London to Dalkey, Ireland

By the end of our time in London, I felt like we could have been in Paris, which I hadn’t expected. Dale and I stopped short of gross public displays of affection, as usual. But the people around us didn’t seem to have a problem. I will say that just as the plane was about to leave Canada and I was watching nervously out the window, Dale turned my chin towards him and gave me a tiny kiss. There were plenty of times in London when I was short with him, mostly due to tired feet, tiredness in general, anxiety from running late, or hunger and being unable to find food because Dale was picky for some reason. But mostly I will remember fondly how he carried my purse without a word of complaint for half our stay. It’s probably a good thing the purse looks satchel-like.

Trafalgar Square

The train trip to our hostel wasn’t as bad as we expected it to be, though it was long, and our hostel was almost right around the corner from the station. I dropped my bags a few times because it was awkward to carry it all. Our first 20 pounds was spent on the security deposit, our next 4.50 each on keeping our luggage in a security room, and 3 pounds each went to the lockers under our beds for the rest of our belongings. Each night I got out the clothes I would wear the next day and slept with them on my bed, quietly doing my makeup there as well. I was able to avoid any line-ups for the bathroom this way, and avoided rummaging noises by planning ahead. Dale didn’t pack his London gear in his carry-on, so he ended up wearing the same shirt for four days. The first two nights we spent on the third story bunks, which were the very top and felt more private behind the curtains than the lower ones. It was hot in that room, but there wasn’t much noise. We had to change rooms on Friday because our first room had booked up before we got to it back home, and we ended up hauling our bags with us to a restaurant and brushing out teeth together in the bathroom while we waited for check-in at 11. I only bothered to shower on one evening, and it was an ordeal. I headed into the basement and it took opening door after door before I found them. The girls’ shower room was mostly deserted, and this felt more creepy to me than it felt private. I had to keep pressing a button to get the water going, like those awful taps you get in some bathrooms. Then when I left, I got lost. I ended up upstairs by a common room full of people in my pajamas and with wet hair, so I turned around and booked it the other way. I saw that same common room a couple more times. By the time I found my way back, Dale said he was going to give me five more minutes before he came looking for me.

But that first day when we arrived we were exhausted by 10pm. All we did was wander around the Russel Square area, sitting in the park, eating fish ‘n’ chips—typical, I know—and just scoping the place out. Dale commented on our surroundings, “Isn’t it so weird that this is normal to them?” The next day we grabbed lunch at a Tesco grocery store and ended up eating it because we couldn’t find breakfast. We went into the British Museum and had to kill an hour for the good exhibits, such as Egypt and Greece, to open. I suppose we didn’t need to be there for opening on a Thursday anyways. Dale killed the camera battery in there because by the time we had grabbed Subway sandwiches and taken the tube to Buckingham Palace, that was the end of it. The palace is actually pretty boring if you aren’t going to buy your way in, but it was still packed out front. We shelled out money for a disposable camera because this was our big sightseeing day. We purchased the expensive Big Bus Tour for £30 each, and enjoyed sitting down while a recording told us about London.  School boys in uniform liked to wave at the bus, and as the only one waving back, I received an accented, “Ah yes! Your are cool!” from one of them. We chose to hop off at the Tower of London and spent £18 pounds with the student rate to get in and check out the prisons, battlements, mock bedroom, and more. People were amused to see our disposable camera. They just aren’t around anymore. Just as we were deciding that London doesn’t gouge you like Vancouver does, I has to pay 50 pence to use a toilet. What?

Trafalgar Square

The bus tour gave us a free River Thames cruise, so we took that gratefully, arriving at Westminster for pictures of Big Ben. We missed the Ghosts and Gaslights tour that came with the bus tour because we couldn’t find the meeting point, and I was disappointed. We ended up at Pizza Hut for dinner, and sat at the fountain in Trafalgar Square for a while. Then we hung out on the far side of the Thames so we could see Big Ben light up in the evening.

On the top tier of the monument in Trafalgar Square

The following morning was the one that required the room change. We took our bags to a café and got to use the internet while we killed time and charged the camera. Then we checked back in and tubed it to Leicster Square for our Harry Potter tour! We ended up running across the square and through the crowds to make this one on time, and luckily managed it. We got to see more of London on the three hour tour than tourists might typically see, including the business district, which was hilarious in the evening. All the people in suits flooded out onto the cobbles and shade of a covered market and stood around drinking pints to celebrate that it was Friday. It was a massive amount of well-dressed and happy people. The tour itself was alright. We saw the inspiration for Diagon Alley, the place where Harry, Ron, and Hermione abduct a Ministry worker to make Polyjuice potion, and the grand finale, Platform 9 and ¾. I couldn’t resist buying the photo of myself there for £8.

Dale and I wandered after the tour ended, hopping on and off the tube and finding markets off the usual path while looking for food again. The funny thing is that we ended up desperate and ate a very cheap meal at MacDonald’s. We then tubed back to Westminster and strolled along the outside of Westminster Abbey. The National Galary was open late on Friday, which was a nice surprise. We got to enjoy some Picasso, Da Vinci, and Monet. I saw “Bathers” and thought of my friend, Julie, who loves that painting and would probably love to have been there. Then Dale and I climbed up the Trafalgar Square monument and sat at the highest tier eating McFlurries. They still have Smartie McFlurries in London! The view was great, and it was something I had never done before. It was relaxing to sit and people watch without a time frame. Although it was the most beautiful of several great days, the evening was more chilly and I had to borrow Dale’s sweater as we returned to our hostel. We stared at the bottom of my bunk that night, listening to his iPod and appreciating where we were. However, our new room was awful. We were surrounded by a group of Asian girls who, despite whispering, made all kinds of incredibly loud crinkling noises and other general inconsiderateness late at night and again for an hour at 5 in the morning. I rolled over noisily to show them that they had woken me up and ended up accidentally throwing a flying purse of rage down at them from my top bunk. They went silent for a second at the crashing sound, which was satisfying, but then I had to climb down into the middle of them to retrieve it, and that was embarrassing. Luckily, I was able to nap on the train to Holyhead, Wales, the next day, and Dale slept almost the whole time. The classic rolling hills flew by under another bright blue sky, some of them entirely yellow with flowers. Listening to Mumford and Sons as I watched was exhilarating.

London to Holyhead train

The ferry terminal was right beside the train’s last stop, but the ferry ride itself went on forever. At the end of it, we collected our bags and looked around for Niall, who was going to pick us up. I made eye contact with a dark-haired guy in shorts and he pointed at me, tilting his head and grinning as if to say, “You?” And that was that. He drove us to Dalkey, a half hour’s drive from Dublin, giving us tips and pointing out places along the way. In Dalkey I recognized the red door behind which we would be staying. Rosaleen came out to meet us, followed by her husband Vincent. Fionnuala (Fin-oo-la) arrived in time for dinner, and we did some catching up over a home-cooked meal. Vincent gave Dale and I directions to Finnegan’s pub, where I made an ass of myself. I asked for “two Guinnesses” rather than “two Guinness.” Then, the rule for Guinness is that the bartender pours it, then lets it sit for a minute, then pours more into the glass. I knew this, and I waited, and it took so long that I thought he must not be doing that. I swear he was waiting so that when I grabbed the glass he could say “They’re not ready yet!” Which I did, and which he did. Damn it!

Dale overlooking Dalkey Island

We must have had a lot to drink because we slept until 1 in the afternoon. I was very confused about the time when I woke up, but the sun was shining in from our floor to ceiling ocean-view windows. We finally got out of bed and went for a walk just the two of us to a park along a cliff that overlooked the ocean. It was called Dillon's Park. We took some footpaths through purple-flowered bushes swarming with bees to rocky cliffs covered in soft grass. Then we went up a different hill, Sorento Park, for an amazing view. The day was warm again, but not hot like Canada. There was an ocean breeze so gentle it was like drinking a glass of cold water. After taking our time overlooking Dalkey Island and planning to get across to it one of these days, we walked to Dun Laoghaire, buying 99ers at a tiny market—whipped icecream cones with a stick of flaky chocolate jabbed into it—and strolled down to the ocean. People were sitting along a stony pier rather than on sand or grass, and we watched a girl cliff jump in a wetsuit while a seal watched too. We returned in time for dinner, then spent the rest of the evening online trying to decide how to progress from there.

Me overlooking Dalkey Island. Who says it always rains in Ireland?

Today we went for coffee with Rosaleen at a tiny shop in the market where we got our 99ers yesterday. It was inside an old tram station that was shut down and was light and full of flowers. It was too bad we had to sit inside, but the atmosphere was once again very relaxed. We then left Rosaleen to take the Dart, or train, to Dun Laoghaire. We very easily picked up a phone plane from 02, which was amazingly cheap compared to Canada. For 20 euros we get unlimited calling in Ireland, 250 texts, and 200mb of data each month. It should be more than enough for now. After that, he and I walked to the pier, which was a mile long, and he got to touch the Irish Sea for the first time. It was a very long walk back to Dalkey since we only bought a one way ticket, and I am burnt as a result. Everyone keeps saying that it's a heat wave and that it should stick around for a month. The days are also very long here, the sun not going down until 10:30 or 11:00 at night. When we finally got back home, we sat in the grass in the backyard while Fionnuala did some gardening and Roisin (Row-sheen)'s little son Senan (Sen-nan) toddled around with the dog. Now we are heading out for a gentle hike.