Today is very mild with a bit of drizzle every now and then. I've done a couple of loads of laundry and am preparing for the arrival of Tom Byrne so I can see how rusty or capable I am when driving a manual. I hate the little car I've got and want to trade it for a diesel and probably "a stick". I'll take a picture of the odd little gear shift. There is no Park, Drive is a bump to the left and Reverse is to the right and down. It has no pep and drinks petrol like there's a hole in the tank.
Meanwhile, back at the blog ...
Our Hallowe'en experience was fun and ,as we were not giving out candy (no trick or treaters down this lane anyway), there are no leftover treats hanging around calling my name. There was little to do on Thursday morning before setting out for Wexford and Rosslare.
Of course there was a detour involved and it was planned. And we got there directly. Yay. Curracloe Beach was our first stop as it was the site for a few movies. The Irish beach scenes from the movie Brooklyn were filmed there and so was Saving Private Ryan. In that one it was used to recreate the invasion of Normandy. The beach we enjoyed, while wrapped up well, was almost deserted and very peaceful.
The sun was shining and there were few clouds - just the weather we'd come to expect. But it was pretty chilly. That didn't stop us from walking on the beach, collecting a few shells and increasing our step count for the day. Walking on sand should count as double steps. How do I set that on my step counter? Fair is fair. Stairs should count triple but I can't find that setting either. Come to think of it perhaps typing could be half a step per line.
From there we were driving to Rosslare to meet Margaret for lunch at Kelly's Cafe. It seems only reasonable, that despite her good directions, we should head to Kelly's Hotel. Nope! Well, we did get to the hotel but it was the wrong place. Finally got the GPS directions sorted out and arrived at the cafe. Lunch was lovely and we gained not only good company but a tour guide.
After lunch Margaret drove us to Kilmore Quay. I never tire of that place - that's where I turn into my mother! Last year I had a photo taken in front of one of the thatched cottages and when I saw it, it was my mother looking back at me from behind the dark glasses. Yikes. This year I made sure to be always on the other side of the camera.
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| Tapestry of Kilmore Quay - every sort of medium used; mostly textiles but some found objects |
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| Peaceful scene on the Quay |
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| Dinner, but sadly not ours |
We were severely underdressed. Looking at the tickets it was suggested that Black Tie and formal dress was suitable. Well, we both forgot our black ties and I'm not certain I own a dress that would have fit into the category of ball gowns and designer specials that we saw. Needless to say, I remained in my seat at the intermission lest even more people gawk at my black slacks and waterproof jacket. The sparkles on the gowns and from the patent leather shoes were quite in evidence.
About the performance - none of us noticed in the description of the production, the word 'libretto'. Oops. It was the right play but it had been turned into an opera.
The sets were marvellous, the costumes perfect, the production was elegant and beautifully staged and the set changes were seamless. But the screeching of the "singing" nearly drove us mad. They did have the sur-titles for us to read so I amused myself by doing just that. The actors simply sang the dialogue using a melody (I use the term loosely) that was awful. A review the next day said just what we found, so we felt vindicated in our views. However, the tickets were expensive and we felt somewhat ripped off. And underdressed - did I mention that before?
Friday started out sunny and we (eventually) found Johnstown Castle. There was a free tour that we decided to join after strolling a bit and taking pictures. Oh that we had declined!!! Certainly the guide knew the castle and the stories, but the main message was more along the lines of "we need bags more money than allotted to fix this up". There were few actual anecdotes about the builders, the owners and what had transpired there over the years. The tour lasted about 90 minutes - 10 of which were interesting. The final hour was spent standing inside the museum listening to a recounting of facts - names, marriages - who cares! There were details of how they want to fix it up and we were repeatedly shown the construction of new buildings. Blech! Eventually it was over.
We enjoyed a nice lunch in the cafe - after moving to a table near the fire where we weren't in danger of frostbite. There's nothing like a damp cold to get right into your bones.
Duly fortified we did enjoy the famine museum and bypassed the agricultural displays. When we came out the skies were overcast but it was dry.
That evening we had tickets for Holy Mary - the tale of two seven year old rivals, Mary and Majella. Parking the night before had been tricky so we wandered around Wexford for a few hours, stopping for supper after finding a good parking spot.
Fortunately the play was in the small theatre in the Opera House and it became apparent that ball gowns were not required. This time we fit right in with our casual attire. We were however rather early, having failed to notice the starting time was 8:30 and not 8.
The play was fabulous once my ears were attuned to the accent. The two girls, and a few other parts, were played by two actresses - not children. They did a great job of sounding like little girls, and the other characters they played. The tickets had been cheap and we loved the entire performance.
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| in case you want to keep your chickens in the house |
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| Don't think I'd want to scale this fence |
Saturday was very wet, cold and windy. We headed north to Kilruddery House Saturday market. It was a great location but the market was disappointing. I suspect some vendors gave it a miss because of the weather.
However, we met my friend Lynne and followed her to the Avoca comples at Kilmacanoge. She referred to it as the Avoca Mothership. Indeed. There are Avoca woolen mills - at Avoca - and a nice store and cafe there. This was many times larger. The food was terrific and we managed to keep our wallets closed.
En route to Dublin to return the car and get Paddy settled in her airport hotel, a stop was required to buy petrol as the car had to be returned full. It's expensive at the airport. So, taking an exit somewhere and following the GPS to find the fuel, we ended up with a tour that brought us through much of Dublin near the shore, by the port, on a toll road and through a very long tunnel - with an additional toll. Yes, it took us to the airport.
All got sorted out, we said our goodbyes after a great time together, and as Paddy drove over to return her Micra, I entered Hertz with great hope for a good vehicle.
Hopes were dashed but I decided on an automatic. Bad move. I got a nice looking Opal Astra that has as much energy as I do after two hours sleep. You can watch the needle on the gas gauge descend rapidly.
So, shortly I'll try a little drive with Tom to see how I manage with his manual shift. If all goes well, I'll contact Hertz in Wexford to see if I can exchange this piece of tin for diesel vehicle that is much easier on fuel.
Now, having done a couple of loads of laundry and started a bit on the research, I'm ready for part 3 of this trip. If you are not bored silly by now, please tune in again. But be warned - future instalments are likely to have less travel and more research and will be genealogy based. I won't be offended if you tune out. After all I won't even know.
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