Advertisement
Published: September 11th 2007
Day 117: July 31 - SWITZERLAND - Geneva, ENGLAND - London
Accommodation: St Pancras YHA, Kings Cross, London
Well this was it, I was leaving Europe and going back to London. It was just one sign that my huge trip was almost over. My next destination was Dublin, but I figured out it was actually cheaper to fly to London then get a train to the edge of Wales and catch a ferry across to Ireland. Bizarre as it seemed, I was happy to take anything cheaper, and I was able to see more scenery this way, as well as get to stop off at some of Wales, which I hadn't originally planned to do. What I was most excited about today was meeting my old uni friend Nic, who had come over to London for a working holiday recently. It wasn't just the fact that I hadn't been part of an organised tour where I could socialise with people for more than a period of a day or two, it's that I was going to meet up with someone I knew very well and could instantly have a good time with without having to swap introductions and things. Unfortunately I was only passing through for a day and didn't intend to come to London at all, but I was still excited about doing it.
I didn't have to be at Geneva airport until about midday (this was the closest international airport I could reach) but it would take me up to 4 hours on trains to get there from where I was. I had to be ready before 8am and the train to take me up the hill wasn't even running that early, so I would've had to walk for at least 20 minutes uphill with my bags. It was way too early in the morning for that so I took a taxi.
On my first train trip I started to feel a bit queasy in the stomach. I didn't know why but I figured it would pass. As the train start to rock side to side along the tracks I started feeling worse and I eventually felt so bad wanted to get off. It was only a half hour train to Interlaken, so when I changed trains there I was still feeling pretty nauseated, and I had to dump my bags and finding some bushes just outside the station where I threw up. This was most unusual for me as I rarely throw up as it is, even when I'm drunk, but I hadn't thrown up in the daytime since around 1992 when I had to take time off school for sickness. I couldn't figure out what it was since the day before I'd only had 3 or 4 beers and a cooked pork sausage with potato. The only thing I could think was that the pork was a bit undercooked or spoiled, but it didn't taste that way and it appeared to be cooked when I ate it. To this day it's still a mystery as to why I threw up, but at least I felt a lot better when I finally did. I caught my connecting train towards Geneva in time and I was on my way.
A few hours later I was back in Geneva airport, still a bit untrusting of British Airways after they lost my bags only a week earlier, but everything seemed to go smoothly and before I knew it I had arrived at London Heathrow. Nic was nice enough to be waiting there for me at arrivals to catch the Tube over to my hostel near Kings Cross station.
We had a good chat and a catch up on the Tube, I checked in and dumped my bags at the Kings Cross YHA, and we set off to wander around the city. We spent some time at a net cafe, walked around Piccadilly Circus and one of the other similar areas for a bit, grabbed some Indian at a little restaurant which tasted alright but our waiter tried to rip us off so we stiffed him on the tip and paid the exact amount in pence, grabbed an ice cream which I managed to drip on my white shorts, checked out a tacky souvenir shop, went to a pub near Chinatown where I had a pint, and that was pretty much our day. It was a lot of fun, and I'm glad I stopped off for a chill-out day rather than going straight to Dublin from the airport.
Day 118: August 1 - ENGLAND - London, WALES - Llanfairpwll, IRELAND - Dublin
Accommodation: Barnacles Temple Bar House, Dublin
Today was a travelling day, for the first half at least. It was overcast and a little windy and threatening to rain, but this is just a normal day in London. I lugged my bags to the Kings Cross Tube station and caught a Tube taking me to London Euston station, which was a hassle to walk around once I got off with all sorts of signs and huge crowds of people everywhere. I got there and found my train up on the huge indicator board, but it didn't tell me which platform to catch it from. I noticed this with several departing trains on the board, and it was a surreal moment seeing the platform number appear and watching a hoard of people rush across to the platform. Eventually it was my turn, so as soon as my platform came up I had to zoom across with the rest of the people on my train and fight for a good seat.
I'd been catching buses and trains all across Europe and they were all pretty smoothly
run, but England's train system seemed a bit unorganised. I got on and found whatever seat I could, with my bags being too big to fit in any luggage compartments so I had to sit them on the seat next to me. I think those two seats had been reserved but no-one ever came up to me to ask me to move to another seat, so I stayed for my whole trip.
The scenery was mainly green fields and small towns, one of those being the town of Rugby but sadly I saw no rugby grounds from the train, and there was no real indication that I was crossing the border into Wales, it just happened and I found out later. I did pass some nice lakes, and about halfway into my trip I had to change trains at a small station called Rhyl. It was here that I found out I was in Wales as all the signs at the station were in English and Welsh. The wind was blowing here and it felt colder here than most places I'd been to in Europe, but I only had to wait 10 or 15 minutes until my next train arrived to the Isle of Anglesey where I would be catching my ferry to Ireland, however I still had one more stop to make before then.
About half an hour before the ferry stop I came to a station known for claiming the longest place name in the world, Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, which means "St Mary's church in the hollow of the white hazel near to the rapid whirlpool and the church of St Tysilio of the red cave", pretty much a blatant grab at dragging tourists to its town, but it worked for me! I took photos of the train station sign and the tiny length of the station itself, stood in front of the sign and had someone take a photo of me, and bought a fridge magnet with the town's name on it. Yes I was being a major tourist, and I loved it! I had an hour to kill here before the next train, and I filled it easily.
Back on the train I only had just over half an hour until the end of the line where I would be catching my Ireland ferry. I checked in and got on. This ferry wasn't as extravagant as the Stockholm-Helsinki one, but still had about 4 or 5 levels full of things to do. This ferry wasn't as extravagant as the Stockholm-Helsinki one, but still had about 4 or 5 levels full of things to do. I found inside and outside viewing decks, a cafe, a duty free shop since this was international travel, a place to relax with reclining seats and watch crap TV, and a pub where Irish people were ordering pints of Guinness from at 3pm in the afternoon. I shouldn't have been surprised at this.
The ferry was a pleasant trip and I got off at the ferry terminal to find out there was a taxi strike on today. I was wondering how I was going to get into town when a bus turned up offering to take people in for only 5 Euro, so I went for that. I was happy to be using Euros again which I was so familiar with, and it was lucky I still had a few left over from Finland. The bus went through some ugly looking industrial areas before reaching some streets with slum houses, and it wasn't long before we turned into the main area of Dublin. Not having a map with me this time I only had a vague idea of where I was going, I just knew I had to find the Temple Bar road or something, and that's where I'd find my hostel. Thankfully this was easier as I expected. The hostel reception was tiny, and the only way to the rooms was up several flights of stairs with no lifts in sight, but my dorm room wasn't too far from the ground floor so it was only a small climb with my bags. My dorm room had 8 beds in a very small area, including the bunk below mine which had a cute blonde girl asleep in it. There was only one bed left which was right near the window which had a fair bit of street noise coming in even when the window was closed, but there was an ensuite available so it wasn't all bad. I dumped my bags and checked out the pub scene just around the corner. I grabbed a quick bite to eat and had a look at the establishments around me, but for some reason I was pretty tired and wasn't even in the mood for a quick pint. I watched some TV back in the hostel then crashed in bed. There was a Gaelic football match on TV which I was excited to watch, but I would've been happier if I'd given myself the time to actually attend one and see the action first hand. I do intend to return to Ireland, so Gaelic football is on my list.
About 11:30pm I was woken up by a busker outside my window with an electric guitar and a mini amplifier belting out some tunes. I tried sleeping through it but it was just too loud. I stared at him a few times hoping my death stares would cut through him and he would get the message to move on but he didn't. I noticed he wasn't getting any tips in his tip hat on the ground, although he was in a spot where no-one was walking past and he wasn't a very good player anyway. He eventually left about 1am and I finally got to sleep. I've got nothing against buskers until they keep me awake, and this guy was being a downright prick. I should've thrown something at him.
Day 119: August 2 - Dublin
Accommodation: Barnacles Temple Bar House, Dublin
I had only given myself a day in Dublin so I had to fit in all my sightseeing today or come back some other time to do it. I had a decent sleep-in after that terrible busker wouldn't stop playing crap outside my window, then wandered off to find something nice for brunch. I found a decent looking cafe where I had an omelette with too much salt in it (who puts salt in an omelette? weird Irish people) but a nice lime juice and coffee, although the service was terrible and I considered getting up and walking out to see if they'd notice as they weren't getting my bill after I repeatedly tried to get each staff member's attention.
I walked along the main Temple Bar street but got hassled by people with clipboards trying to sell me things I didn't want, so I had to get off the main street. I found myself at the visitors centre, which was only a very touristy souvenir shop. Most things here were either green or had Guinness or Ireland written on them, and I couldn't even find a decent fridge magnet. Still, I figured out a few places to visit.
Just down from the visitors centre was Trinity College, Dublin's most historic university I believe it was. I got sucked into doing a 10-Euro tour but it wasn't all that bad. I saw some nice historic buildings, got to learn about the history of the students and professors of the university, and even gained entry to the world famous Book Of Kells which I also learnt lots of things about. Most of the exhibition was of copies of the book's pages blown up to poster size and stuck on the walls with explanations as to what it all meant, then when I saw the book itself it seemed so small and insignificant in terms of its importance and centuries of age. Upstairs from there was the entrance to the historic Trinity College library. Being a librarian I got a bit overexcited and took out my camera, then a guide bellowed "no photography!" and I saw the sign right next to me feeling a bit stupid while putting away my camera. The shelves were so high and the book coverings were so detailed and frail yet fascinating. Obviously I couldn't touch anything but the sights were amazing. I walked out to the gift shop where I failed to find a decent fridge magnet, left there to pass tourists as well as students, then walked back outside the college gates onto the street again.
From this point I had no major plans until a certain brewery tour I was aiming to visit before it closed for the day. I wandered the streets for a bit going here and there past shops and other things, then I realised I had no idea where I was going. I had to pull out a map to figure out where to go next. Eventually I got back on track and found myself at St Patrick's Cathedral, named after the patron saint of Ireland. It was spectacularly huge, but for some reason I wasn't in the mood to go visiting inside the gates of the cathedral grounds. Just up the road was the Christ Church Cathedral, but again I wasn't up for going any closer than the street across from it. I was happy to take photos just for now.
I would've liked to visit the Kilmainham Jail but I didn't get my act together to figure out where it was and by the time I was up for visiting my map said it was closed. So I only had one more place left to visit. Following my map I was walking down a main street with some average looking shops and equally average looking people. I walked a bit further and passed a big metal door with a sign saying "The Brewery Hostel". I knew I was close. Then I came to a huge sandstone wall and I saw a sign, Guinness Storehouse, pointing down a road. I followed the road surrounded by huge sandstone walls on both sides and I thought I was at my destination, but after another 5 minutes of walking I had to turn another corner. It was all a big tease! Then one more corner and I came across a revolving door. Through it I wandered and found the entrance to the Guinness Storehouse! I had arrived about an hour and a half before closing so it was pretty empty. I've been to several breweries here and there but I'd been anticipating this one for some time. I must say overall it wasn't that spectacular but it was still interesting. There was a huge manmade waterfall with a sign telling us it was the same water used to brew Guinness, but obviously a gimmick to get your attention. I saw historical photos of the storehouse building, a replica of the 9000-year-old lease and history on Arthur Guinness himself, the way their beer was brewed and the wooden barrels used to store the beer in without giving away any secrets, then I came across the first bar where I was given a tiny glass of Guinness. What a letdown, where's the rest? More and more levels I climbed, barely running into other people along the way. I came to the old advertising section which was fascinating, especially a replica of the actual harp used as the logo and old TV ads on an interactive touch screen. I got to a place where I could pour my own pint, but there was no staff member to assist and everything was locked up! No fair, I wanted my money back! Still another level to go and I reached the top, a rooftop bar enclosed in glass with views of all of Dublin, and this was where all the people were, chilling out with their pint of Guinness. Well what else could I do? I scored my free pint (after admission fee of course) and enjoyed the nice views with the other few dozen people while watching the sun slowly go down. After a while a guy with a French accent started chatting to me. He was a French Canadian from Montreal and we had a good chat about this and that. I even took a photo with him. I rather liked my pose in the photo, beer in hand, thumb up to the camera, and a smirk on my face. My next pint was going to cost me money but I didn't care so much at this point. Eventually over a speaker someone said the bar was closing soon but there was a shuttle bus back into the Temple Bar region. I couldn't pass up a free ride back to my hostel and all the Irish pubs so I joined them. On the bus my new friend and I got chatting to a few others on the bus, some from England, some from the USA, some from Asia, and we all decided to join together to grab some food and enjoy a few beers. We caught some sort of taco or enclosed pizza pocket imitation before visiting a nice authentic Irish pub. In my spirit of trying things I hadn't tried before I saw a beer called Southwark that I'd never seen before, so I tried it. It was pretty smooth and tasty, and much better than the poor South Australian version. The chat was good, the music was catchy and upbeat, and it was a good atmosphere, but only an hour or so after we got there the pub was closing. It was more of a group decision than my sole decision on where to go next, and the group's decision was to go to a nightclub-style place where a guy was singing U2 songs badly and various other average covers. I didn't come to Dublin on my own real night out for the sort of crap I could get at home so I was tempted to get up and leave, but I felt like some company so I stayed. After a little while they were keen to leave, so I did also and by this point I wasn't in the mood to kick on into the night by myself so I went back to my hostel and crashed in bed. I vowed to return and take in the true Dublin experience at some stage in the future.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.296s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 7; qc: 43; dbt: 0.0877s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
