Back in the good old UK

The ferry crossing was as smooth as ever, we arrived on time but there was a slight delay before we were allowed to start our engines and disembark. Someone couldn't find their car maybe?

We drove directly southwards, back along the roads we'd driven along last week. We were looking for a lunch spot and in the little village of Letterston we spotted the sign for one. We pulled in and all 3 of us had the Pensioner Special – abread roll, a cup of tea, cod, chips and mushy peas followed by ice cream. The restaurant was called – Something's Cooking. 

Apparently it's won awards for it's fish and chips – deservedly so.

Just as we finished our lunch the first drops of rain started to fall, and they got bigger and closer together as we headed home to St Albans.

The traffic got very heavy as we passed alongside the Welsh cities, Swansea, Cardiff and Newport, it was still busy as we crossed the Severn Bridge and bypassed Bristol and Bath but then it started to ease.

We stopped at a Motorway Services and had a pee and cuppa stop, we also bought fresh bread and milk as well as some sandwiches to have once we got home.

We exited the motorway south of Wantage because we didn't want to get involved in more heavy traffic around Reading and we certainly weren't going anywhere near the M25.

The rain had stopped by now and it was a lovely scenic drive through the Oxfordshire countryside across into Buckinghamshire and Hertfordshire. We arrived safely home around 7.40pm.

Door to door (from B & B to St Albans) approximately 12 hours, including stops for lunch and a coffee break as well as the 3 and a half hours ferry crossing and check in one hour before sailing.

We have 10 days of our holiday left, have a couple of dinner dates with old friends and a few places to go but basically we are relaxing, chilling out and getting ready to fly home.

The first day 'home' was of course time to do the washing, the weather was kind although it kept threatening to rain and leave the washing wetter than it was when it came out of the machine.

The next day we relaxed and then in the evening were collected by our good friends (old school mate and her husband, Cheryl and Bob) and we went into St Albans to the Little Marrakech restaurant. 

We had been before, but it was about 4 years ago, and the food was very good. Bob had, very sensibly booked a table and we had a very cosy booth, draped with voile curtains. We enjoyed a very nice meal but a couple of the dishes had a little bit too much tomato based sauce. Other than that it was a very enjoyable evening.  As we left we had to push through the crowds standing in the doorway waiting for a table, just as well we booked.

Then it was the weekend and the Saturday market was back in town. We love street markets.We both wandered down for a look around.

We are on holiday and so ….. off to lunch.

 Jim drove us to a little pub near Hitchin, called 'The Rusty Gun. The pub has a small farm area out the back, where the chickens and pigs can be found. For 1 pound you can buy a bag of feed to feed to the piglets, then you can come back in a few weeks and eat the nice fat piglet!!!

There wasn't a vast selection on the menu but it was, as we've had on all of our meals, very tasty. Michael and I both had a felafel and haloumi burger – may sound odd but it was very good. It wasn't a deliberate decision to have vegetarian meal because of the sweet little piggies.

That evening we had a light meal, a fry up with bacon and Irish black and white pudding, then we all relaxed in front of the tv.

Sunday was a day of rest and a traditional home cooked lunch, with strawberried and cream for dessert. I really should have gone for a long walk after lunch, but the clouds rolled in and there was a cold wind so I stayed put.

On Monday I did go for a long walk in the morning - around the shops of St Albans.

Then after lunch we were all on computers doing more family history research. A lot of work has been done by several family members and we are now trying to fill in a few gaps and link one line of cousins, really just collecting anecdotes and finding old addresses before that generation disappears. It's so very frustrating because some townships and some city streets are missing from the online records, and those missing streets are not listed as being missing. So you don't know if your relatives are not on record because the online records are deficient or they had moved away. To add to this frustration the relatives seem to change the spelling of their names , whether on a whim or due to illiteracy. A case in point is - Elizabeth (also called Eliza) Cashin (sometimes spelt Cassin), maiden name Mines : on her first child's birth register she is recorded as Elizabeth Cashin Mynes!

That evening we had another reunion with an old friend, I worked with Judy in London in the early 1970s and we have only managed to catch up a couple of times in the last 40 years. We think the last time was around 25 years ago!!! We met at the Six Bells pub,in St Michael's street St Albans (near Veralum museum). A very nice location and a nice quiet pub. The food was excellent. I can recommend the stuffed pepper with grilled haloumi, salad and new potatoes. Very, very good.

All too soon we had to say A Beintot – hoping that it won't be too long before we meet again.

The next day and we were off out for lunch – it really is turning into an eating holiday.

We got the bus to Watford, and went to Jimmys.

Apparently there are a few around the UK, these restaurants are like a food hall but you only make the one payment, then help yourself to whatever you fancy. This means that you can mix Italian, Mexican, Chinese and Indian all together, a little bit of each on your plate. There are fresh tasty salads, and scrumptious dessert (including a chocolate fountain and marshmallows for dipping). Soft drinks and coffee are included in the price.

After eating we wandered around the shops. Watford has a big shopping Mall, like the ones we have back in Aus and all of the main stores are huge – so much bigger than the High Street branches in St Albans.

We didn't buy a lot but I was happy to find the sandals that I'd like in St Albans but couldn't get in my size. As I paid by credit card the computerised till knew that I was from overseas - the receipt was printed, then a couple of discount offers and then a really long receipt which detailed the VAT paid and how to claim it back as a non-eu resident. The sandals cost 25 pounds, the VAT was 4 pounds 17pence. The administration cost to claim was 3 pounds 17pence, I could therefore get 1 pound back at the airport (if I stood in line and waited) –don't think I'll bother, thank you.

That night, after a very light dinner, we had another play with the Irish census and watched tv.

Wednesday is the other day that the market is held in St Albans, some of the stalls are the same but there are a few different stalls on each day. I walked into town and wandered along checking out all of the stalls. On Saturday mornings the place is packed, it was lovely this morning, nice and quiet with plenty of room to check out the stalls. I made two purchases – a set of 5 photo frames and a solar powered 'Dancing Queen'. Yes ER II shaking her booty and waving. I know just the place for it when we get home – on the window sill. You'll have to guess which room!

In the afternoon we were all set to catch a bus up to Harpenden to see the Mid Week Motor Show. It was due to start at 2pm and finish around 8pm, one of the very few mid week shows. Just as we were about to leave the house it rained; not just a shower, but RAIN. We decided to wait a while, have a cuppa and see how long it lasted. The rain turned into drizzle and then stopped but by now it was 3.30pm and it was so dark and overcast that we put the kettle on again and stayed in.

When Jim came home around pm he couldn't believe that we'd had rain, he'd been about 2 miles away and hadn't had any. Who knows, if we'd risked it the weather there might have been lovely, but we've had enough sightseeing in the rain on this trip.

We'd told Jim how good the Six Bells pub was so we all went there for dinner. It was rather more crowded than it had been on Monday night and the lasagne (that Michael had on Monday) was off the menu. On my recommendation Michael had the stuffed pepper and loved it. I had tuna steak and must say that I found it a little dry.

The car park was so full that we had been blocked in, I had to ask two people to move their cars so that we could get out. The street was full too. So, if thinking of going to the Six Bells go on a Monday night. The area around there, St Michaels, is very nice with some lovely old houses and there is a nice walk along the river, Ver.

The next day Michael tried a few van wreckers and then Fiat dealerships to find a particular part for the motorhome back in Aus. After a few false starts we got an address in St Albans. Jim happily drove us there and although not a total success (we didn't buy the part) we now have an authorised part number which can be ordered from Italy (they offered to order it for us but it would take 5 days).

We then drove on to one of our favourite shops – Aldi. I bought one item for the kitchen and then we went on to have a look around Asda. A huge supermarket, which sells everything else as well – clothes, electronics including televisions, camping gear etc. The sun seems to have deserted us, as the weather is now very cloudy and overcast with the forecast for rain over the next 3 days and a max temp around 20 degrees. I checked out the weather back home – lovely winter days – sunny and 22 degrees. 

The next morning as promised it rained - it started to sprinkle at 9.00am and continued throughout the day. After lunch I donned my red shower proof and borrowed an umbrella (I'd found out in Venice and Ljubljana that it was just shower proof, not rain proof) and set off to walk into St Albans. A couple of times I had to avoid the huge puddles across the road from blocked drains. (Apparently the road floods every time it rains, but as it only happens when it rains the council doesn't see any urgent need to do anything about it.)
 The streets were almost deserted, in wet weather gear it would have been quite pleasant.Yesterday in Asda I had been looking at a nice waterproof jacket but decided against it as I just wouldn't get much use out of it, who would have thought that we needed wet weather gear in UK in July!? 

That evening we were joining our friends Cheryl and Bob again, Bob was once again kindly picking us up and we were going to their house for a curry. The rain continued, there was a road closure causing huge tail backs and we were glad to be just driving across town not trying to get home after day's work. The meal was lovely, not too hot, really tasty. We had a nice chat but, as always, it was soon time to say goodbye. Bob drove us home, in the rain.

The next morning the sun came out, time to quickly do some washing. Then with fingers crossed that it would stay fine we went out to lunch. Jim drove us to a little pub by the Grand Union Canal in Boxmoor,  near Hemel Hempstead.
The entry to The Three Horseshoes is down a very narrow road - Winkwell Lane. Just as you round a bend there is a very narrow bridge and then the canal - we got there as a boat was going down the canal so the swing bridge was open. After a short wait we moved on but the queue on the other side stretched out passed the entrance to the pub car park. We couldn't turn right and they couldn't move because there was a queue of traffic behind us blocking the narrow bridge and laneway. We drove on and found a gap in the traffic by the 'overflow' pub car park. 
We walked back and got a table outside, on the canal bank, next to the bridge. Lunch was very nice  (the reviews on tripadvisor are mixed, but our expereince was of freshly cooked pies, a lovely mushroom stroganoff, nice sausages and chips but it was a on the dear side for pub grub).
Afterwards we were delighted that a couple of boats came along and the swing bridge was opened. 

Then we persuaded Jim not to head back up the lane but to turn right out of the car park, under the railway bridge and see where the road lead to. It must go somewhere we reckoned as there was a lot of traffic about, they must be going somewhere. 

 The road was not quite as narrow as the lane had been but it was certainly only one car wide, with a few passing places. We passed some lovely houses and some farms and riding stables; we hoped that we wouldn't meet a tractor or horse float. 
After some encouraging words Jim drove on and was pleased to see a junction ahead. We were on the outskirts of Hemel Hempstead, which was to our right - we turned left.
When we had left St Albans we noticed on the road side that the Dacorum Steam and Country  Fayre  was being held this weekend, in Potten End. We asked where that was, Jim didn't know so we decided to look it up and maybe head off there tomorrow. 
As we turned left heading away from Hemel, we saw another sign for the Steam Fayre, then another and then lots of parked cars and men in high visibility vest directing traffic - we were in Potten End! "Turn left here Jim", we cried, he did and we were soon parked and on our way into the Fayre.
It was not a huge affair, but a nice afternoon out. There were old trucks, some old 'showman's' campers, and of course some steam engines.

  

There were some beautiful birds of prey (Kestrels, a Harris Hawk, a Black Kite and a Steppes Kite) and a very good demonstration of horseshoeing by a blacksmith.

The ground was not too muddy but there were some deep ruts were the huge trucks had driven around, we kept an eye on the weather and fortunately the black clouds rolled on by. 
The proceeds of the Fayre go to the local Hospice, last year this little fayre raised over 120,000 pounds!
Then we carried on our way, we went into Berkhampstead. A lovely little town, not too crowded.
It was around 3.00pm but some market stalls were already packing up. we walked along the main street, checked out a very good Oxfam book shop (no purchases) and then drove out to the National Trust property, Ashridge estate. 

 Ashridge Estate is a 2,000 hectare (5,000 acres) area of the Chiltern Hills with beech and oak woodlands, commons and chalk downlands. These very different landscapes each support a rich variety of wildlife, including carpets of bluebells in spring, rare butterflies in summer and the fallow deer that rut in autumn.
 The Bridgewater Monument sits on top of the Chilterns Plateau in the Ashridge Estate, it was built in 1832 to commemorate the 3rd Duke of Bridgewater, a pioneer of 19th century canal building.

As the weather was turning a little cool and it was late in the afternoon we didn't head off for a walk through the forest nor did we climb the monument.

 We bought an ice cream, checked out the shop and then headed home.
 The next day we were back to winter, we woke to the sound of raindrops, and like Friday it was set in for the day. No sightseeing walks around St Albans today. We settled down with the Sunday newspapers and there we stayed.
I sorted through our collected items, discarding some, trimming others and soon had the packing sorted. Whether it is under the weight allowance remains to be seen but apart from from about 5 books we haven't bought anything like our usual 'stuff'.We had a lovely roast chicken dinner that night, followed by another serve of strawberries and cream, our last strawberries for a few weeks.
 The next morning we rang the taxi company to confirm our pick up time this afternoon. We were almost ready. Jim insisted on one more meal out, so we went out to an old hotel for a carvery lunch. This hotel has recently been sold and is in the throes of winding down its current operation and remodelling the hotel into a flash wedding / hotel venue. 
 The food was as good as always and after lunch we had one last walk through town.

                                          
St Peter's Street St Albans, on a non-market day.The flower seller infront of the Town Hall, with the spire of the Abbey visible in the distance.


Our taxi arrived exactly on time and although we had allowed plenty of time to get to Heathrow we were a little worried by the volume of traffic on the streets of St Albans, I suppose it was to be expected at 5.30pm. The driver said that once we cleared the bottom of the main street the traffic would clear - and it did. We then had to get on to the M25 and travel down to Heathrow.  Surprise, surprise the traffic was flowing freely and we cruised along the M25 very smoothly, arriving at Terminal 2 only 45 minutes later!!
Checking in is always awful, in this instance we tried electronic check in but something didn't gel so we needed to go to a desk.......what can I say - long queues, passengers with incorrect visas, excess baggage, language problems etc. staff having to leave their desks to get further help, at one point out of 6 desks only one was manned; but we eventually were checked in (The bags were each only 20 kgs! I could have bought more stuff!!) and proceeded to security. 
This was actually quicker than check in, we both had to remove our shoes which had set off the body scanner, these were x-rayed and we passed on through okay.
We had just over 3 hours to wait so we went for something to eat. We didn't want a repeat of our last flight home (Michael had food poisoning and was vomiting on the plane) so we opted for a fresh(ish) meal not sandwiches. There are no 'fast food' outlets in Terminal 2 so we headed to "Leons" burgers. The only burger on offer was a chicken burger - er no thanks. We had a 'wrap' and small chips each, then a nice coffee.
Our gate was a 15 minute walk away, so we set off. When we got to the bottom of the tallest escalator we'd ever seen, we were offered a ride on the buggy so we climbed aboard. He could only take us part of the way but every little bit helps. As we got to the gate the flight was boarding, we were well and truly homeward bound now.
Long haul flights are what they are and you get through them as well as you can. Poor Michael really did have a hard time not only coping with cramped leg room but the person in front lay his seat back almost before we were airborne. I think we did manage a couple of hours sleep.
We had a very swift, smooth transfer in Singapore and were soon airborne again. Michael's bad luck continued, this time, although there was more leg room, the person behind him seemed to have a restless leg problem and was kicking the back of Michael's seat. The person in front lay back, of course, but at least the hostess asked him to sit up when the meal was served.
 Due to a late connection with another flight we had been a few minutes late leaving Singapore and we didn't make up this time on the flight, arriving in Perth 10 minutes late. 
So we arrived on Wednesday in the very, very early morning (00:10). 
For the first time we used our e tagged passports and were soon through to the baggage claim area.
I thought we were nice and lucky when as Michael was getting a trolley I spotted one of our bags, then we waited for the second bag.... and waited......and waited........ as the same few sad bags continued to circle on the carousel we realised that our second bag was not going to appear. We found the right desk - filled in the form and joined a really long queue (2 other flights had arrived in the meantime), to pass through customs and quarantine out into the night.and proceeded to security.
Finally at 01:10 on Wednesday morning we walked through the doors to find our friend and neighbour, Graham, sitting quietly reading, we were only 1 hour 15 minutes late!!!
It was around 3:00am when we climbed into bed, my head was spinning as I tried to think what was packed in the missing suitcase. Mostly Michael's clothes I decided, possibly more shirts and trousers lost! 

We woke around 10:30 the next morning and as we were having breakfast we had a phone call from a nice young man who told me that our missing bag was with a courier and would be delivered to us around 2:30p pm. (I suspect it had been left behind in Singapore and then put on the next flight).

The bag arrived at almost exactly 2:30pm -  it was undamaged and had todays date written on it in bold highlighter, adding to my suspicions that it had been left behind somewhere and had been flown to Perth in the early hours. I'm really glad that it did appear because although it was mostly Michael's clothes it also had my lovely new sandals in it, and the phone chargers.
In no time at all everything was unpacked, we then checked through all the mail that had arrived in our absence - no outstanding bills I'm pleased to say.

  Now we have to check the block, do the jobs needed and get fire safe for summer. In between times we will try and get out and about in this great state...... and that story can be found at 

                                    bigtripalmoststayinghome.blogspot.com

                                                              A Bientot


 

It's not that far to Tipperary

A day to rest and get ready, then off to Ireland.....

We woke just after 6am, were up, breakfasted, ready and the car loaded by 7am.

Jim was driving the first leg of the trip as he was familiar with the back roads down to the M4 Motorway, at Slough and Michael is not a morning person. We were heading for Slough to get on the M4 because we wanted to avoid the M25 (we always want to the M25).

We had a slight hold up in Slough just before the motorway junction but we were soon heading westwards towards Wales.

We stopped for a cuppa at a services, and then changed drivers. Jim got in the back and 'rested his eyes' whilst Michael drove.

We didn't have any hold ups, not even for the one or two road works – there were still 3 lanes open, there was just a speed reduction (50mph).

In no time at all we were crossing the Severn Bridge, into Wales. 

There's a one way toll on the Severn Bridge – you pay (6 pounds, 50 pence) when heading West – into Wales.

Make of that what you will, is a penalty for leaving England or do the Welsh want to deter visitors?

Anyway, we crossed the lovely bridge and entered Wales. The M4 continued on well into Wales but then at Camarthen the road became a dual carriageway and then just an ordinary inter-town road. 

There wasn't any heavy traffic, so we were soon driving up to the check in booth at the Ferry Terminal.

The last time we had been in Ireland she didn't have any vacancies so we'd not taken any chances and had booked on line before leaving St Albans.

Ann, our host, was as charming (and young) as ever. We got the rooms sorted out and then headed out for a meal at the local pub. There are two pubs, next to each other, and we went to the second one on Ann's recommendation. A great meal it was too. I love salmon so when it's on the menu it's usually no contest, this time was no exception.

We went back to the B & B and settled down to watch some tv. Jim was happy as there was a hurling game on, we tried to find something more interesting but failed.

The next morning we all enjoyed a lovely breakfast before packing up and heading across country to Tipperary.

Despite what you've heard, it's not a long, long way to Tipperary. The roads in Ireland are getting better and better each time we visit and this time we took a lovely smooth dual carriageway across through New Ross, by-passed Waterford and nipped down to the coast at Dungarvan, where we had lunch.

In Rosslare, Ann had recommended this route and despite our maps showing a 'toll' at Waterford she insisted that there wasn't one. She was wrong, and the map was right. There was a toll to cross the bridge on the western side of Waterford, (nice bridge though).

It was only 1.90 euro so it didn't break the bank.

In Dungarvan we parked the car and walked along the river and into town. There was a small farmer's market but we had no need for anything so just found a nice little cafe and had a light lunch. 

 

We checked out the main street shops, bought a calendar (2016), and some flowers for Anne, Michael's cousin (Michael)'s wife.

We drove out of Dungarvan and found the small local roads leading up through the mountains, through the Vee (outside Clonmel- see August 2013 blog - 'The Gatherers gather' ). 

Then we felt very pleased with ourselves that we found the farm on the first attempt.

It's always lovely to see Michael and Anne and we were soon all sitting around the kitchen table with a lovely cuppa tea chatting and catching up. After about an hour I remembered the flowers in the back of the car!

That evening Jim went off to see one of Anne and Michael's grandsons playing football. I thought that he was playing 'the one game'. (called soccer by some people), but it was, of course, what English folk call Gaelic football. I realised this when they came back and were talking about points and goals!

The next day was quite pleasant, which in Ireland means that it wasn't actually raining.

The three of us went into Cahir, the nearest town, with Anne. Jim wanted to look around Cahir Castle (one of the largest intact castles in Ireland), but we'd seen it before so the three of us wandered around the small town. We went to a small (very small) local market in the town hall, it really was only 4 stalls, why they don't have their stalls the next day at the farmers market we don't know. I suppose the Women's Institute has been baking cakes and having a stall for years, so continues it's the others that have stopped. As Anne bakes a lot we didn't have any need to buy any cakes.

We went into the craft studio and had a look around, they had some really lovely things.

We wandered down Castle Street to a little souvenir shop opposite the castle, we'd just bought our icecreams and were heading back up the street when Jim joined us, he'd finished his tour of the castle.

Edward Keating Hyland was born in Cahir in 1780. He lost his sight early in life and became an expert player of the Uileann Pipes.

 This war memorial was erected by subscription by the people of Cahir and district, in memory of 88 local men who fell in the Great War (1914-18). It was unveiled on November 20th 1930,  a rare event at the time in the south of Ireland.

Cahir Castle is one of the largest and best preserved medieval castles in Ireland. It represents the pinnacle of medieval skill, and contains one of the very few working portcullises (drop gates)in Ireland. The present structure dates to the13th  and 15th centuries.

We headed back for a cuppa and then lunch.

After lunch cousin Michael agreed to accompany us to Bealnablath, between Bandon and Cork City.

To the spot where Michael Collins was ambushed and shot on August 22^nd 1922.

For speed, and to avoid Cork City we took the motorway and had to pay a toll – 1.90 euro.

(It seems that all tolls in Ireland are 1.90, why not 1.50?? I can see that 2.00 euro would make people think they're paying too much but to have the correct change for 1.90 is a challenge. Oh I get it, if you travel regularly you have an e tag, otherwise you have to queue and pay at a manned toll booth. The message is – if you don't want to slow down, get a tag. There is no financial benefit in a tag, it still costs 1.90 each trip.)

After a slight deviation - we missed a turn, we arrived at the spot.

It was easy to see why this spot was chosen, it's got high banks on both sides of the road and is in the middle of a twisty, winding road.

The road had been widened to allow parking and the monument was above the road, behind some railings.  

We climbed up the monument, and tried to interpret the map showing where Collins stood, where the cars were and were the attackers were. We thought we had it sorted and were just leaving when a car pulled up. The man was obviously a local so we checked with him. Yes we were right, the map was not oriented the same way as road before us.

To this day it is unknown why Collins did not just order the convoy to drive on rather than stop and fight. It is also unknown why he did not take shelter in the armoured car that was part of his convoy but choose to shoot back from behind an ordinary touring car.

Michael got talking to this man and he told us that he used to travel along this road to and from work every day, until he retired. He never passed the monument without there being someone there; there was ALWAYS someone there.

Whatever you think of Collins, it says a lot that almost 100 years later, people are still visiting this spot.

We drove back, the same way, another 1.90euro toll.

The next day started quietly, Jim went into Clonmel to watch the same grandson play, this time he was playing hurling.

We had a quiet morning in and then in the afternoon Anne and Michael's son, Eamonn arrived from Galway with his partner and child.

In the evening Michael and I went into Cahir and collected Chinese Take Away for everyone. We'd asked everyone what they wanted, we were having individual dishes not a combined order, there were 10 orders.

I had them written on a piece of paper, with people's names next to the dish. The restaurant took the list, cut it into strips, and taped the name of the dish (and therefore the person's name) to the front of the bag with the meal in. I was very impressed, it saved me having to identify the dishes and remember who ordered what.

It was a great evening meal, everyone was happy and enjoyed the food. Well done Yummy House, Cahir.

There was no lie in the next day, there's never is for someone on a farm, but not for any of us with a toddler in the house.

Jim's sporting holiday continued as he was picked up in the morning to head off to Thurles, to see the Munster Final hurling match. It was being played between Waterford and Tipperary, everyone was a Tipp supporter. (Those who supported Cork – Anne, or Kilkenny – Jim, were tactfully quiet). There was a Tipperary flag in the house so Michael 'planted' it in the garden.

Eamonn was heading back to Galway after lunch, a most splendid lunch it was too. I very rarely cook a roast dinner at home in Australia so we really, really enjoyed these delicious roast dinners.

Anne and Michael have 3 grandsons living nearby, 2 had gone off to Thurles to see the match and the youngest (4yrs) had stayed with us, now that his young cousin had gone back to Galway he was bored.

He wanted to kick a ball around. We went outside to oblige. All four of us were out there playing with him, and I must say that he was tireless – and very good. 

Michael and Anne peeled off, Michael and I stayed on. When we finally caved in there was a very happy little boy running inside to tell his Nan -”I won”.

We both slept well that night.

The next day we drove into Clonmel to visit another cousin. Michael decided to take the scenic route, telling Jim and me that he knew the way – near Cahir a turn to the right, not the left had us going back to where we'd come from - after a very scenic detour we arrived in Clonmel.

After a lovely morning visit we left Clonmel and drove northwards to the little town of Fethard.

(Another cousin, now living in USA, has ancestors from Fethard).

The small town high street was not very exciting, very grey in fact but at the end of the street there was a cheery light blue building – Jolly's Cafe. We parked up and went to Jolly's. We all had tomato soup, brown bread and shared 2 portions of wedges. Yummy.

Fethard is a medieval town and has the longest, medieval town walls in Ireland. We went for a walk around .

 Then we drove a couple of streets to the old Augustinian Abbey before turning back through town and back to Cahir.

We took a 'back road', it was clearly signposted and almost deserted so was a very pleasant drive. 

We arrived on the outskirts of Cahir. Michael was driving and said, lets go home the other way – oh dear! He was driving, he'd decided to take this road but I was expected to navigate!?

We made it though, we found our way 'home' without back tracking.

The next day Jim had plans for us all to drive up to Kilkenny but when he came in to breakfast he said that he'd changed his mind as he didn't fancy walkiing in the rain. It was indeed raining and the clouds were so low there were no mountains to be seen in any direction.

Tomorrow we would be heading back to Rosslare for the ferry on Thursday so we would stay in and spend time with Anne (or get underfoot?)

Anne headed off to Cahir for some shopping and the 3 of us stayed in, it was like we'd had a family spat, I was in the kitchen on the computer, Jim was in the lounge reading and Michael was in the front lounge reading, 3 people in 3 rooms.

In the afternoon a friend of Michael and Anne's that we had met two years ago when we came over for the family get together (with long lost cousins) came around for a cuppa and a chat. She's an absolute 'gas', so funny and so very, very nice. It was really great to see her again and we had a lovely time laughing and joking with her. Then we had to break up the jollity and send her on her way as we were taking Michael and Anne out to dinner.

Anne had been to this restaurant in Cahir with some girlfriends a few weeks ago and really enjoyed it so we thought we'd take them there and Michael could check it out too. The Lava Rock, only opened last year but has already won Best Restaurant in .

We share Anne's enthusiasm, it was great. Good décor, good ambience, excellent staff and really good food. The desserts were exquisite so, once again the camera came out. (The waitress reckoned that the desserts were the best thing – she'd have 3 a night if she could).

 

So, if you're in Ireland and near Cahir you won't be disappointed (unless you're there on a Monday as they're closed then) – visit The Lava Rock restaurant on Castle Street.

We headed home and dragged out the last evening with another cuppa in the kitchen, but we finally went off to bed.

The next morning we woke to lovely, lovely sunshine and fantastic views of the mountains on both sides, the house lies in between the Knockmealdown Mountains and the Galtee Mountains. 

We were up and packed ready to go by 10.00am, we bade our farewell and headed off Eastwards.

We stopped for a while in Waterford City where Jim had contacted someone who had some more information about the family's grandmother. Jim is trying to fill in gaps in the family tree and get some more anecdotes about the people. We were meeting this couple in the Tower Hotel on the Quay. 

We found it easily and parked nearby, having time to spare we looked around the immediate area.

In 1848 Meagher went to France to study and returned to Ireland with the new Flag of Ireland, a tricolour of green, white and orange made by and given to him by French women sympathetic to the Irish cause. The flag was first flown in public on March 1 1848 during the Waterford by-election, when Meagher and his friends flew the flag from the headquarters of Meagher's "Wolfe Tone Confederate Club" at 33 The Mall, Waterford.

In August 1848 Meagher, and othes were arrested, tried and convicted for sedition. Due to a newly passed law the sentence meant that they were sentenced to be hanged, drawn and quartered. Due to public and international pressure clemency commuted the death sentence to transportation for life to "the other side of the world". In 1849 he was sent to Van Diemen's Land - Tasmania.

We sat in the hotel bar/bistro near the door and put a card on the table with this couple's name on it. Bang on time they strolled in. What a lovely couple and she had brought photos of her grandparents and other family members. We were shocked to see how much her grandmother resembled Jim and Michael's mother – there is obviously some family connection, it just has to be proved. At the moment there is a missing link between the two. We'd met at lunch time so decided to eat at the hotel, another great meal. We only had a light lunch, soup for some and sandwich for others, it was very fresh & tasty.

Then we had to say goodbye and head off again. We had parked on the street in a 2 hour bay, which expired at 1.30 but were told not to worry as the warders all have lunch between 1 and 2 so we were safe for another half hour. (Don't know if it's true, or if it's only the warders in that area, but it would be good if it was true for the whole of the city – you could double park and just pop into the bank or shop in your lunch hour!!)

Time to bid farewell Jim will keep in touch and do more investigating and they'll meet again.

We left Waterford by a back road and headed out to the little village of Passage East in County Waterford and caught the ferry across the Suir to Ballyhack in County Wexford, saving minutes and miles on the trip around Waterford and the bay.

 The ferry started in 1982, the present vessel "TINTERN" came into service in December 2006. This  has a capacity for about 28 cars. The Service operates continuously, every day with the exception of 25 & 26 Dec. The return crossing takes about 15 minutes. With an average of 120 crossings each day -

"You won't have long to wait" 

The village of East Passage was truly delightful, on the outskirts was a sign warning of goats on the road. We all had a laugh and said that we'd not seen a sign like that before – when down on the quay waiting for the ferry I looked back up the roadway, up to the hill tip and there was a goat! The sign was right.

We love these little ferries, the last one we'd been on was in Mannum in South Australia when we went for a round trip as foot passengers just for the ride. (bigtripalmoststayinghome.blogspot.com - Trains and boats and a plane - pt 2  ).

Then we drove on eastwards along country roads which reminded us of the roads that were all over Ireland when we first started visiting in late 1970s.(The roads between towns are very much improved now).

Some of the villages were, to us, very typically Irish, we couldn't be anywhere else in the world – quaint whitewashed cottages, ugly modern council housing, hardly a flower in the gardens and a huge, solid grey stone church in the centre of the village. Add to this some tractors towing farm machinery and you have it. I'm not knocking it, it is very special and although it may not be unique to Ireland it is very, very typical, some villages in Wales and Scotland have their own unique feel. The only things missing to complete the stereotype were the rain - the weather was lovely, a few clouds but lots of sunshine and a couple of donkeys.

We were soon back in Kilrane, next to Rosslare Harbour and we drove around and looked down on the harbour, enjoying the sunshine then checked into the B & B for our last night in Ireland.

 We walked down to the pub, and I enjoyed a full (very full) pint of Bulmers Cider - made in Clonmel.

Then we had an early night, setting the alarms for 6.30 ready for breakfast at 7.00am and out for the ferry check in before 8.00 and sailing at 9.00am.