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The Schedule

30 November, 2024
Posted in: Princess, Travel

When the Princess was at Oxford, I used to visit occasionally and at some point in this process, herself introduced the schedule.

This has been the best thing for our relationship and everyone’s sanity. Term is busy at college and she would always have lots of things on and need to write essays and study as well. Before the schedule, these things would arise at short notice for me anyway (there is no point expecting me to remember details of a social or academic engagement conveyed to me some time ago) and it was a bit unsatisfactory for both of us. Part of the problem was that I was coming for a relatively long time. I was visiting from Ireland so always came for a couple of nights at least rather than a day or even an afternoon which was much more feasible for parents based in London, say.

The schedule changed all this. I knew when she was available and when not. I was able to get dropped off at the lovely little art museum in Christ Church (recommended) or go to the shops or some other fun thing suggested by herself while she went to her tutorials or whatever. It was, as the annoying expression goes, a game changer.

I am visiting her this weekend (bringing this to you live from a glamorous airport bus station) and the schedule has just dropped and it looks amazing. I am v excited.

The schedule is now a fixture. For example, in summer 2023 I was supposed to join her in Florence for the weekend after she finished her art history course and below is the schedule she prepared. Alas, neither of us got to enjoy it. My favourite aunt died and we went to her funeral instead. But maybe we will live the Florentine adventure another time. As my London sister-in-law says, “Life is long”.

Thursday 20th DOWNTOWN

1pm Arrival 

1:17pm Il Santo Bevitore for lunch

3:30pm Uffizi 

7:30pm Osteria Antica Mescita San Niccolo 

9:45 pm Romeo and Juliet at the Uffizi

Friday 21st SANTO SPIRITO 

Brancacci chapel

8:15pm Loggia rooftop

Saturday 22nd NORTH

Museo di San Marco

8pm L’Ortone

Sunday 23rd DOWNTOWN

Market

2pm departure 

It’s a lot of work for her but honestly I think she thinks it’s worth it. It’s an opportunity for her to show off a place she knows to me and both of us know what to expect. The effort she puts in to planning and booking things she knows I will like fills me with joy. In some ways no one knows me better than her and she can always judge what I will enjoy so in addition to the warm feeling I get from all her effort, I really look forward to doing the things proposed and they always deliver.

I say all this in case anyone else out there thinks spontaneity can be a bit overrated sometimes.

Also it’s the last day of Nablopomo. Posts next month will be more…spontaneous.

You Gotta Hoooold on for One More Day*

29 November, 2024
Posted in: Ireland, Travel

I am nearly at the end of November. Content is very limited indeed. I played tennis last night and woke up this morning with a sore shoulder, a sore wrist and a sore lower back. I recovered over the course of the day but I would describe this as an ominous development.

Today is the general election. I voted.

A man came and cut back everything in our garden. I am simultaneously delighted and horrified. I suppose the weeds will all grow back in due course. I took a before picture but it’s too dark for an after picture. Something for you to look forward to next week.

Tomorrow at the crack of dawn (10.00), I fly to England to visit herself.

*Just in case you need the reference. Unlikely I feel but you never know.

Home Again, Home Again

10 November, 2024
Posted in: Cork, Ireland, Siblings, Travel

And I’m back from the fleshpots of Cork.

I had an exciting day. I went to the Glucksman for my breakfast (a gallery cafe – not bad but not at all as good as the old Crawford Gallery cafe for which I will probably grieve forever). They only had seats outside where I went with some trepidation but despite slight drizzle towards the end of breakfast, it was actually fine even though there were no outdoor heaters.

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Thrillingly, the Christmas craft fair was on in the Glucksman. I mean, I love any old craft fair but this one is really good. All the people manning the stalls had made the stuff themselves, which I really enjoy. I bought a Christmas decoration from a potter and a tea towel from a lovely man who draws lighthouses. We had a little chat, he’s originally from Antwerp. Not so many lighthouses in that neck of the woods. Honestly, I could have stayed for hours but I did not because I was already running late for my next event.

My sister had a spare ticket to an interview with some director from Cork I’d never heard of and I agreed to go with her. It was in the Triskel, Cork’s premier arts venue once a church and, still boasting the slightly uncomfortable benches which are part of any church experience. There were about 50 people there.

The director appeared, a guy called John Crowley. He was really interesting, a genuinely fascinating man; he was about the same age as me and a year behind me in college (I learn from Wikipedia but this is not quite how it describes his college career) and a stalwart of the Dramat but I can’t say I remember any productions in which he was involved. He talked about the films he had made (loads) and then I realised he was the director of Brooklyn and the Goldfinch (as he said, “one of those much more successful than the other, kind of you not to mention it”) and Life After Life and the second season of True Detective and tons and tons of stuff. He was super-understated and just very pleasant as well as knowledgeable. It was a revelation, he has a new film out which screened as part of the Cork film festival (We Live in Time) which I will definitely be going to see when it comes out. It struck me that if he were from Dublin I would definitely have read about him in the Irish Times and indeed this event but the Irish Times does have a tendency to gloss over people who don’t live in or come from Dublin. Is it any wonder Cork people are, I don’t want to say bitter, but bitter adjacent.

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And one final, thing as Columbo would say, a very famous chipper in Cork called Jackie Lennox’s closed down. It was such big news that it was even covered in the Irish Times. My brother queued for about three hours for fish and chips on its last day of operation.

Anyhow, when I was visiting my parents’ cemetery on Tory Top road (Cork word for a pine cone, unknown anywhere else), I passed the establishment in the photograph below. It has (you will have to take my word for it) the same lettering as the closed down chipper. It has obviously been here for some time. What is going on? A real mystery.

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The Boat to England

8 November, 2024
Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel

Mr. Waffle and I drove herself to England at the start of October. Having finished a degree in foreign parts you would think she might come home but no, she is doing a master’s as well. The whole thing was rendered a great deal more stressful than it might have been by having the car booked in for a service the day before departure. It was going to be ready, then it wasn’t, then they were waiting for a part. It was a roller coaster during which we looked up hire cars (not actually very easy to find car hire people who will let you take the car out of the jurisdiction) and investigated how to change the ferry booking. There was a great deal of trauma which is frankly being skimmed over in this paragraph.

This was the first time Mr. Waffle had done this trip and he kept commenting on how onerous it was. “It’s even worse when you have to do all the driving yourself,” I kept saying grumpily.

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Baltics VI – Estonia – Tartu to Tallinn

3 November, 2024
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday August 19

Absolutely everything of a cultural nature appeared to be closed. It is not the first time I have been caught out by this and doubtless it will not be the last.

Buoyed up by our experience the previous day we headed off on the electric bikes. The brakes were a on Dan’s on the downhill trip into town in the lashing rain and he fell over in a controlled but none the less alarming fashion. No harm done but a slightly unnerving start to the day all the same.

The Princess and I went to the shops where she looked at skincare and we acquired another very expensive but lovely Moomin mug. I think if we only buy one every 3-4 years the expense is bearable.

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The weather cleared up and again, building on the success of the previous day, a select group went to inspect the ruined cathedral on the hill and the university.

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After depositing Michael at home, I went back into town with Daniel to inspect the really excellent sports museum. Open on a Monday what’s not to love? It was small but interactive.

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It had some nice memorabilia from previous Olympics.

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This included a lot of Olympic mascots.

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Surprisingly entertaining. We went for a cup of tea in the square with Mr. Waffle to recover. All museums are exhausting.

We all had a chance to look at this peculiar sculpture. It’s the artist and his son and he scaled himself down and the baby up and the result is, well, peculiar.

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When we got home, we were reminded that herself is allergic to mosquitos by the arresting sight of what looked like an enormous bump on her forehead but was in fact a mosquito bite. I don’t have a photograph – I’m not a monster – but she was most displeased.

Her boyfriend is thinking of going into her father’s line of work and he asked her about what her father does. “I don’t know,” said she, “he types on his computer a lot and shouts at it a bit.” Such an accurate description of the day to day travails of many knowledge workers.

Saintly Daniel made dinner.

Tuesday August 20, 2024

This was “Re-independence day” when the Estonians got their independence back after the events of 1991. The net effect was that everything was closed again. Sigh. One of the children said to me, “What do people who don’t visit museums do when they go to visit cities?” and I honestly don’t know.

Daniel and I were up early looking for breakfast – everywhere was closed but we had a nice cycle around the city, I said to him encouragingly.

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I am not really sure he was convinced. Before breakfast I find that enthusiasm levels can be low. Café Werner – famous local spot – eventually met our needs. I was extremely grateful.

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It actually was a nice cycle and there were Estonia flags everywhere. Most houses seem to come equipped with a bracket from which to fly your flag. Perhaps a legacy of an earlier time.

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After breakfast four of us left to drive to Tallinn and herself stayed on for the day to further sample the delights of Tartu (really probably my favourite place on the trip along with the Curonian Spit) and get the train later which was also a welcome development for her siblings who were crowded in the back of the car.

Our first port of call (har di har) in Tallinn was the ferry port. Happily we had a great deal of time on hand. It felt like we were driving around in circles but we did eventually reach our destination and send Michael off on the ferry to Helsinki to meet a Finnish friend from college. Again, I was slightly concerned about the fate of my chickadee but, spoiler alert, he was absolutely fine.

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Daniel, Mr. Waffle and I repaired to a ramen place herself had recommended. Another triumph; the big revelation for me this holiday (aside from the Baltic Germans and the Teutonic knights I suppose – Mr. Waffle has just got a book about Baltic Germans out of the library so I look forward to further updates over the course of November) was my firstborn’s absolute genius for finding nice restaurants. You may recall that she had spent some time in Tallinn improving her Russian earlier in the summer so she had had ample opportunity to scout out the kind of place I like. People, she had not wasted her time.

After lunch we went to a nice park outside the city for a wander about – Mr. Waffle likes a park. I’m fond of a park myself provided it has a nice cafe. This one did. I enjoyed some miniature pancakes in the sun.

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Access to our airbnb was a bit traumatic. It was in the pedestrian part of town and we had to park at the edge and lug the luggage from car to the flat and then up 5 flights of stairs. I say we but I was the one sitting in the car with the hazards on and then – traumatic enough in its own mild way – getting it to the car park. The accommodation was huge yet somehow unsatisfactory. Two of the bedrooms were divided from the living space by curtains. What is wrong with that very successful invention – the door?

The others were a bit flattened so I walked down to the station to meet herself.

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When Mr. Waffle and I were young and used to go on skiing trips organised by my brother-in-law, people from the group would often ask him (b-in-l), “When’s happy hour?”. He would not know, having arrived at the same time as the rest of us. In our family locution when someone makes an unreasonable request which you cannot be expected to answer or know, the words “When’s happy hour?” are deployed to indicate that this is the case.

When the Princess and I returned to the flat, an exhausted me flopped on the sofa after a long day and some rash individual inquired, “What’s for dinner?” “When’s happy hour?” I replied grumpily. “This is unhappy hour,” said herself dolefully. Perhaps you had to be there but it effectively improved the mood.

We went to the supermarket and picked something up. I forgot my bag for life container (pictured below). Instead of writing it off, like a sensible person might, I wearily trekked back down the five flights of stairs and out to the supermarket. Great was my triumph on finding it but overall, possibly not the wisest thing I have ever done.

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Nevertheless, after dinner we were all miraculously restored and went out for a drink. We returned to the restaurant in the main square where many years ago we had vareniki for the first time. Thrills.

Wednesday August 21, 2024

Mr. Waffle and I brought the car to the airport. Time was tight and I nearly had heart failure as I got us lost all over the city in an attempt to find a petrol station to fill up the car. As herself so wisely observed, we are not really car people.

When we returned the car it turned out that the boot remote control worked fine. You just needed to press it for a second longer. Can I say it again? We are not really car people.

On our return to the city, we had breakfast with herself but I was struck down by a migraine and retired to my bed until the middle of the afternoon when I gingerly emerged blinking in the sunlight.

Herself took us to a part of the city we had not been to before. The Tallinn locals seem to have made some kind of Faustian pact with tourism. The old town – which is lovely – is completely given over to tourists. It’s like Disney, no schools, few shops other than tourist ones and very few local residents as far as I can see. The part we went to that day was a shopping area outside the old town. It was nice and seemed to be almost tourist free. I found the whole thing slightly disturbing in a way I can’t entirely put my finger on.

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We bought Daniel a new shirt as herself had booked us in to a fancy dinner place. We got him a grandfather shirt, something I last saw widely worn in the 1980s when I was in college. Is it back?

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Our fancy restaurant had a tasting menu. Michael is not a fan of the tasting menu so it seemed a good thing to do while he was off in the flesh pots of Helsinki. I must say we had a really lovely time. And it was delicious.

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Thursday August 22

Herself had identified somewhere out in the suburbs as a good spot for breakfast so with our local guide we got the tram successfully. Public transport in a foreign city; always such a challenge.

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It was very Russian out there in the cafe in the suburbs. Interesting.

After breakfast we did some mild shopping. I love a high class souvenir shop and herself knew where to bring me. Satisfactory.

After lunch we went to the seaplane museum which is supposed to be excellent but I found it pretty dull. There was some interesting stuff about ice roads and how in winter in the old days there were all these roads on the sea but, I could take it or leave it (even if it does also feature a very claustrophobic submarine).

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Leaving those with higher tolerances for seaplane trivia behind me I took a taxi to the port to collect Michael. The taxi driver spoke only Russian and Estonian so yet again I hauled out my limited Russian linguistic skills. You can tell how well it went because after my attempts at communication he said to me, “Are you Polish?”.

Michael made it back safely though completely exhausted. In my mind’s eye I had seen him playing very elaborate board games and not leaving the house. I think that is how he saw it in his mind’s eye also but his friend felt obliged to show him all the sights. Even though Michael reassured him that he had seen all the sights in Helsinki and really had no particular desire to see them again, his friend was not to be deterred. I think Michael was quite glad to be back in the bosom of his family.

It turns out that like his Latvian friend, his Finnish friend’s family were also Russian speakers. “This is beyond coincidence,” I announced to the family when we got home. “Twice is the definition of coincidence,” said herself. Truly I have a great deal to put up with.

Friday August 23, 2024

We went to visit the Kiek in de Kok tower which is an interesting and well laid out city museum with a restaurant with no savoury food. They are truly missing a trick there.

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After lunch at home, I forced everyone out to recreate the photo we had taken when we were last in Tallinn. Very low levels of enthusiasm from the troops but I had the bit between my teeth.

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We went for a wander round the old town which is nice, I mean it is, but somehow not as nice as it was when we were new to it in 2019. “Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder” as Patrick Kavanagh would say. And I think we were all keen to get home by this stage so perhaps that accounted for it too.

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Saturday August 24, 2024

We hauled the luggage downstairs and took off for the airport in two taxis. To my absolute delight – and hers – I had a Ukrainian taxi driver and we were able to have a mild conversation. I mean, she did lose me regularly but it was better than my Russian conversations. And it was Ukrainian independence day so that was nice.

And then we were at the airport, glad to be going home. It presented its own photo ops which I am a little curious about.

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I wandered to the newsagents and there was the FT weekend. I forked out a fortune but it was a long enough flight, I reasoned. Yes, you have guessed it, for the second time I purchased a weekend edition I had already read (in fact, if you’re counting it was third time in all that I had purchased that edition). As Mr. Waffle said, the FT welcomes detail orientated purchasers.

Baltics V – Estonia – Pärnu to Tartu

2 November, 2024
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

I know, when will it end?

Thursday August 15

We went into town for lunch and, with some difficulty, downloaded the parking app and parked before going to the Edelweiss cafe for lunch. As you might imagine. Fine if you like Bratwurst and Sauerkraut.

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We hired bikes and used the excellent cycling infrastructure to get ourselves to the beach. The Baltics seem to be big on cycling in beach resorts. The beach was pretty busy but nice and the water was lovely. Herself said to me “We’re fooling ourselves when we say it’s Baltic when we get into the water in Ireland – this is much warmer.” Very true.

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There were some tensions in relation to directions on the bikes but eventually peace was restored and we went and looked at the Tallinn Gate and an art Nouveau house.

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When we got home my brilliant husband suggested take away for dinner. What a thrill. The actual take away was only ok and subsequently herself informed me that the review did indicate some food hygiene issues involving rodents. However I was not ill and sitting in the lovely garden eating my mediocre take away all was right with the world.

Friday August 16

Herself, Daniel and I decided to go into town for breakfast. As we were driving in, I realised that the parking app was on Mr. Waffle’s phone. My digital natives downloaded it double quick including using my face to add my credit card details. I now use my face instead of passwords for many things and I have a vague fear that if I am disfigured and in the hospital in addition to all my other problems I will not be able to pay for anything as I have no idea what my passcodes are. Anyhow, we had a delightful breakfast and last wander around Pärnu. My God, herself is really a genius at finding cafes and restaurants.

We packed up and left Pärnu to get the ferry from Virtsu. In case you were wondering, it is not hard to change the time on your ferry ticket if you arrive early.

We had a lovely, lovely lunch in Muhu which is a tiny sleepy little island.

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Saarema, where we are staying is attached to Muhu by a bridge.

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We had plenty of time to get to our airbnb so we went to have a look at a large tree in the centre of a football field on Saaremaa. As Daniel said, “A solid presence in midfield.” A real holiday sight.

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Kuressaare where we were staying was a holiday town and it is very strange to think that it was guarded by dogs and soldiers in another time. It’s pretty, it has a castle and shortly after we arrived, a car rally passed through.

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Estonia is a very digital place and when we got to the supermarket to lay in supplies for the evening there were no staff that we could see and we were invited to download an app to pay for our shopping. Sadly, Apple told me that it was “not available in your region”. I had travelled all day, had a trolley full of shopping I was anxious to pay for, impatient Estonian customers behind me and no way to pay. I am not enjoying the digital revolution as much as I might be. Eventually we found a till where you could pay without the app. Possibly we would have found it earlier if we spoke better Estonian. It took a lot out of me.

I also had not one but two mosquito bites on the sole of my foot and three on my heel. Overall, I was not totally enjoying myself.

Saturday August 17

The morning was more cheerful. Those of us who were interested had breakfast and a wander around town.

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After lunch Michael, Mr. Waffle and I went for a visit to the castle.

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Aside from the loss of Michael’s cap (with us since an emergency purchase in Stockholm at prohibitive expense), it was an entirely successful visit. There was a really interesting exhibition about what Kuressaare was like in Soviet times. A bit grim. It seems very alien and different from how it is now.

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It also boasted an excellent gift shop and cafe. What more could the discerning tourist want?

Saaremaa is famous for having a number of meteorite strikes so we went to have a look. Would I have known that it wasn’t just a pond without the helpful signage? I doubt it.

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There was much trauma when we got home as we tried to book our ferry back to the mainland for the following day. Apparently everyone wants to go back to the mainland on Sunday. We had some debate about when to go (it was a long drive and Mr. Waffle wanted us to go in the morning, I felt it wasn’t that long and wanted us to go in the afternoon). As we…debated the 10.15 and 14.40 slots disappeared before our eyes and we booked the last slot on the 8.30 just in time. This meant we would have to leave at 7 in the morning which in my view was not ideal.

Given that our morning was to be so cruelly curtailed, Daniel and I went out for an evening swim behind the castle. There were other people swimming there but the water was odd, weirdly like swimming in a peat lake in the Wicklow mountains and there were ducks bobbing about so I am not entirely sure you could say that we swam in open water.

Herself, yet again, starred and found us an amazing place for dinner. It was newly opened and run by a lovely local who was full of enthusiasm. I am so impressed by my daughter’s skills; I asked her to show me how she did it and, honestly, it seemed like a lot of work so I think I will just call her, if I ever need advice. She’s delighted, obviously.

Sunday August 18

We were up at 6 and all v grumpy. We found definitive photographic confirmation of Michael’s lost hat in castle but we were not going to be able to retrieve it before departure. Alas.

Our airbnb had an electric gate and when we went to leave, a very, very drunken man was clinging to it. To be fair to him, it was actually the night before. He tried to launch himself away from the gate several times and each time, he had to come back for support. I thought we’d never get out but eventually he sailed off and we were able to get on the road.

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We made the ferry no problem and our journey back to the mainland was uneventful. We began our epic drive to Tartu. It was not as epic as we expected. Somehow google maps had allowed hours and hours for the 15 minute ferry ride and it quickly became apparent that rather than driving all day, we would be there for lunch time. We were all pretty pleased, especially Mr. Waffle who regards google maps as the work of Satan and here was the proof.

On the drive we saw many storks in nests. Michael told a KGB joke which I definitely wanted to repeat here but sadly have forgotten in the two months since I first heard it. Herself told us that Byron and Moore of Moore’s melodies were best buds. Who knew? This is how we beguiled our journey. Good job it wasn’t as long as we thought it was going to be.

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We had considered cutting Tartu from our itinerary because it was so far east of Saaremaa and such a long drive. For a range of reasons, I am very glad we did not. Tartu is a lovely, lovely university town. Our airbnb was absolutely fantastic and though relatively small, it was perfectly laid out ( it was down the road from a spot where Lesya Ukrainka had lived – I was charmed though I must say my attempts to learn her easy poems in Ukrainian had completely failed).

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Mr Waffle, the Princess and I hired e-bikes – another app of course – and whizzed around the city centre exploring tea, supermarket and tourist sights of interest. We discovered that Tartu was the 2024 European capital of culture. Fancy that. Daniel went out for a run and Michael stayed at home glad of a short break from his family.

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Can you believe that there is more to come? I know, neither can I.

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