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Published: August 31st 2009
The Bus Of Death
ZOB Terminal, Hamburg, GermanyHello readers! Lovely day for it! Let me bring you up to speed.
We had arrived back in Bielany at 6am after our flight home from Sardo, immediately went to bed for six hours to counter a stupid lack of sleep, and then got our washing started and relaxed. We stayed at Jacek’s place for the remainder of our time as our room in Misia’s house had gone to it’s rightful occupant after us staying there forever, and we said our goodbyes to the Renes side of the family as we wouldn’t be seeing them again before we left. We spent the week finally organising our bus and plane tickets to get to Ireland, re-packing, sorting out photos, tripping around to see relatives that HAD to see us for the five hundredth time before we left, and generally getting sorted.
Another problem had arisen though that would take much of my time and effort. Somewhere in the weeks before we decided to leave (or HAD to leave, seeing as my Schengen visa had run out) Aleks was determined that ticket prices actually go down closer to your date of departure. Thus, the fifty billion hours I spent searching for
Aleks & Bed-At-5am Jazzyfizzle
ZOB Terminal, Hamburg, Germany a cheap fare on skyscanner (around $AU140 for both of us at first look) turned out to be a waste of time. “Wait!” she said, “they’ll get better. We can get some last minute flight prices!” The week before we were scheduled to leave, the flight prices for the same tickets had now gone up to approximately $250. Each.
I looked at the figures on the SkyScanner website and my heart sank. I knew what this was going to mean. Buses. Trains. The devastatingly slow, uncomfortable and generally shite modes of transport that attracted every drug-peddling, plane-avoiding, coughing, dying, ancient, redneck person and screaming kid from backwater Ukraine to big stupid Mother Russia.
Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.
Somehow I worked out a way to get to Eire that would cost us $170 each, but that included getting to Hamburg first on a bus, a paltry 11 hour journey that would depart Warszawa Zachodnia at 11 at night and reach Hamburg at 10 the next morning. Knowing how well we sleep on public transport, it was going to be interesting.
And so we ended up at Ciocia Asia’s with Wujek Jacek and the whole family all pulling us
I'm Taller, She's Prettier
ZOB Terminal, Hamburg, Germany different ways to spend the most time with us. It got a little silly in the end, but even if we pointed it out I don’t think they realised. We all went to the bus station (10 of us) and looked for a timetable. There wasn’t one, but we didn’t lose faith. The bus was late, and there were millions that looked exactly like it, but we didn’t lose faith. The bus arrived, and we bailed.
The bus was filled with big beer-drinking Russians, who were still into it at 3am, throwing cans in the aisle for the stewardess to pick up. We had a back seat right above the engine, which was pretty warm, but somehow we moved around enough to be able to get a little neck-breaking sleep in. There was only one stop before the border and then into Germany. I noticed as soon as we crossed the border that there was a sign to the left that said “Ausfahrt”. I thought that was pretty funny, calling a place “Ausfahrt” and had a little laugh to myself. Then I saw another one, and laughed again. Then I saw another, and another and another. What the hell
Bus To Airport, German Style
ZOB Terminal, Hamburg, Germany was going on? This place must be pretty popular if every sign in 15 km goes to it.
Ausfahrt means Exit in German.
So we arrived in Hamburg to meet Jasmin, who had only been to sleep at around 5am after a really big night out, but she was in fine form and we had a coffee to calm our shattered nerves. After talking shite for a while we found our 11:55 bus to Hamburg Lubeck Airport, paid our €9, said goodbye to the sexy midget and we were off.
We were a little terrified to fly RyanAir, what with all the bad press they have been getting about being the sheistiest airline on the face of the planet. Horror stories regarding luggage rejections and extra charges were all over the net, and we had spent hours packing and chucking stuff out and repacking. Luckily we were under weight in both cases (15 bloody kilos for checked, 10kg in an ice-cream tub sized back for carry-on) and made it through without a hitch. The people were actually nice and after surviving interrogation by a lovely customs man regarding my visas and things, we stood in a queue for
Boat!
Hamburg Lubeck Airport, Germany half an hour and made it onto the plane.
We flew, we didn’t crash, and we arrived in Dublin to find Veronica and Jo with Emilyann waiting there for us. They whisked us away to Greystones, 40km South of Dublin, to a pub owned by Jo’s husband Billy, called The Beach House. It is a beautiful pub, and it was here that I was treated to my first Irish Guinness. Oh god it was a cracker. The rumours are all true. Aleks had a cider inside her insides after not too long, and we talked and laughed until we jumped in the car to move out to Newcastle, where Jo lives.
It is here that we have been residing for the last week, a beautiful big house called “The Willows” on an acre of green land covered in fruit trees and gardens and beautiful hedges and lawns. It’s postcard perfect. Billy and I are getting along like a house on fire, as I believe he could possibly be the funniest man I have ever met. I know the old man would like him; he’s as dry as an outback riverbed and full of wisdom to boot. I am
In Ze Plane, Praying
Hamburg Lubeck Airport, Germany also so excited to finally meet Jo, she’s just as warm and lovely as Aleks has always told me. And so staying with them has been an absolute pleasure so far: we have become Uncle Nemo and Aunty Aleks to Emilyann, a beautiful little girl of 13 months who is, like Dylan, 95% gorgeous and 5% terrorist.
Ever since I was 15 I have wanted to go to Ireland, and after spending my first week here, I remember why that is. It’s for a couple of reasons. The first reason is that being from Gunnedah it is hard for me to envision a place that is so green it makes your eyeballs hurt. But seriously, the postcards aren’t kidding. It really is just like that. The second reason is that I like beer, and I like going to the pub. Ireland is very good for accommodating both of these things. Lastly, I truly believe that Irish humour is the best in the world, kind of what Australian humour wants to be when it grows up. The first night I was here I laughed so hard I nearly peed my pants, and that’s the first time in a long
In The Air
Somewhere? Ireland Maybe? time. And trust me, the humour hasn’t let up yet. So for me, thus far, it’s heaven. And Aleks thinks it’s a bit of alright too!
We spent the first couple of days being taken on tours by Jo and Emilyann. The first day we went for a walk out through the fields from Ralph and Caroline’s (Jo’s parents) house to the seaside. It was a little wet and muddy underfoot, but the scenery… It made me stop and catch my breath a couple of times. There were ruins that look hundreds of years old covered in vines and with the roofs falling in, forests of pine trees that are so dark you feel like someone turned off the lights, and a railway running beside the sea that shoots off into the distance, lost in the salt spray. JUST BEAUTIFUL. We also took another walk up the coast to Bray along the cliffs, and I forgot to take my camera to both of these. I promise I will do it again just so I can show you the sights!
We also managed to get out to Glendalough, a valley between two lakes that is actually part of an
AAAAreland!
Over Dublin, Ireland old glacier, and is absolutely astounding. I’m not used to geography like this! We saw the place where St. Kevin of Wicklow used to live, including his and St. Kieran’s churches, and a 30m high tower in a graveyard that was so old but still standing. I really can’t describe it to you, you’re just going to have to look at the photos! There is a photo there of a gravestone from 1750… The person was 106 years old when they died! Crikey! We also went to Powerscourt, a very old estate near Enniskerry that has been opened to the public. It used to be owned privately but the main house burned down and has now been renovated with a restaurant, beautiful gardens and a golf course. We ate at the restaurant and I had lasagne, it was just phenomenal!
Apart from this we have been just relaxing and watching the rain run down the windows, reading our books and playing with Emilyann to give Mum a reprieve from time to time. Oh, I nearly forgot, we also went to a brilliant dinner party held by Jo’s friend Lynn on Friday night. A couple of bottles of wine in,
The Girls, The Pub, The Bub
The Beach House, Co. Wicklow, Ireland I was called upon to entertain with some guitar and singing, but the wine had made my voice a little average so after 3 songs, I quit. Waking up to Emilyann was a bit of a mission the next day as her toots and hoots and squeals made every drop of wine vibrate in our heads! By evening time we were ready to keep partying though and we went to The Beach House with the lovely Miss Veronica and all the gang from the night before. Jo joined us later and we spent the night dancing away to a band called Dog Ruff. And Dog Ruff was what we felt the next morning, Miss V a little more than others. Not to worry…
I have been blogging and organising photos for about three days as well, as I have never been so behind before. Damn lack of technology and fast internet, it really gets difficult. Funny how reliant we have become on this sort of thing… Back in the day you all would have been waiting for letters and… gasp! Photos printed on PAPER! :D
That’s about all from me now, today we are going off in a
Nemo's First Guinness
The Beach House, Co. Wicklow, Ireland little Peugeot 307 that Mr and Mrs Tindal have so kindly lent to us for a month, and the aim for the day is somewhere down near the South Coast. We’ll see how we go and should have some cracking photos and stories for you when we get back!
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