Travel

Summer Plans

15 May, 2022 4 Comments
Posted in: Belgium, Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Work

A couple of years ago, an Italian friend of Mr. Waffle’s asked whether we would be interested in doing an exchange with her nephew in Rome and one of our sons in Dublin. Covid put paid to the original plan but now it is back and Daniel is going to Rome for a week and we’ll have an Italian teenager here.

I was a bit worried about Daniel flying on his own. I anxiously asked him whether he thought he would be ok and he pointed out to me that he had already flown to Paris on his own a number of years ago which, I confess, I had forgotten. He flew as an unaccompanied minor though so was thoughtfully shuttled about by a bored airline employee. Mr. Waffle is adamant that the humiliation of flying aged 16 as an unaccompanied minor (they have to wear a special label around their necks; they are herded together and most of them are under 12) would be the death of Daniel and that he will be perfectly fine on his own. He suggested that if I am concerned I could adopt his own mother’s technique of approaching someone I like the look of in the check-in queue and asking him or her to keep an eye on my child. More mortifying surely? Your views would be welcome on this issue which is the subject of animated domestic discussion. I am forced to point out that Daniel himself thinks he would be fine.

Daniel doesn’t speak any Italian but he is game for the trip to Rome and I do hope he will enjoy it. I lived in Rome for a while in my early 20s and absolutely loved it. I really feel for my children who have had so many of the normal teenage fun things denied to them but have had all of the angst and then some. Michael has astounded me by announcing that he wants to go on a school trip to Brussels to visit the European institutions. Under normal circumstances, he is not one for travel but the lure of a trip to the European institutions was too much for him to resist. I am not even joking.

Last night we told herself that the day she returns from England and Italian teenager will be arriving to stay with us. She is already a bit tetchy in the run up to her exams and I wouldn’t say this piece of information improved her mood. “I wouldn’t have come home at all had I known that there were to be Italian teenage boys or indeed teenage boys of any nationality in the house,” she announced imperiously. As her own brothers who live here are teenage boys that was always a pretty lofty aspiration, nonetheless, my hopes that she might entertain the Italian teenager (who will be 18 in August so possibly a bit old for Dan) were definitely delivered a blow. She’s hoping to go to Paris for a bit of the summer and if she does I fully plan to visit. Let us hope this will be welcome news in due course.

I have had to delay my year of rest and relaxation by a week or so due to an upcoming work crisis which my boss begged me to stay for. I am not immune to flattery (on the contrary) but given that I am counting the days extra time – and stressful extra time at that – seems a bit tedious. I will now be finishing on June 17 and I cannot wait. On the 20th I am off to England to collect herself staying with friends in England en route. I am thrilled.

Anois Teacht an Earraigh

27 February, 2022
Posted in: Boys, Cork, Daniel, Family, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Work

It’s been a busy month. It would have been my mother’s 86th birthday on the 1st of February; the feast of St. Brigid (and from next year we’re going to get an extra bank holiday to celebrate it as well – a Covid dividend apparently). She was very fond of this poem and often quoted from it. Apparently we do all turn into our mothers.

At mass a small child was running around the church. I recognised her mother and realised that she was the last baby baptised before the pandemic started (I mean I think that the church was still baptising away, but the pre-baptism meeting with the outreach team was halted for the duration of the pandemic). It has been a long haul. Particularly for the parents of young children I would imagine.

Life is gradually getting back to normal. From tomorrow, we can stop wearing masks in most places. The other night Mr. Waffle went out for a drink with his friends; “just like a real boy,” said Daniel who in his sister’s absence is bidding fair to become our most sarcastic resident. It is not, however, that he never met his friends in the pub before but that it has been a couple of years since he has done so and the boys have just forgotten what it was like before.

Mr. Waffle and I went to the cinema for the first time since the pandemic started (if you don’t count the time we went to see the Met live streamed and I really don’t). We saw Belfast. It got rave reviews and I did quite enjoy it but it wasn’t as fantastic as everyone said. I asked my friend from Belfast (who grew up six minutes walk away from Kenneth Branagh’s street) what he thought and he said he felt that broadly it was quite realistic – though no one is buying that after a Presbyterian funeral the mourners were invited to do a bit of singing and dancing. My friend did comment that he felt Branagh really wanted it to be a musical but lacked the nerve to follow through on that ambition – you can see how a musical about the start of the Troubles might be.. challenging. Once you’ve heard that it’s hard to shake that insight. I was surprised how much a working-class Protestant childhood in Belfast in the 60s was like a middle-class Catholic childhood in Cork in the 70s. They even had the same Christmas tree as us. And also, a favourite song of my father’s – from some film I think – “Do not forsake me oh my darling” was featured on the soundtrack. I don’t think I’ve heard it since he died.

February is rugby season and Dan has been to see see the Irish team lose to France with his uncle a couple of weeks ago (did you see anyone you knew at the match? yes another uncle from the other side of the family – Ireland is tiny) and win against Italy today. Neither entirely satisfactory – the first for obvious reasons and the second because it was a massacre. Oh well. I remember two years ago when lock down started during the six nations – I am not a massive rugby fan but I am so glad to see it back. Poor Daniel has been injured again in GAA (no matches or training for a week says the physio), at least it isn’t rugby, I suppose, where his never give up attitude could be quite terrifying.

We had friends round to dinner. We went to an exhibition (on the Treaty in Dublin Castle – a bit dull but worthy and, you know, an exhibition).

My sister and I went on a food tasting tour in Cork. Not bad but it started at 10.30 and the first bite of food did not pass our lips until 11.45. Can I tell you how much I regretted skipping breakfast so that I would have room for all the food I was going to taste? Anyway, the best tip was always book a food tour when you go to a new city as, by definition, it will be run by people who love food and will be able to give you great restaurant tips for your stay. I give you this for free.

The tour guide described how he met Prince Albert of Monaco when he (the tour guide) was doing some yacht racing and Prince Albert asked him where he was from. Our guide said Ireland and Prince Albert said, “My mother was Irish.” “I know,” said the guide. I quite liked the modest assumption of Albert that we might not know who his mother was. She was American, of course, but we can be flexible when it suits us. She stayed in the Imperial Hotel when she came to Cork, if you’re interested. It’s also where I got my first morsel of food when on the food tour and where my granny and Aunt Cecilia used to meet for afternoon tea on a Saturday. A historic spot.

In other, it’s all over bar the shouting, news herself had some school friends visit her in England and then we came across to see her. God, it lashed rain. Due to a booking mishap we had to move accommodation during the two days we were there and we traipsed miserably about with our sodden bag rolling behind us.

However, notwithstanding the appalling climactic conditions, we had a lovely time overall. The Princess showed us around, found good places for us to eat and introduced us to her English friends (lovely, articulate, polite young people who were nice to her brothers – gold star). We went to a museum. I went to evensong where two of her friends sang (one of them is -gasp – Tiktok famous) and it was absolutely beautiful.

I said to her, “I see everyone’s wearing those pearls on their eyes now that you had a couple of years ago. ” Very fashion forward though I still think a bit daft looking. “Where did you get them?” I asked because they were definitely not available in the make up shops then. “From the wedding stationery bit of Eason’s,” she said. Maybe she’ll make a fortune yet as some kind of futurologist.

After our visit to herself in college, we went to London for a couple of days. Did you know that you can pay for transport in London with your contactless bank card? Hands down the most impressive transport innovation of my lifetime. Delighted.

We travelled by boat,

we went to the London Eye,

the Tower of London, Covent Garden, the British Museum (briefly to check out a complaint written in cuneiform which Daniel had seen on the internet), Hodge’s statue,

Leadenhall market (adjacent to Gracechurch street where, enthusiasts will remember Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner lived, Michael who spent the week reading Pride and Prejudice was resolutely unimpressed but I, a true fan, was charmed),

and Mr. Waffle’s sister’s family for dinner and an exciting chance to inspect their new house purchased last year.

It was all excellent though slightly exhausting. I was never happier to splurge on a taxi than when I had walked from Bloomsbury to the Tower of London. What was truly wonderful was having the London relatives on tap for advice on what to do and – possibly more importantly – where to eat near the various attractions. It was like having an expert guide with full knowledge of you and your family’s needs. In fact, actually, that was exactly what it was. It was the best trip I’ve had in a very long time (even pre-Covid). Still, I was possibly influenced by the fact that it was very, very nice to be abroad for the first time since summer 2019*.

I was a little unnerved when we got home and Michael said that it was good to be back somewhere the Russians were less likely to think of as a target. Does he not realise his sister is living in England? Oh the poor Ukrainians.

And in final it is over, surely it’s over, news, I’ve decided to take a bit of time off work. I am flattened. My mother died in June 2019, my father died in December 2020, work has been tough in the pandemic, herself has left home and her brothers will be finishing school next year and moving on to a new part of their lives. I feel a bit like it’s now or never. So I will be removing myself from the labour market from June 2022 until October 2023. I have no major plans, I will not be travelling the world or writing my novel. I might rejoin the tennis club; that’s about the height of it. Funnily enough one of my bookclub friends is also taking some time out. I am very conscious that I am lucky to be able to do this.

Let me know your own post pandemic plans.

*Updated to add: my sister points out that I was in the Netherlands last autumn. Mr. Waffle points out that we were also in England in the autumn. Oops.

Going Dutch

4 November, 2021
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel

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: Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Travel, Work

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: Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Travel

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 €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: Boys, Daniel, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel

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 €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.