Poland Part 1 – July 19th

Poland Part 1 – July 19th

On the first Polish train that took us out of Czech Republic we are charged a fee in K'z just for the ride to the Polish border. Once the border is crossed the conductor comes by again and this time collects your fare in Polish currency. We didn't have any so they by necessity converted just enough for the ticket. It was odd too at that last Czech town which is a fairly common border crossing there is zero provision made for changing any money. We arrive in Poland to the Walbrzych station at 11:30 am on a Saturday. The banks were closed so I couldn't exchange my remaining Czech Koruny for Polish Zlotny so I withdrew about $300 in Zlotny (pronounced zwat or zwaty abbreviated Zt or pln) from the ATM. ATM's are the best place, usually, to get a more favorable rate. The Czech Republic and Poland are both in the European Union but do not use the Euro, they retain their former currencies. The Czech Republic originally scheduled to go Euro in 2009 has moved that date back to 2012 and Poland is scheduled for 2012 but most are skeptical that that date will be met. Much higher inflation is expected when the Euro is introduced. Both countries economies are not strong enough yet to withstand that degree of inflation. We walk around what we thought was the downtown. Walbrzych, as the area grew, simply absorbed nearby villages and towns so that often you will come across a section of town that looks like it retains some of the old village square. That is where we are now, the real city center is about a half a mile from here. We stop in to a small deli-restaurant and have some cabbage rolls, pierogi and potatoe pancakes along with some various types of salad eg beet salad, macaroni salad, slaw in several forms and potatoe salad, all of which can be classified as such but are quite different than the US version. The first thing we notice besides the fact that the food is so darn good is that it is also very affordable. The day turns from lovely to rainy and we run for cover. We have had a fair amount of rain on our trip so far which is so different for us because our last several trips have been to latin america during the dry season having maybe only one or two days of rain over 10 months divided among 3 years. We take a mini-bus to the place we are staying, the parents of our friend Tomascz. On the bus we show our destination address to a couple of people and one lady says, yes she knows about where that is. It is the last stop for the mini-bus and our nice lady holds up a 2 Zt coin and conveys to pay only that amount each. Off the bus she now takes charge and leads us into a huge complex of very tall apartment buildings. Later we learn in excess of 20,000 people live there, it is like a little city, we could easily get lost, but our friend keeps asking directions narrowing in on the address. One of the inquirees joins us in the search. The first lady mobiles our host and Tadeusz comes down to meet us with an umbrella. Because of the rain I am wearing my Pushtan tribal region hat and they talk about that for a little bit. We go upstairs but first bidding fairwell to the nice ladies, the first one getting and giving a big hug. Oh, I almost forgot, we read in our book that it is traditional to bring to the woman of the house an odd number of flowers, so to picture this whole parade you have to put 3 tall pink roses held upright in my hands as we march around. In the apartment we meet Adela, Tomascz mother. We were told there would be no English and that was accurate, I'm sure they were warned they should expect no Polish and they would not have been disappointed. I took out my woefully inadequate phrase book and we said hello and thank you, then we ransacked Tomascz' room to find the English-Polish dictionary which we were positive he possessed. But still communication went very slow as his dictionary was a scholarly treatment of both languages and you had to read carefully to choose the words. Later when I thanked our friend by email he wrote back that he heard about some aspects of our visit and that some of it sounded amusing. Communicating with this tome must have been one of them. You have never heard so many Thank You's strong together as it was the best phrase to use to be social, respectful and somewhat understanding. From this distance it does seem humourous.

Adela was a good cook and we enjoyed her meals. This was our first introduction to a Polish breakfast which looks a lot like a light deli style lunch anywhere else. There are an assortment of cold cuts, pickles, hard boiled eggs, breads and the occasional Parowki (we'd say hot dog). Thank you thank you thank you, lots of Dobre's (good). Now I have to mention the pickles. She made her own and they were the best I've ever tasted, Joan not so much. But I've got the recipe and when cucumber season rolls around I'm making several jars. This is a non-canned cucumber and they are ready in about 5 days but then you need to eat them before they go bad, no problem. At another place they said, that these same pickles once made could then be stored in the refrigerator for a long time, probably won't last that long around me. Tomascz' brother joins us in the evening and he speaks English good enough. Another humurous thing, when Jaric shows up the questions from both sides come pouring out, one after another, rapid fire, with anwers coming back in each others native language. Poor Jaric's English was really being strained. The next day we go to Nowa Ruda, literally New Lump of Coal, to take the mine tour. It was a great tour as the mine had only been closed 3 years and things were still pretty much as they were we are told. It is a hands on tour, coal dust is applied to your face by the guide, the old metal industrial steps are uneven, there is water between the coal car rails, the ceiling is low and it is narrow and damp. We both look about and marvel that in the USA this would never be, everything would be sanitized, cleaned up, steadied, lit, rounded, and guiderailed, in short it would be totally phoneyed up. This was a great tour. It lasted for about an hour and a half. At the end you climbed into a miners coal car, head lowered down, crammed four to a car, the lid was closed over you. I thought that was it, to just try it out, then we jolted forward and we rumbled side to side for a couple of minutes to exit the mine. Totally cool tour. And someday when the liability lawyers have their way this will all be over. They also had good exhibits at this mine, and in the end you could visit a rather large mineral and gem room. It was really first rate. The next day we go to the castle which is beautiful and there is a park that surrounds it that you can take walks in. But our tour is cut short. Some insect bites on my ankle which I received in the Czech Republic have become infected despite the germicide and good care I have been giving them. It doesn't look good. Fortunately, we brought with us a full course of anti-biotics which I start. But I must also rest up and stay off my feet for two days which ends our exploration of Lower Silesia Poland. By the time our stay is up I am ready to travel again. We bid a sad farewell to Tad and Adela. Adela makes us promise that we will send her a postcard when we get somewhere out of the country and Tad is worried that he will be gone, picking up his grandson, when we actually leave. You can see the wheels turning over his furrowed brow. We take the bus to the train and after buying our tickets we wait on the platform for our ride to Wroclaw when who should appear but Tad bearing two bottles of water for us. He smiles and we wait together for the train speaking mostly in sign language. The train rumbles in and we bid Tad and Walbrzych good bye, we are on our way to Wroclaw (pronounced VROTS wouv). In Wroclaw we can't meet our host until 5 pm so we put our bags in the train locker and walk around town. This is a very beautiful town with a large stone paved square lined with the touristy but cute outside umbrellered cafes. Many other places we have been the square is usually open save a statue or fountain, the official buildings are on the edges of the square. In Poland the square almost always contains the Rynek or governmental building smack in the center. They are usually very impressive buildings, palacial in look. Wroclaw is no exception.

Now You Are in Czech Republic – July 13th

Now You Are in Czech Republic – July 13th

Prague, the Paris of Eastern Europe I have heard it called. The plane ride there was bumpy and the landing came with a thud but at least nothing was confiscated from us at the airport, they already took everything they could have. Shhhhh Joan still has her scissors, which are two Samurai swords hinged in the middle, well in reality they are almost a ¼ of an inch too long as it was pointed out to her at one checkpoint, but they let it slide. The correct length for scissors is measured against the security persons name tag, if their name is Ty. We had been assigned seats on our tickets but as we are strolling leisurely to the plane everyone else was in a hurry. Then we found out that the seat assignment was not used and “open seating”, like “shotgun”, was called and if you wanted to sit with who you were traveling with you'd better hustle. We hustled to get two adjoining seats in the back of the plane. At the airport we have a bite to eat then begin to orient ourselves to get into the city. We change only enough money to get us to a currency exchange in town where the tellers don't wear masks, about 10 British pounds. In the Czech Republic they use the Czech crown, or Koruna or Koruny shown as K'c after the numeric amount, such as 7K'c. In town we get 18.60K'c to the dollar the first day and 18.400K'c before we leave, the dollar was sliding a little (shorthand was 1 crown was a nickel then add 10%). The guidebook naturally said to watch out for the money changer in the street and we figured out why. After checking the exchange board at one Change booth we continued walking. We were soon approached by a friend of ours, well I didn't know him but he said, “Hello my friend.” He would change our money for a very good rate. He offered us 20.50 K'c to the dollar, well above the sell rate at the official booths. We said no, that the book told us to watch out for guys like him, he laughed and showed me the money and offered us 30K'c to the dollar. Finally, he offered us 40K'c (more than twice the rate) and of course it was hilarious so he left. The language is Czech and it is a slavic based language. I had little to draw from. Our guide book had a handy little two page dictionary for each Eastern European country which allowed us to go up to anybody and say, “Hello.” “I don't speak Czech.” “Do you speak English?” “Goodbye.” And of course if you really wanted to talk more somewhere in between you can count to ten in their language for their amusement. One real positive with the language is that if you could find a word or phrase in their language they seemed to understand what you were saying despite your less than perfect pronounciation, which was fabulous. Prague, (Praha in Czech) is a real hot destination and it was high season. The place was crowded with tourists. The city is just beautiful, fantastic architecture towering churches. The food was good as well. Potatoe dumplings, Good sausages, bread, soups and other stuff I may not be able to classify. And the renowned Czech beer. I tried several and they were all good. However, the glass is filled and served once the head touches the rim of the glass, so you get about 80% of a glass usually with a very big head. Prague does public transportation right. They have a very good metro system plus a well marked Tram and Bus line. The stops all have maps and the numbers are clearly marked. The kicker is that you can buy one ticket to use on all three. You can buy an 18 minute ticket, like one ride or a 75 minute ticket, ride all you want for those 75 minutes or an all day for just 100K'c, about $5.50. We fought the crowds to see what we had to but then took the Tram around the rest of the city, using an all day ticket, getting on and off whenever it suited our fancy, sort of a build your own city tour. The Czech color is a powder blue and you see that everywhere, it is a nice color, and they seem to overdo the the red flower but it still looked good. Their stained glass in the churches were very bright and colorful, the reds and blues seemed brighter less dark, bloody and somber, even though the basic theme was exactly the same. Chinese food and pizza abound and people who like the New York style of each will like them both. Joan noticed a little bake shop that we went into. We went to this one case and Joan decided to get a slice of what looked like a cheese cake. I took out 15K'c and stuck up one index finger. She said somethings in Czech to which I agreed continueing to point to the cake and holding up one finger. She then wrapped up that cake then crossed the store to the other side and added another piece of pastry. We thought this must be some try these guys and come back for more deal, but when she rang up 30K'c we were befuddled and repointed to only the cake. For some reason she got real pissed off at us. We couldn't figure it out because we hadn't even stopped at that case or looked at that pastry, nor had I tried to say any of the four words we knew so we couldn't have accidentally ordered it. She was raising a stink until a woman behind us said, “Why don't you want to pay for this?” We told her the story, we kept asking the english speaker why did she give us that but she wouldn't say. It is a mystery. We left with just the one piece of cake followed by the still glaring evil eye of that old lady shop keeper. Praha had tons of supermarkets, 95% of them being Albert's. They are literally everywhere. Every other street and in most of the Metro stops, big stores too and busy. We find plenty of friendly people but far more indifferent, short tempered, ill tempered people with a harsh disposition. We don't like saying this because our pleasure is to encounter real nice people everywhere. And I won't say that all Czech Republic citizens are like this but I just have to be honest, this was our experience. And our experience even had to overcome our initial beliefs that the people were nice in the Czech Republic. We had a host in Galway, Ireland who was a man from the Czech Republic who was as nice as could be. I need to qualify this a little in that it was mostly the older people. The Czech people have the ability to ignore you better than anyone. Did you ever see one of those movies or TV stories where the person dies returns to earth as a ghost and amusingly exhausts themselves trying to get the living to notice them, well that is what we looked like. Very little exaggeration. Here is one situation. We go up to a ticket window with two questions. First question I asked could not be answered by this person, she said “Ask inside that door,” the second question couldn't be asked because even though I asked it she'd say “Go inside that door,” open my mouth “Go inside that door,” and on and on until I go inside that door, have another not so delightful experience, then return and I was allowed to ask my second question. And you had better understand it the first time they say it because they aren't happy to repeat it. Change is not placed in your hand it is slapped on the counter and the reciept is torn from the register and thrown in your direction while they look away not acknowledging your thank yous. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. That was our experience and go read 120 more lovely accounts of visits to the Czech Republic then maybe ours was an anomoly. We leave after 4 days, taking a midnight train to Poland. We failed to get off at our first transfer point because “Now you are in Czech Republic,” and you are supposed to know when your stop is coming up in a country you've never been before. We actually did notice our stop immediately on the station sign and grabbed our bags and hustled the 20 feet to the door but we weren't fast enough and the door was automatically locked and when we shouted and banged on the door, two large dogs traveling in the passageway barked violently startling us and adding to the dismal prospect of going somewhere else at 1:30 in the morning with the indifference of the conductresses and passengers giving a not too disimilar experience that what you might imagine in 1937 Germany. So at 1:30am we are let off at a lonely platform, not a soul in sight, with only the knowledge that 3 hours and 15 minutes later we can get a train back to where we should have been. I took some lovely pictures of the blackness with some white lights and a sipea station name. It was a lovely warm night and we were laughing at ourselves before long and it turned into a good time. The train turned up on time and soon we were back where we should have been the night before. Our ticket was still good but our itinerary was shot, we had to remake all our connections being sure to take the same route our ticket designated or it wouldn't have been excepted. We were a little behind our other trains. At the Czech border the connection for the Polish train was handled 6 times a day for a gazillion years, yet no one in the station claimed any knowledge whatsoever of the times, tracks, fares, or destination of the Polish train. This was on purpose of course, because there was some little railroad feud going on regarding the allowing of Polish trains into the Czech Republic. They did begrudgingly give us the train color, black and yellow, so we did know which trains to run up to to ask if they were going to the city we were heading to. Finally we get the correct Polish train and we were pleasantly on our way.

Dublin to London – July 9th 2009

Trip of June 2009

Dublin to London – July 9^th 2009

We fly into London, Gatwick airport minus only a jar of jam, confiscated due to the high explosive powers of the strawberry. Everything else had already been confiscated between NY and Dublin. We are headed well north of London so we decide to spend four hours looking over the most cliché of the cliché London sights.... Westminister Abbey, The Tower, Big Ben, The Rosey Red Cheeks of the Little Children. It is a Thursday but the crowds are huge. I ask a vendor what gives, is it a holiday or something but he says he can't explain it either, it looks like a weekend to him. We catch a coach at 6pm toward Daventry. Our host has graciously offered to pick us up at the bus station. We go to a cozy owner designed and built house in a little town north of London. But it has more to it than a suburb because it is not on the train line therefore not a sleeper community of London but has it's own light industry and agricultural economy. It is nearby Coventry and the Spencer Estate where the late Princess Di's snotty snooty brother hoards her like the Elephant Man's bones. Joan follows that stuff a little, I don't care but for those who do here is what we learned. Supposedly she is not buried on that island in the middle of the estate lake/pond but it was known locally that the family crypt inside the family church (see photo above) was opened after her death, remained open until her funeral and then closed. You decide. And as regards Harry, most believe there was a rugby player in the fence row on that one, but they don't talk much about that. Our host has six guests while we are there including us. Two young men from France, traveling separately, an average middle-aged couple from Sweden with a passion for the MG car, and us. It was a good diverse crowd and we enjoyed it immensely. Since we are building our own designed house we had that much more in common with our hosts beside a love for travel. He's done a much better job than we have as he has finished. We got a concise but thorough primer on the types of housing in England. Council houses, Estate houses etc. Our host drove us around explaining the difference. In England government housing carries no stigma and are well maintained and well built. They are inhabited by members of all the socio-economic classifications. We also saw two Canal locks and a marina. Canal boats are very long (58') and narrow (6') steel frame boats, like a closed top barge, that are used as holiday boats mostly or as full time liveaboard boats. Another day we visited the above mentioned Spencer Estate but kudos to our host, he did not pay admission to the filthy rich Spencer family but drove around back where free access was provided to the Church and the supposedly real burial site of P.D. Plus a view of the estate could be seen as well. Our hosts were well versed in local knowledge, lore, flora, fauna and pubs so that the little town of Daventry and it's surrounds kept us busy and entertained the whole time we were there, which is pretty good for a place that most people from England haven't heard of (by virtue of the fact that I probably mentioned Daventry to 15 people from England that we met on our travels and only one knew of it). I need to mention in here somewhere that even a small convenience store in England carries more variety of beers than a beer specialty store in the USA. Our hosts were well traveled and we loved their stories. They had been in 1989 to the tribal region of Pakistan and brought back various items to sell to finance their trip. When I mentioned I loved those tribal region hats they said everything they brought back sold but those damned hats and gave us each one. When I travel I hate to add anything to my pack which I try to keep light but that hat went in there no question about it. It is a prize. It aint heavy it's my Pushtan. The last day Joan made a mixed meat gumbo for our hosts and one of the french lads, the last guest remaining. It was, I thought, one of her best gumbos. She hates to cook at other peoples houses but I purposely put her on the spot knowing it would be excellent and it was. It was now monday, time to catch our plane for Prague. Our hosts pulled our chestnuts out of the fire once again with a kindly ride to London-Lutin airport. Next Prague, the Czech Republic.

New York to Ireland - June 23rd

Trip Of June 2009

New York to Ireland - June 23rd

We had booked a flight from NYC to Dublin for June 23^rd and decided to go to New York early to enjoy a few days in the big city before our flight plus to give us sufficient cushion to make our connection. The Greyhound bus seemed like a good idea only because the flights from Nashville were ridiculously expensive. We took the county van service to the station and were soon on our way. The trip was going well, with several short layovers to break up the monotony. Going well, that is, until Cleveland. In Cleveland the bus overbooked by an additional 50 people. Greyhound was not able to obtain another driver so we were stuck there for an additional 8 hours. We finally get to New York nine hours late quite tired. We visited our friend Al in Queens. We forewent the usual sightseeing and spent time dining on New York street fare and shopping for a pair of shoes for Joan to use on the trip. We did go to the Met to see the Francis Bacon exhibit. At first we thought him to be not to our liking but the more we viewed the more we liked his style. The day of our trip we shuttled over to JFK for our Delta flight. We arrive in plenty of time checking in electronically. They offer us a bump promising us an arrival in Dublin just 5 hours later, at 1:30 in the afternoon, plus an upgrade, plus flight credit on another flight, so we took it. Mistake. The upgrade to business class to Madrid certainly was fun, great dining and anything you wanted to drink but when we arrived we found out that our Iberian connection to Dublin wasn't confirmed. To avoid flying standby we opted for the certainty of a connection to Paris then Dublin arriving at 10pm. We filed a complaint with Delta but they are ignoring us. At 10pm in Dublin it is still very bright out. Just 3 days before was the summer solstice. In Dublin we are staying in a flat nearby to downtown, with a view across the river to the Guiness Brewery. We meet Karolina and Kamila two young women from Gdansk, Poland. They are very typical in Dublin. Polish is the third most spoken language in Ireland after English and Chinese, just before Gaelic, the native tongue. Ireland had a huge influx of EU and other immigrants due to it's phenomenal growth prior to the current Crisis. The Irish are suffering particularly hard due to it's high economic rise. It is falling farther and deeper than those who enjoyed more moderate success. The prices are very high in Ireland. This is due to a policy of the government to raise value added tax (VAT) with an aim to struggle harder through the crisis but to emerge healthier, more money in the countries financial institutions, during the recovery. Also, and I'm not sure how this is done but wages are dropped as well. Oddly this severity is begrudgingly accepted with an open mind by most of the Irish as maybe it might be the right thing to do in the long run, but there is usually a cuss word or two added just in case. The next day we view two museums and generally walk around Dublin visiting parks and different areas of town. Joan rediscovers that the Irish make the most excellent pastry. So while she enjoys a sampling of goodies I enjoy a pint or two along the way. The Guiness is not any better fresh than in a pub in Montreal. For the stouts I particularly enjoyed the Beamish, which is originated in Cork, but it doesn't have that long lasting creamy head like a Guiness. Harps was very good as well for a lager, but Tennent, an economy brand was very good in my opinion. In Ireland all the tap beer is served in a special glass made just for that particular brand, and had it's name on it. I thought the Harps glass to be the best. It was more of the same the next day in Dublin. In Ireland almost all the National Museums and Galleries are free, plus many of the private museums whose bequest indicate that they remain free. We discovered that the famous poet Yeats had an equally talented brother, Jack Yeats, whose paintings were wonderful. Joan just loved the illustrations of Harry Clark, an illustrator for Hans Christian Andersen. Also, don't miss the Chester Beatty library if you are ever in the neighborhood. They have the most amazing collection of illuminated old bibles, quarans and chinese scripts. The girls made us some apple potatoe pancakes which leave us thinking more of the polish food ahead when we get to Poland. The next day we leave early in the morning. The Irish bus system is 10 times better than in the USA but pales in comparison to the latin america countries. By the way, gas in Ireland was almost $7.00 a gallon. There is service to most medium size towns but usually 3 or 4 times a day is considered very good coverage. We had to make a difficult decision as to whether to rent a car or not. We finally decided not to. Mastercard has a plan where they pick up the collision waiver if you use their card but they have only three countries that are not included, Jamaica, Angola and Ireland. Plus I was nervous about driving on the left side, and for good cause. As we bussed around or obtained rides I was always confused as to which lane to turn from or onto. Often foreign visitors with a rental would remark about near disasters when first starting out. Who needs it. We allocated about $450, which would have been our rental and estimated gas, for transport. We spent about ¾ of that, some good trade offs some not so good. Oh well. We were on our way to Kenmare, in county Kerry. When we arrive we find where we are staying with some difficulty as it is outside of town. However, our host wasn't home. The door was unlocked so we went in after a while and chose the guest room. We stayed up until we could no longer stay up but finally went to sleep in a house whose occupant we hadn't yet met. That was different and a tad disquieting. At some time between 2 and 3am a head pops through the door, he was as surprised as we were for in the darkness he hadn't seen the note we left on the door. But all was cool and we put off most pleasantries til the morning. Dean was a horticulturalist, a herbalist and to explain his late appearance also a fiddler of traditional Irish music, though he is originally English. He had been to a trad festival in Bosna, a very small town between here and Limerick. He excused himself by saying that he might also be gone this evening for another session or two. He said it is also a very local festival not visited by tourists. We asked if we could tag along. So that evening we drove for almost 2 hours to Bosna. There are five pubs in Bosna and each pub had a 5pm and a 9pm session. They were free and you could roam about until you found the right combination of music, people, chairs and beer. They were also doing set dancing at the edge of town which is also square dancing. It broke up around 1am. That was special. For the remainder of our time in Kenmare we decided to do The Ring of Kerry but tourism was down and the buses couldn't get there numbers up to make a trip so we decided to do The Ring of Bearra, which the locals tell us is considered more beautiful in spots though it is less publicized than The Ring of Kerry. Also, it is about 2/3 the distance which bodes well for how we plan to do it. We take the only public transport which takes us about ¼ of the way and then hitchhike around the ring. It is a seldom used road and we talk a great deal and then say here comes a car. What are we doing? But shortly we get a ride from Jelska a Dutch woman on holiday to the tip of Bearra, I've got to look up the name of the town. The scenery is beautiful and Jelska is a character. After she leaves us, the traffic practically dries up. There is a town about 10 km away. We think we will hitch but continue to walk and getting a room after 6 miles is the option we hold out just in case. Two hours go by, we are still walking. Before one little town some guy takes us just a half a mile but changes our luck for 15 minutes after that a very elderly English gentleman who we believe needed someone to read the map and the road signs picks us up and puts me to work, which is great, as he spins yarns of the old days. Almost back to Kenmare I sense that we are coming in from the opposite side from where we left and luckily I noticed the small barely marked drive that is our local home. Ta daaaa. We get a tour of Deans gardens and green house. There is too little time in this nice location. The next day we leave for Limerick. The bus schedules are spotty and 5 or 6 hours between buses. We bus part of the way and hitch the other. We sense it is safe, but always we think this is the stupidest thing we've ever done but then along comes a great ride and we are enthused again. Now I should pause here to say, all through Ireland the scenery is beautiful, the flowers are outstanding. It is lush, green, very bucolic. Sheep abound in small numbers but often, along with stone houses and the occasional real thatch roof. And the people are remarkably friendly. So friendly it is almost hard to believe. People who give you directions with a bit of personal inquiry and where are you from and what would you be doing going that way and such as that. People who would often walk to the corner, out of their way, to better show you the turn. It was Dear and Darlin' and Love from the women. There are no short answers in Ireland. Joan said she saw herself coming and going and some of her aunts and uncles. She is half Irish. And the other generality is the weather, it is wet, it is damp, it is cool and sometimes cold. This being the end of June and early July. Annnnnnnd... they are having an exceptionally good summer. Rain, it comes up suddenly and often. Often it is just a shower but sometimes it rains torrents. Clean. The country is clean. There is evidence of a massive anti littering campaign. The populace is also very Green, enviromentally wise. They recycle, reuse, reduce. People carry their grocery bags back to the supermarket. Well, enough of the generalities. We arrive in Limerick and find where we are staying, a rented townhouse style apartment. It is occupied by an Irish girl and two hungarians. The hungarians are on holiday. We visit Bunratty Castle which is an old castle, aren't they all. Interesting. Limerick, everyone warns us, is the home of several gangs who are sometimes dangerous. It is the hometown of Frank McCourt, author of Angela's Ashes. We are discouraged to go to see his home because it is still in a bad part of town. While there we do the usual visits to old churches. We go to stores and eat at Donkey Fords, a famous old fashion Fish and Chips store. To Galway we go next but we take a bus to the Cliffs of Moher first. These are beautiful, very scenic high cliffs north of Limerick and west of Galway. We spend a little time there going from one overlook to another. We walk along the coast road, knowing that the tiny town of Dundee had an active hostel just in case. It is just gorgeous. We were out on this breezy coast road with wild flowers everywhere, protective but non aggressive sheep dogs come out to check us out. Huge tour buses blow by us, a real downside. Later someone told us they are a big problem because they clog the roads and only create economic benefit in the bigger city where they originate. A young Californian stops and gives us a ride halfway to Galway passing through The Burren, a big national park of exposed bare rock where the ground should be. We stop at a market to pick up some things for a quick lunch. We ready ourselves for another long leg when the first car by picks us up and takes us to our next lodging. It turned out he and his son had been at that trad festival in Bosna, so that is what we talked about mostly. In Galway we stay at a large townhouse but it is shared (most places we ran into were shared) and we are staying mostly in the bedroom when we are at home. We had use of the kitchen. Our host was a young personable Czech who worked at a nearby Marriot. We took a tour of the Connemara and the Cong. We usually don't take organized tours but it was easy to figure this was an area we would not see well any other way. Our host decided to join us. It was gorgeous. We couldn't have seen this section any better if we had our own rental car. The bus driver/guide was very good except for his sappy overdone jokes. There is always a price to pay. That night we go to downtown Galway in the hopes to find some trad music but find mostly RockNRoll and a very party town. Shop Street as it is called has a feel like Bourbon Street in New Orleans. It's been a long day, I have a pint, we go home. Westport, county Mayo is next. It is close by and we arrive early to see most of the downtown, a very neat and tidy well done market area with several main streets all busy. Our cottage is 10km out of town down several country lanes. We walk out of town and hail a ride. The driver, so curious as to why he doesn't know exactly where we are going, decides to take us all the way there. The cottage is charming, supposedly haunted, relaxing, with a beautiful front garden kept in an orderly overgrown way. This couple is English, new age, with a varied and interesting past, living between here and Spain in the winter. From here we take a trip to the Cong from the otherside, to a town that is the location of the well known movie, The Field, Richard Harris, Tom Beringer. Beautiful again and again. The next day it is pouring buckets mostly. We stay home, read, talk with our hosts, surf the net. I chance a run to town. I was forced at one point quite against my will to seek shelter from the rain in a pub and drink a couple of pints of Guiness. We have two more nights in Dublin before our flight to England and bus there right through the middle of Ireland, probably the plainest scenery in the country but still decent. In Dublin we arrive at 3:30pm. We will stay with a young Italian professional doing an internship in Ireland. Before checking in with him, trying to salvage some part of this day, we stop in at Trinity College and talk our way into the conservation work area of the library to meet our first Dublin host, Karolina. She works in conservation in the library and we got our own private tour of the Book of Kells and some very old books they were working on like from the 1500's. It was real cool and special. We are now in an apartment 5 minutes from The Spire in a so so part of town. The apartment is modern though and our hosts are the most curious of all asking dozens of questions. Ireland and most of Europe likes Obama, they have high hopes for him. The next day our last full day in Ireland we see a couple more museums. One contained the Francis Bacon studio and some of his works, so it was a nice tie in with what we saw in New York City before we left. More pastry, more beer, talking together at how pleasantly surprised we both were with Ireland and how we would love to come back again and spend more time. We cooked a big meal with our hosts and stayed up late drinking Tennent beer. The next day we leave on Aer Lingus for London, Gatwick airport.

PS. If anyone knows how to get Delta to make good on their mess up please let me know.