The Great Escape from Winter

To see us off, in case we had any stray thoughts of staying home, Mother Nature provided a snowstorm. Not to be deterred, the airport was coping nicely and a parade of plows kept the runways open. We did have to make a stop at the de-icing station before taking off. If there was any freezing rain, it waited until after we had flown off into the clouds.

Our transatlantic journey began an hour later than scheduled, partly because of the de-icing and partly because the plane arrived into Ottawa a little late. Apart from some slight bumpy turbulence from time to time, it was a good flight, with decent meals and no crying infants. 

Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris is massive as one would expect. What we didn't expect was to have to walk so far and take a bizarre shuttle ride that eventually dropped us off one gate short of where we started. The passport check was a breeze, the two security screenings seemed rather unnecessary, but that bizarre shuttle trip gobbled up much of our 3-hour layover time. 

We, quite literally, were issued through a set of glass doors after a very short shuttle ride, did a large u-turn and were ushered out the same doors onto what seemed to be the very same shuttle bus. Not at all confusing. Then followed a very long very boring backstage tour of the ugly part of the airport.

Wandering through what we hoped was 2D by the time we disembarked from said shuttle, we found the area to check in for our next flight. The lineup crawled along slowly but we were rewarded with boarding passes. Then we had to find our gate. All-in-all we took almost 4000 steps in addition to our shuttle tour of the back parts of the airport, and as we arrived at our gate, they were already boarding. This all took three hours. There wasn't time to enjoy coffee and a croissant, or even grab them and run, which we were counting on being able to do.

The flight on KM Malta Airlines was about two and a half hours, during which we were able to purchase a snack for a princely sum. I was very hungry as breakfast had been more than five hours earlier so I coughed up the required cost.

There was no immigration or customs procedure at Malta International Airport, and our driver was waiting for us. The sun was shining and the views were lovely and the countryside much lusher than I'd seen in pictures. Winter rains, promising an encore on Friday, produced the greenery.

Taken from our taxi window en route to Qawra

Getting into the Fort Knox of our Airbnb was quite the exercise. A code to enter the front door worked like a charm. The code for the lockbox holding two sets of keys, worked like a charm. The keys however presented challenges. We had to use one for the elevator and that was fine once figured out. The key to our front door seemed to produce nice clicks indicating a successful opening, but the door wouldn't budge. Eventually, I tried it and added an extra little quarter turn after two full "turns of the screw" and we were in! Then I finally realized that to remove the key from the lock, it had to be turned to a horizontal position.

Our apartment is everything we hoped for and more. We've unpacked and attempted naps, although in my case no nap occurred. Now we're back from dinner at Trattoria Ricardo nearby. Tomorrow we'll spend much of the day getting acquainted with the local area, do some grocery shopping, get our bus passes and maybe even have time for a hop-on hop-off tour. Adventures await.

The view looking in one direction from our very windy terrace

But now, my pillow is calling and I must obey.

Hello Malta - we're on our way

My bags are packed, I'm ready to go, I'm sitting here inside my door ... just be grateful you can't hear me trying to sing that tune. 

Today's weather in Ottawa isn't sunny and clear but if the freezing rain can wait until we've flown off, then all is well. I'm sure the aircraft will make a stop at the de-icing station before heading for the wild grey and cloudy yonder en route to Paris and on to Luqa, Malta. Our breakfast might be coffee and croissants in Paris. Well, at the airport.

We've watched endless YouTube videos and devoured guidebooks and are now well-prepared for the real thing. I'm not sure I'm prepared for such hilly terrain as offered everywhere in Malta, but will give it my best efforts. As for hop-on hop-off bus tours, they shall be enjoyed without any actual hopping. We have to retain our dignity. 

Our accommodations in Qawra look fabulous on the laptop screen and my next post will let you know if all is as it seemed. 

Watch out Malta, the Ottawa senior genealogy squad is coming.

Well now, that was fun

After packing up and leaving Carnew with a couple of farewell stops along the way, fully confident, I eventually left Coolruss for Dublin airport. More specifically, my destination was the Maldron airport hotel. I'm there now so don't get anxious reading about how I got here. And pay no attention to those silly time estimates that Google provides.

During the drive, I experienced a lot of different weather. It went from pouring rain, to drizzle, to bright sun, to sun with drizzle, to more downpours, and so on. When I reached Naas (look it up) the tire pressure light came on. Picture this - I'm on the motorway, tooling along at 110 kph, spending much of the time changing the setting on the windshield wipers. It got so I hardly had to think about that. My hands were so used to moving the lever from off to intermittent to regular "pace" and back through the other options. But I had no idea how urgent that tire pressure light was. Should I pull over at the Kilcullen service centre? Have I passed it or have I even got that far yet? I was too busy worrying about suddenly getting a flat tire while navigating the centre lane of the highway. I decided it wasn't worth worrying about it so I reduced my worry level to slightly stressed. 

Traffic moved nicely until we were on the M50 getting close to the airport and the overhead warning sign reported a collision ahead, with traffic reduced to one lane. Although there were delays, we never had to merge to one lane, or even two. I suspect the collision had been cleared by the time I saw the sign, but it took a while for traffic patterns to realign. The car had a manual transmission. During the start-and-stop phase, it would have been nice to have an automatic. But alas ...

Getting to the hotel was easy enough by obeying Ms Google. I checked in quickly and was assigned a nice room on the ground floor, overlooking a grassy courtyard. In fact, just below my window, I can see the herb garden. The chef was not there picking the seasonings for tonight's dinner while I looked out. If the window were clean, I'd have an even nicer view. Hold on!!! Sun alert. Yay. It could last a minute or two and I don't want to miss it. There's even a large, well OK, medium-sized, patch of blue sky. 

Once I'd abandoned my suitcase in my room, I headed out to top up the rental car's gas tank. It had to be returned full. Insert a few circuits around the airport terminals in search of the gas station, that I could see about 100 metres from the front of the hotel. I was told it's a "one-way system" and you just have to drive around. Sure you do. If you know where to go it's probably not that hard. Google was not helpful so I was on my own. I'm very proud of the fact that I found it during my second, or was it third, circuit. If you need directions to long-term parking, I found it on one of my circuits and will happily share the info.

Once topped up, I only had to drive to the rental car return. Ha Ha Ha Ha - no signs. The hotel and gas station were past the entry to that destination. On the first of two unsuccessful circuits, I just went all the way around, as I'd done in search of the gas, and then, at a red light, I quickly asked Google to get me to the Hertz rental return area. Whew! it was ready and talking just as the driver behind me found out how to use his horn. And then I merely had to follow instructions. 

And this is where the ubiquitous roundabouts show their value. As long as you know which exit to take, you can position yourself in the correct lane on approach. It was essentially a one km drive to one very long U-turn. Eventually (after maybe 3 minutes) I finally recognized where I was and arrived successfully at the penultimate destination du jour. Before I had even removed the key, the car was being inspected. I mentioned the tire pressure light, but when carefully scanned, the attendant agreed that all the tires looked fine. A bit of stress was relieved at that point. If all four of those tires suddenly deflate tomorrow morning, I won't care. 

I jumped on the shuttle to the terminal which was to take me near the hotel shuttle. I had only my backpack to manage. The driver was a very friendly chap, obviously moved by this white-haired lady struggling with the pack, by now hanging off one shoulder, tangled in my purse strap. When I said I was looking for the shuttle to the Maldron Hotel he said he'd drop me at the hotel. Whew! What a lovely man. 

And now, here I am. I have wifi for the first time since leaving home. My phone had provided the (slow) Internet connection for my laptop during my stay in Carnew. I'm on the hotel network and connected to a VPN for a bit more security.

It will be time for dinner in just over an hour. It's been a while since breakfast and I inhaled the "welcome cookie" to hold me over. 

I'll clean up a bit, and after dinner, I'll exchange my local SIM card for the Canadian one in my phone. I wonder if there are any voicemails I missed in the past two weeks. Too bad if there are. 

The past two weeks went by in a flash. I've travelled to a few new spots and enjoyed some culture. Such is my taste in theatre that I enjoyed the farce most of all. Full credit has to be given to all the actors and the entire production teams of the various amateur theatre groups who competed. 

My flight to Toronto leaves at 8 am tomorrow - if it's on time. I should be home by mid-afternoon Ottawa time. And then the jet lag adjustment period will begin.

Thank you, faithful readers. It will be a while before the Wandering Genealogist takes to the road again.

Packing up because I'm soon leaving on a jet plane

Today was wet, and tomorrow could be wetter. It's time to pack up and prepare to fly home. This has been a shorter-than-usual visit, but it has been absolutely wonderful and worthwhile. It was culturally satisfying with the wonderful plays it was my pleasure to attend. And, of course, it was personally fulfilling catching up with all the folks who made this entire visit fun from start to finish. 

Much of my packing has been done, but there will be last-minute stuffing of random items into the suitcase before I put it into the trunk of my rental car and give myself to the directions from Ms Google to be led over hill and dale, and probably some narrow winding roads, en route to Dublin.

Having decided to stay indoors and dry, I spent some time reviewing videos on photo editing and then trying out some of the tools. Just what I need, another hobby that requires sitting. But it's very interesting what can be done to improve your photos. I will soon be seen getting up close and personal with plants, especially flowers, and assorted ordinary objects, trying to display them in new ways. 

The evening ended with dinner in Tinahely with Mary D. and Jim B. I've been enjoying Mary's house for the past two weeks and have made myself very much at home. All the same, it will be nice to sleep in my own bed again. And it's only a few weeks until golf season gets underway.

Thanks for following my latest adventure. I don't plan to post anything more, unless  tomorrow brings something startling or wonderful or weird or ... who am I kidding. There's almost certainly going to be one more post.

We had it all on Saturday

I don't know what you are expecting after that title. I am, of course, referring to the weather. Once the rain stopped I went out for a walk. Destination: Centra supermarket. Shopping list: milk, brown bread, and coffee. In particular, Frank and Honest brand coffee, or is it Frank and Earnest? Can you just imagine the excitement? I tossed a packet of Kleenex into the shopping basket just for fun. I was almost giddy.

I wrote most of this post yesterday but the blogging app was not cooperating. I could not choose the font or font size. I thought maybe I'd copy and paste it into Word and then paste it back here. The first cut and paste worked. Pasting it back turned it into a jpeg file in a little box. Ugh. But at least I'd saved the text.

Yesterday went from rain and wind to cloud and wind to sun and wind - changing every few minutes. The rain did stop in late morning but the wind decided to make a day of it. The thermometer read 7C but with the wind, it felt much colder.  As I went hatless, my hair developed a psychotic style of its own. I have no blow dryer and have to rely on my brush and some finger scrunching. I think I should have worn my hat after all. Hat head would not have been worse than what sprouted from my scalp.

In the afternoon, I met Mary G. at Sugar and Spice in Bunclody where we enjoyed our cappuccinos and chatted for quite a while. There really wasn't enough time to go exploring, so I returned to the house and read for a while, made and ate dinner, and then was off to the play.

"Alone It Stands" was the play reenacting the 1978 rugby match between Munster and the New Zealand All Blacks. Although I didn't meet her, a woman in the audience had been at that match and was carrying some pictures from that day. Oh yes, to everyone's surprise, Munster beat the All Blacks, despite their having done the usual Haka and being much bigger.

There were 5 male actors and 1 female. Together, they played 62 parts. They had to be the fittest bunch of actors on any stage, anywhere. A special mat on the floor was absolutely required because of the physicality of bodies slamming into the ground—often. One of the men played a dog, and what a happy, lovable dog he was. He was quite believable in the part.

Although Out of Order was my favourite play of the week and was indeed voted the audience's favourite play of the week, this was also an extraordinary performance. 

The play had started earlier and the evening ended later than usual because the awards had to be presented. Reviewing her choices, I have to agree with the adjudicator. I might have been too biased towards the farce to have been the one choosing. Performance results determine whether or not you get to compete in the All-Ireland finals in May. I'm sure these groups will be well represented at Mount Mellick. 

Today it's gray but not so windy. At the moment, it's not raining but the forecast claims it is doing so right now. I guess I'd better wear a raincoat today. I'm meeting Kevin and Eleanor for lunch and then have a couple of items to return to Dunne's in Gorey. That's the activity forecast. 

No pictures were taken and so none should be included today. Oh, all right. Here are a couple from the past week that I hadn't posted.

Reflections at Altamont Gardens

Arklow, 19 arch bridge from the modern side

Duckett's Grove entrance to courtyard

Stage for The Lonesome West

Arklow - Gorey and then there's my story

Yesterday was a cool but dry day. Ms Google took me on a very scenic route to Arklow to meet with friends for brunch. I am sure I could have found my way to Arklow without the directions, but getting to Coffee 4 U was a different matter. Even when I saw it from the bridge, I had no exact idea of how to get there. 

Eschewing the direct route from here to there, I once again detoured a number of times and thought I might be driving in a circle while blindly obeying Ms Google. Then again, I wasn't passing the same landmarks, so I just had to trust Ms Google. The trust was not misplaced as I got to revisit spots I'd been on one of my previous trips. I didn't stop to take photos because I had no idea how long the drive would take. Turns out I arrived just in time. The promised "34 minutes" was closer to 64. 

Arklow is a good-sized town with not-so-good-sized streets. It does boast a 19-Arch bridge, which from one side looks very historic and from the other, there are signs of more recent refurbishment. But getting around town was a challenge even with computer assistance. The lanes where I was directed to turn, were not obvious until I'd just driven past, and I never saw a street sign. But I only had to make one trip over and another back over, those 19 arches. I spied the destination from the bridge on the return trip and eventually found a parking lot where I abandoned the car, but didn't abandon hope. The coffee shop faced the river, so when I got out of the car, I walked down to the river and turned right. Eventually, I got to the right place.

We had a lovely lunch and a catch-up. This time it hadn't been as long since my previous visit. On my return trip, I opted for the motorway and a detour via Gorey. The reason for the detour was to get my hearing aid filters changed. I had forgotten to bring along my own kit and knew that I had a limited time to get them cleaned before I'd be stone-deaf again. I didn't think that deafness would come so soon. Specsavers in the Gorey Shopping Centre, sells and services hearing aids. Good place to go. Well, not so much as it turned out. They don't carry my brand.

The helpful chap took my hearing aids into the secret back room and returned a while later, saying they were good to go. I tried to put them on and found that he'd forced into place, parts from a different brand, and he'd twisted the plastic bits that keep them in place. The result was an unsuccessful attempt to put them in my ears. And I also realized that now, they weren't working at all. 

The helpful chap had neglected to say that they don't sell or have parts for the brand of hearing aid I use. He'd forced the wrong filters into place. I'm pretty much lost without those devices and I had a play to attend last night. The by then, not-so-helpful chap then said that he'd done all he could and I should really try somewhere else. Lovely!

What was I going to do? The "helpful chap" told me of another hearing centre nearby to try, so I did. It was on the second floor, in a building without an elevator. The second floor here, would be the third floor in Canada. To get to the second floor I had to climb four sets of stairs. High ceilings mean LOTS of stairs. My left hip doesn't cope well with stairs. Sigh! In retrospect, that helpful chap really wasn't helpful at all. I should have left well-enough alone and hoped they didn't get too clogged with wax.

The lady at location number two was able to sort out the left hearing aid to the point where it was functioning once she pried out the wrong filter, which had been jammed in. I was halfway there. Actually, with only one hearing aid, I could manage, barely. The helpful lady told me that in Enniscorthy, there was a place that sold the brand of hearing aids that I use. With my fingers crossed, I drove back to where I was staying in Carnew. It is not next door to Enniscorthy.

A bit of googling brought me to the correct website, which included a phone number. I called and was told that I could drop in anytime and they would get things sorted out and repaired. But there wasn't enough time to get from here to there before they closed. Tomorrow's plan had just been finalized. Enniscorthy it would be.

Fortunately, my designated seat in the theatre was in the second row; the actors spoke loudly and very clearly, and I enjoyed every minute of the farce "Out of Order." I only missed a few lines, and since it was a farce, I didn't miss much because of the action and the actors' expressions. It was so funny I laughed until tears ran down my face. The entire audience was enthralled by the performance. As was the adjudicator.

This morning I set out for Enniscorthy, via Bunclody. Getting to the town was easy. Getting around was NOT. I missed a turn and ended up forced to take the bridge across the river to the really, really, really hilly part of town. Eventually, I followed directions until I was so confused by the traffic and narrow streets, that I headed for the only place I knew - the parking garage for Dunne's store. 

Google supplied pedestrian directions from there via several optional routes. I just didn't know where I currently was on any of those routes. A friendly and helpful young man in the Vodaphone store took pity on me when I asked for assistance. He walked me right to the shop. To be fair, it was rather complicated but I did get there with his help. Without it I'd still be wandering up and down the hills of Enniscorthy.

It's possible there is now a wanted poster with my image on it. Leaving the parking garage, I took the lift/elevator up to ground level. I saw a set of doors leading onto the street, so out I went. As it happens, that was an emergency exit and yes, when you exit that way, a very loud alarm sounds. I just sauntered casually up the hill in my search for the destination du jour and could hear that alarm for a while. Probably they have CCTV and I had on a bright jacket. Possibly the lost and stupefied look on my face caused them to take pity on a white-haired lady. No security guards caught me. I don't know if they tried but I'm grateful that I was not arrested.

Doyle Hearing was indeed the answer to my prayers, once I got there. The young woman at the desk took a while to remove the filter which had been forced into place and was able to replace both left and right ears' devices with the right filters. To my great relief, I could hear again, in stereo. A mere €20 was enough to cover her work and a new set of filters and domes. Should I need to repeat the cleaning, I can now do it myself.

I'm very proud to say that I didn't need to consult Google for the route home. After lunch, I drove over to say hello to the folks in Minmore and then set off to see The Copse (where my ancestors emigrated from) and Bob's tree (planted in memory of my Dad, some of his ashes are buried below that lovely Canadian Maple.) It is nicely surrounded by lovely daffodils. 

The Copse - where our Byrne ancestors had their cabin

The exact place where my life changed in 2008
We were directed to Jim Byrne and he turned out to be related

The rest is history

Bob's tree and its lovely daffodils

That tree is on Jim's farm, so I put on my wellies and visited the trees, then had a peek at the new lambs. I took a couple of pictures. 

Mama and the triplets - one day old

Then I adjourned to the kitchen with Mary and Jim for a cup of (green) tea and a biscuit. I'd brought my wellies and left them there for anyone to use and possibly be available on a future visit. 

As I type, it's pouring rain. The blue skies have been replaced by grey clouds, so now it's sunny, and then suddenly it's not. You don't even have to wait five minutes for this weather to change. 

Tonight's play is "Hooked," by Gillian Grattan. It has had good reviews in other places so I'm expecting to be well entertained. 

Slan

Just another dry day in Co Wicklow

Have I told you about parking in Carnew? It's unlike most other small towns in that the residents and I suppose, the visitors as well, have mastered the art of creative parking. The main street poses a particular challenge where it narrows. More of that in a minute.

The street where I'm staying is a two-way street. There is room for two cars to pass if there are no cars parked. Often, cars are parked with two wheels on the sidewalk, leaving a little more room on the driving surface, as my rental car is now. Two small cars could still pass, slowly, by mine. Usually, there are gaps between the cars parked, mostly, along the side where I am. Those gaps provide excellent shelter for vehicles when an approaching car is using the oncoming lane. Most of the time, it works like a charm. Without even thinking about it, a little slalom move here and there keeps everyone safe.

However, there are no restrictions. You may park on either side. Yesterday morning as I looked out the living room window, with my own vehicle in plain view, a car parked directly opposite. There were no cars in front of or behind that new interloper. The driver could have pulled up or reversed one car length or more so that the slalom pattern would not be disturbed. Oh no, she had to park right there.

Fortunately, no really large trucks or vans decided to come this way. My grey Hyundai remained remarkably unscathed.

And now we come to the main street. There is parking on both sides, and there is enough room for two vehicles to safely pass as they go in opposing directions. Toss in a bit of convenient double parking at least once a day, preferably close to one of the ramps (speed bumps/traffic calming humps). It's probably to challenge the patience of drivers waiting to proceed safely around those who are just running into the shop for a moment or chatting through open car windows to the neighbour who is legally parked. 

And then there's the spot where the road narrows, and turns, and parking is still permitted on both sides. This area has no designated parking spots. Carnew is a truck route. When cars are parked on both sides at that spot, it's a case of who is the more aggressive driver coming from one direction or the other. There's only room for one vehicle, and even large trucks have to pass through the eye of the needle.  Ridiculous. I'd drive out of town and walk rather than park my car on either side there. I'm just too timid I suppose.

Yesterday afternoon a little anecdote revealed the meaning of "no parking" indicators. A visitor asked what a yellow line on the curb meant. The answer, "no parking." What does a double yellow line mean, then? And the reply. "really, really do NOT park there."  Carnew's corner needs triple yellow lines and a bylaw enforcer with his ticket-writing pen ready to go. 

My daytime sortie was to visit Susan Byrne for lunch. They have a long narrow driveway up the side of a hill from the road. To warn visitors to be careful, Damian has put up signs like "no passing" and "bike lane closed." They have an enchanting property with a fabulous view. Over the years, the garden has expanded and even includes an area of Standing Stones. I did not tempt fate and walk into the centre. If you are an Outlander fan, you'll know why. 

The Standing Stones with a Dolman in the centre

I took a few photos of various vignettes they've created. And one sign that tells you where in the world you are relative to many other places.

Just a lovely little daffodil

Old implements from the Dempseys who originally lived there

How far from here to there?

The rest of the afternoon was spent reading. The evening was spent watching "The Lonesome West" by Mark McDonagh. It's apparently part of a trilogy. It's set in Connemara and almost all of the action takes place inside the home of two bachelor brothers. One had "accidentally" shot their miserable father and the other's testimony kept him out of jail. The "good" brother became the sole heir by agreement, and he was tight with his money, spending most on "figurines" of religious figures. His name was Valene and he marked everything he bought with a large V. This included the furniture and his collection. The arguments were both funny and petty. When Valene was out, his brother Coleman collected a potful of the fibreglass figurines and baked them in the much-loved stove that Valene had paid 300 pounds for. All in all a great production. 

I'm off in a few minutes to join a couple of friends for brunch in Arklow. I hope that Ms Google is in good humour today. I will take the route via Gorey and use the motorway. We are going to Coffee 4 U, and apparently, their food is very tasty, with pancakes a specialty. I have not yet eaten, saving myself for a guilt-free meal. I hope their Lattes are good too. Or maybe I'll have a Cappucino or just a Flat White. The only thing I'm sure of is I won't order tea.