After dithering back and forth while not sleeping I decided to resume blogging. This isn't for my vast audience of three or four but to ensure a more permanent memory of our Irish holiday. Without a written history Mike and I will conjure up different memories or worst yet no recollection of a place or event.
Our first twenty four hours was a tedious journey from Portland to Seattle to Amsterdam to Dublin. Having enjoyed eight flights so far this year with TSA pre-approved status we found ourselves back in the land of removing shoes, belts, wallets, liquids, and laptops. Glad to be back on the ground we went to pick up our rental car. I know when I am in Ireland. Renting a car took a very long time while the agent and Mike exchanged life stories and multiple laughs.
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| Howth Harbor |
For the first night our reservation was a B&B in Howth, a lovely mixture of tourist spot and fishing village. It could be described as a less tacky Seaside. There are the Ferris wheel and carnival rides but they are gathered in a large open air, manicured spot between the road and the harbor. Hundreds of pleasure sailboats are lined in perfect rows with masts that resemble parallel lines of large white pickup sticks. The shops and restaurants line the opposite side of the road painted in a variety of intense colors. On a side road closer to the sea are the warehouses and equipment of the commercial fisherman. We ate our fresh fish dinner on a picnic table with an offer of blankets to cut the chill of a strong ocean wind. A twenty five minute walk back up the hill ended our day that began on Thursday morning in Portland and ended here on Friday night. Exploring our room we found that it featured a vast stack of towels, all of them almost threadbare, no two matching, and of a style that resembled the fifties. We also had a wardrobe but not a single hanger in it to make it remotely usable!
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