaurant and pub owners of Ireland know what they are doing.

Saturday August 14, 2021

We went back to Mullaney’s to get a tweed jacket for herself. Something that would last a lifetime. Sadly, they had nothing in her size. Sales have apparently been slow in the absence of Americans. However, the enterprising salesman was quick to pull out a picture of Taylor Swift in an Aran jumper as an inducement to the purchase of same (although he could not quite recall her name). We bought her an Aran jumper.

Mr. Waffle had been keen to climb up to a local landmark: an enormous neolithic tomb. I was a bit reluctant because of my sore heel but said I would give it a go. I was really glad I did. Firstly, it turns out that uphill is fine for my heel. Secondly, the views were magnificent and the tomb pretty impressive (and I speak as someone who as a child was dragged to every megalithic tomb in Munster and can identify a wedge shaped gallery grave from three fields away).

We parked in the fantastically named “Queen Maeve’s Grave Car Park”. Locally the tomb is associated with Queen Maeve. If you have been paying attention (look, I know you have), you will recall that we had been in Carlingford the previous week. This is on the Cooley peninsula where Queen Maeve undertook her famous cattle raid which is an integral part of her legend, so we were basically following her around.

Your correspondent enjoys an ancient monument:

After this early success, we went to Strandhill for lunch. Disastrous, the food was dear and mediocre and the weather was miserable for outdoor dining. We were not living the dream.

We hopped into the car and headed on to Galway which turned out to be a two hour drive away. Who knew that Sligo was so far from everywhere else? I would definitely go back though, it’s a very beautiful part of the world and quite underrated, I think.

Still glad to get to our hotel in Galway where we had booked a swim in the pool and then had the unmitigated thrill of indoor dining for the five of us for the first time on the holidays. The rules are elaborate but here’s a summary: fully vaccinated adults can eat indoors on production of a cert; children under 18 can eat indoors whether vaccinated or not; anyone staying in a hotel regardless of age or vaccination status can eat indoors. A complex compromise but a very welcome one as it was lashing and we did not fancy going around trying to find an outdoor dining venue.

Sunday August 15, 2021

Herself had a friend who was in Galway so she went off with him and his Galway friends for the day. Mr. Waffle, the boys and I wandered the quaint streets of the old town. Galway is lovely and very atmospheric but, I’ve noticed this before, there’s relatively little to do in the town unless you want to meet friends in a pub and listen to traditional music. We went to Spanish Arch, Galway’s most famous landmark, and the boys said, “Is this it?” This is fair, it’s a bit underwhelming. Galway is much more about strolling around and enjoying the general ambience but that is useless if you’re a 15 year old boy. On the plus side, as herself was off with friends, we were able to go indoors to Milano’s for lunch which the boys loved.

I booked us in to an escape room for the afternoon. It was a bit hard for us – generally we do reasonably well but we were pretty stumped and had to ask for a number of clues and I found it a bit dull as we waited around for enlightenment. On the plus side, we got good value for our money, as we stayed for ages and herself was pleased as she identified herself as the secret sauce which had helped us to triumph in the past.

We took ourselves back to the hotel for a swim and dinner mentally exhausted.

Stay tuned for the next installment where we go South.

The Last Lap

1 August, 2021
Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Princess, Siblings, Travel, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

Monday, July 19, 2021

Herself expressed an interest in playing tennis and the three children trotted out together. They seem to have had a reasonable time. I was delighted as an ongoing source of guilt this summer is how little I have organised for them, particularly the boys.

Herself was able to register for her vaccine. It seems to be moving along very speedily now.

Tuesday, July 20, 2021

Michael and I dined alone as Daniel and his father were at a GAA match and herself was out cycling.

Herself went for a cycle in the park with her (male) friend and she was exhausted when she got home having cycled at speed for hours. Her friend was trying to slow down but compared to her female friends and her mother, he was pretty speedy. Good for her, doubtless.

Wednesday, July 21, 2021 – Belgian National Day

The boys headed off to their aunt and uncle in Cork again and I was thrilled as I felt that it would give them a change of scene and the weather was terrific.

We moved the kitchen table outside. Satisfactory. The tablecloth is one I brought up from Cork. I remember buying it with my mother in Venice in the 1980s. It hasn’t seen much action since then as it’s a bit small for larger groups. It could do with an iron as well but it was too hot to contemplate approaching an iron.

The boys made it to Cork safely.

Thursday, July 22, 2021

The boys went to west Cork with their aunt and tried out the Dursey island cable car. The consensus was that it was not as exciting as it looks. They had glorious weather for it though.

Meanwhile, in Dublin, we baked in the heat. Jam season continued. From farm (i.e. front garden):

To fork:

Friday, July 23, 2021

In anticipation of the (much deferred) arrival of the plumbers on Monday, Mr. Waffle decamped from the utility room where he has been based since March of last year and took the last of his stuff back to the office. The end of an era.

Herself got her vaccine appointment for the next week (imagine) and we went out for an outdoor lunch together. Still very warm.

The boys were off in a hotel in Bantry with their aunt enjoying the luxury of indoor dining.

My lily has outdone itself this year. It needed a bit of extra support so I took a length of bamboo from the forest at the end of the neighbours’ garden adjoining ours. Theft or thinning of bamboo that’s probably good for it? My family have one view, I have another. Your thoughts would be welcome provided they chime with mine.

Saturday, July 24, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I went out for breakfast to a local cafe for the first time in ages. We got more fun from this bag than you might expect. What order are the languages listed in? The only clue I will give you is that a bureaucratic mind was involved in this process. Answer below.*

We got a call from herself who had declined to come with us. “There’s someone in the house,” she whispered into the phone. “There isn’t, I’m sure,” said Mr. Waffle, “if there were, the cat would be going crazy.” “She is going crazy,” hissed herself. I zoomed home. There was not, in fact someone in the house. We’d left the back door open and the noise of the window cleaner working next door had floated upstairs and unnerved her (he came and did our windows next which was handy). The cat was indeed going crazy because she had managed to get herself in through a tiny hole in the cupboard under the stairs and couldn’t get back out again. What attracted her there? More mice or worse? Or just general perverseness? Mr. Waffle had to unscrew a wooden panel to let her out again. Idiot cat.

I went into town and bought a variety of exciting homewares. Even though I really shouldn’t. I mean, where is all the stuff from my parents’ house going to go?

Mr Waffle and I took the Dart out to Booterstown. A young man on the platform was telling all his friends how he had recovered from Covid. He ate a raw onion the other night and couldn’t taste anything. It seems, at best, unfortunate but he was delighted with himself.

We visited Mr. Waffle’s mother and then cycled on to Dalkey which was short of tea shops but we managed (middle aged problems if ever I saw them). I thought Bullock Harbour might work for a swim but it was more for jumping in and I wasn’t in a jumping in kind of mood so we went to Sandycove. The water was lovely but it was crowded. A young man was on a paddle board with a very small baby who was howling the place down. I offered to assist but he said her mother was coming. She was. Tense times in that relationship though as the baby howled the place down and the mother picked her way out among the sharp stones. Lads, I do not miss the challenges of minding small children.

While Mr. Waffle and I were out disporting ourselves, herself continued to work on her summer translation job – she’s translating something for a friend of Mr. Waffle’s and is near the end and the payout of filthy lucre – and the boys were off on Bere Island. My sister’s partner’s parents have a house there and they kindly invited the boys. It was so warm even Michael swam.

Sunday, July 25, 2021

This is the anniversary of my lovely Nana’s death. At mass the priest told us it was grandparents’ day. Who knew? I said a prayer for her although I doubt she needed it having been very saintly. I often think how strange it was that she would have worn long Edwardian skirts (she was born in 1897). I mean I know this seems an odd thing to obsess about but I just wonder what it was like to wear those clothes, they seem so remote from us now. She died in 1984 when I was 15 and I never really asked her about when she was young or the characters from the War of Independence (about whom she had views I understand from my mother – my grandmother got a medal and an army pension but I think she was always a bit ambivalent about some of the activities, she took the pension but applied it to charitable causes). I was an age, when she died, when she was a beloved character in my story but, for me, without any back story of her own. I tried to avoid something similar happening with my children and their Cork grandfather but this led to baffling sessions where I forced my unwilling children to ask my father questions about his youth and he said, “I don’t remember” and returned promptly to his newspaper. Perhaps these interests only come with age.

In the afternoon I took myself off alone to go for a swim as herself was still translating and Mr. Waffle didn’t fancy it. I left my phone behind in case it was nicked. Things I use my phone for as well as, obviously, phoning and texting: taking photos; listening to podcasts; internet browsing including checking the Dart timetable; telling the time (my watch is in for rather expensive repairs); navigating (google maps); paying for stuff (Apple pay, everyone has digital payments now, even the man selling ice cream from a van at the beach). I was surprised at how unnerved I was heading out without it. I mean I only got a smart phone for the first time in 2011, I have lived 80% of my life without one. I felt a bit of an idiot for being so dependent. You will be delighted to hear that I managed to get myself out for the afternoon without my phone and inspected the newly pedestrianised streets of Dun Laoghaire (grand, good even) and have a swim in Seapoint (heaving) and cycle without getting lost. No photos though.

Poor Mr. Waffle had a work call at 9 in the evening. But otherwise the evening was uneventful as we prepared ourselves mentally for our last week at work before the holidays and the arrival of the plumber and his accolytes at 7.30 in the morning. They were to begin the much deferred bathroom revamp (deferred from last October but in a very real way deferred from 2013 when we moved in and couldn’t afford to do it up – we’ve been living with the previous owners tiles for a long time). I feel a whole new post will be required to cover the bathroom excitement. Hold on to your hats out there.

*It’s alphabetical by language in the language. So Spanish is ES – looks out of order right? ES is the ISO code for Spanish but, obviously, Castellano is the Spanish for Spanish so it appears not after Danish as you would expect but after Bulgarian. The same is true for Finnish which reflects in its position the fact that Suomi is the Finnish for Finnish. Hours of harmless entertainment for all the family. I’m not sure I can stop at any time any more which is its own concern to be honest.

The Four Provinces Tour: Part 3 – Leinster

29 August, 2020
Posted in: Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, August 17, 2020

We had intended to stop for lunch at an appealing cafe but sadly it was closed down indefinitely. We limped around the back roads hunting for an alternative. We passed by Clonmacnoise , like literally passed the front gate of Ireland’s most famous monastic settlement which it transpired none of my children had ever heard of but, happily for them, it was closed. Offaly was in local lockdown and this included the local heritage sites.

We pushed on past plague country and into Westmeath which was open. I thought Moate might be nice. I don’t want to be unfair to Moate and nowhere is at its best in driving rain but I thought it was a grim enough spot. Almost all the cafes were closed Mondays but we eventually got lunch in a vile little deli and sat outside on the side of the road in the rain eating it. Unlovely.

We were home a little over an hour later. There was endless souvenir unpacking – my tea towel needs are met for a life time. You may admire a sample staged for your delectation along with the made in China ewer.

The cat was quite peeved with us but relented eventually. The marmalade we had bought as part of a present package for the neighbours to thank them for minding the cat leaked with predictably disastrous results.

I had another couple of days off and I decided to go down to Cork and visit my father the following day.