What to do when you feel all on your own? Well have a glass of wine and write about your holiday. Write about your holiday before it becomes ancient history.
For Christmas I embarked on a lovely journey. I departed my part of West Yorkshire on the 22nd of December. It was evening. It was damp enough that I wore my heavy coat, a sweater, and packed my roomy sweatshirt from back in the days of the daycamps. I took the coach from here, all the way across to Dublin. From there I had to change coaches to get to Cork. I'm talking about Ireland by the way. I went to spend my Christmas with an old friend and her family. It was great fun.
The journey wasn't too bad. I had my own seat for most of the way. Or perhaps it was just part of the way. When you travel at night, things start to blur together. Eventually, the coach filled up and I had a man sitting beside me that was heading home to mother. She bought his ticket because she wasn't putting up with any excuse as to why he wouldn't be home for Christmas. It was quite a decent story the way he told it (until I heard it ten times). He may have been a bit overzealous with his drinking prior to getting on the coach, which is why I think that he told and retold the story. He also kept asking me the same questions again and again, almost like he didn't realise he has asked me several times already.
Eventually we arrived at Hollyhead which is where the ferry is caught. Before getting on the ferry we all had to get off the coach, collect our luggage and pile into this shed. I kid you not, it was a large shed. The door behind us had to be closed before they would check our passports and let us out the other side to board the next coach.
The ferry was nice. I had a full breakfast at 2am.
I went out on deck to see the view (very dark at night-go figure). I also wanted to take a picture of the ferry. I was almost knocked into the sea by the wind. The wind was very impressive.
Getting off the ferry meant a coach change in Dublin. It was about 6 am when we arrived. I had forty minutes between coaches which meant that I say in the terminal and was bored for that time. There was a nicely decorated christmas tree though. Reminded me of the time of year. It is so odd, after all the years of working retail, I don't notice that it is Christmas time unless I see something like that. I think that also has to do with my lack of television. Television programs and commercials are big informers of the time of year I'm finding. Living without them leaves you a little out of the loop.
Once I reach Sligo I was greeted by Sue and Phil at the bus station. I was so happy to see them! They took me to this cute little cafe where we had wraps for lunch. This wrap that I ate was amazing. I enjoyed it so much that I wish I had taken a picture.
Here are some pictures of the Sligo town. I loved how colourful Sligo was. It is such a change from all of the Stone in West Yorkshire.
In the picture below is Pepper Alley, the cafe that Sue and Phil took me to for lunch. If is the shopfront that has the purple sign just to the left of the red building (not that you can really see the sign colour). If you are ever in Sligo, go to Pepper Alley.
Sue! This is the main river. Just around this area, the town council of Sligo invested a lot of money during the economic boom to fix up the area. They made it into a big pedestrianized area with a beautiful walkway along the river and some really modernized buildings like the one I'm standing in front of in the later picture.
This carving is in the front of a shop that belongs to M. Quirke. He's pretty much world-famous. He started out as a butcher, and is now a wood-carver. His shop was closed the day I was in town so I had to look from the window. Very cool though.
When in Ireland, one does not ask for Strongbow. Since I don't drink beer I drink cider. You must have Bulmers. It's the closest thing to the national cider as you can get. In England Bulmers is sold under then label of Magners because the name Bulmers was already taken by a different cider. By the way, Bulmers is better than Strongbow.
My fantastic hosts! This is Christmas eve. We went into the town for a few errands and had lunch at the pub. The pub's name is The Swagman Bar. They had a very interesting menu. My favourite thing on the menu (in terms of description was the Funky Chunky Chips. I didn't order them, but Sue did. She said they were a bit disappointing. My burger, however was not. Irish beef is MUCH better than English. According to the Irish it is because the cows are allowed to roam the pastures and eat grass instead of being grain-fed.
I just loved how the sky looked!
This is the village pub. It was down the road from where we were staying with Niall and Jill. What you see in this picture is literally the whole pub. It was pretty quiet that night (Christmas Eve) but we had a nice evening having a pint. I tried Guiness. Guiness in Ireland is not pasteurized, like the stuff that is exported. All of the Irish in the group swore that it made a difference in the taste. Regardless, I was still not a fan. I think what I liked the best about this pub was the open fire place, which is right behind where I'm standing on the right and that it is literally the smallest pub I have ever seen. The pub part is literally all you see in this picture and behind the man who took the picture for me is a partition which divides the front area which is large enough for three people to stand in and sells essentials like flower and dishliquid.
Over Christmas I saw some lovely and warm temperatures like 12 degrees! Everything was so green. I've always grumbled about green Christmases, but this one was great!
Boxing day. Boxing day in Ireland is called St. Stephen's Day. Let's go to Strandhill! This is where Phill and his brothers grew up, not far from Sligo. It's still in Sligo district though. It was pretty rainy Boxing day hence the rainbow. We went for some lunch and to see the ocean.
Phil suggested that I go for a swim in the turbulent waters. Then I saw the sign that said no swimming, I think he was trying to kill me....
The neat thing about Strandhill is that it is famous for surfing. Being right on the ocean it has good waves.
Cool random sculpture also on the coast.
Why is there a connon here? Someone looked this up for me, but I don't remember why. Something history and war related.
Before dropping me off the next day at the bus station, I was brought back to The Strand for lunch.
Fish and chips = excellent.
Back in Sligo.
Bittersweet: tired from excitement, but not wanting to go because it was so wonderful being in Ireland.
Food and drink break on the way back to Bradford....
On the ferry from Ireland...You can get...Scottish shortbread.
In England we love our potatoes!
Creepy.
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