Europe 2019 : Day 16 A Short Hop to Edinburgh

Saturday 24th August

We had an early flight to Edinburgh in the morning so it was up at 5:30 to leave by 6:30 for a car drop off at the airport at 7am. All went pretty well and we there in good time. The airline didn't seem to have any trouble with the bags being a kilo or two overweight so we were good to go.

The original intention has been to fly direct from Belfast to Reykjavik on the Saturday in order to spend an extra day in Iceland before our tour started, but we couldn't find any direct flights that day. That left us with an EasyJet flight to Edinburgh and then a WOW Airlines flight to Reykjavik after a few hours lay-over. All went as expected with the booking, until we received an email a few months later informing us that WOW had gone into receivership and that our flight from Edinburgh no longer existed. First time that had ever happened to us.

We decided pretty quickly that our best bet was to stay the night in Edinburgh and then move on to Iceland on the Sunday. That had two bonuses, we got a chance to have a look around Edinburgh for the first time since 1987, and we might also get to meet up with some old friends who now lived there. Flights booked, dinner arranged and all seemed well.

Then, about three weeks before we were due to take off on the first leg of this jaunt, I was looking through the documentation for the various parts of our holiday and couldn't seem to find anything about our flight from Belfast to Edinburgh, except for the original booking. So I checked with the online booking agency I had used. No, no flight. When the second leg of the flight had been cancelled the whole booking went as well. A quick check for the Saturday in question found the original flight still available. And I think it was cheaper.

We had another early morning flight to Iceland on the Sunday so had picked an airport hotel for our Saturday night stay. But it was Edinburgh Festival time, a Bank Holiday weekend in the UK, and the Saturday night to boot. It wasn't cheap.

Nor, as we found out when we arrived the next morning, exactly across the street from the airport. Five hundred meters of dragging the suitcases later we had deposited our bags with the intention of checking in when we got back later that evening.

Edinburgh streets

Edinburgh was a jumping place that day. Apart from the Festival there was an international Rugby Union Test Match being played in the city between Scotland and France. And the centre of the city was heaving with people. The footpaths were packed and buses were causing traffic jams in the narrow streets..

J. K. Rowling's cafe

First stop was the Elephant House where J. K. Rowling had written the first of the Harry Potter novels. It wasn't a major point of interest for me though Rob wanted to see it, probably to make our daughter Catherine jealous. After that we just wandered around, not really heading anywhere in particular until I stopped outside a whisky store. The offerings in the window looked interesting so I thought I'd take a photo of it and send it to Julian. And just as I taking the photo my phone pinged and there was a text message from the same Julian asking us where we were. Seems he had been tracking us by my posts on Facebook and as he and Lucy were also in the city we arranged to meet up.

The Whisky Shop

Karaoke flash crowds

A few drinks later we took our leave and headed off in the direction of The “Oxford” Bar – the bar that features in the Ian Rankin John Rebus novels. It was a rather long walk and the bar was rather smaller than I had thought. Really small.

Robyn outside the Oxford

We couldn't hang around long as Robyn had booked us in on walking tours: me on a whisky tour, which was okay; and her on an Underground Edinburgh tour which she said was great. And then it was dinner and a few more bevvies with Malcolm and Morag. I'd worked with Malcom in Melbourne back in 1989, just before we left to go live in London. He had also decided to work in London and arrived there a month before us. He later shared our Maida Vale flat for a few months before he hooked with Morag and later moved to Edinburgh in around 1995. They have been there ever since and have no intention of moving anywhere.

Morag, Malcolm, Perry and Robyn

It had been a very long day by the time we got back to the hotel around 10:30. And it was to be another early morning flight the next day, and more tense times.

Europe 2019 : Day 15 Murals and Cousins

Friday 23rd August

Our last full day in Belfast and surrounds started slowly with a walk around the main centre of Belfast. We dropped in to the Town Hall, picked up a souvenir for a friend and some sandwiches for later in the day. While I was sitting on a park bench checking through some photos I was approached by a man leading a walking group. He introduced himself as a street photographer, had seen me sitting there and thought I might make for an interesting photo. It put it down to the hat.

Belfast Town Hall

That walk was followed by a drive around the inner suburbs of Belfast. In the years just after the first World War, Rob's great-aunt spent some time in Europe, including in Belfast, visiting various Roman Catholic Cathedrals and writing about what she discovered for a Melbourne Catholic newspaper. Those articles are available through the wonderful work done by the National Library of Australia's Trove project. So Rob was interested in seeing some of the same places, take a few photos and then compare what she saw with the published articles when we get back home.

Bobby Sands

When we got to the Cathedral, however, a funeral was in place so we decided to park the car nearby off the Falls Road and to have a wander around the streets. We found a batch on a wall all featuring Victorian Trades Unions, and, of course, the big Bobby Sands mural on the side of the Sinn Fein building.

By the time we'd seen all we wanted the funeral was out and the coffin was being carried up the street from the Cathedral and then down the Falls Road. The pall bearers were changing over every 25 metres or so. I'm not sure if any tool on second shifts but I presume they did.

A quick wander round the cathedral – nothing of great interest there – and it was time to be off out into the country-side towards Dromara to see some third-cousins of Robyn's – both called Mary.

Arthur Doyle's headstone

They took us for a drive around the community looking at gravestones, then to local cafe for a coffee, and then back to another cemetery where Robyn found the headstone of Arthur Doyle, another of her great-great-grandfathers, and the father of Patrick Doyle who we had tracked down at Queen's University two days before.

The afternoon passed very quickly and then it was a rush back into Belfast for dinner with Renee and Henry who were in town for the European Science Fiction Convention. We'd seen them only in passing in Dublin the week before so it was good to catch up over a few beers and a meal.

Exhausted again.

Europe 2019 : Day 14 The Drive North

Thursday 22nd August

We had booked a rental car for our last two days in Belfast in order for us to visit some third-cousins of Robyn's and to have a bit of a drive around the Northern Ireland countryside.

We had arranged with Rose the night before to pick her up early, well early-ish, So after a fair cab ride to the car rental joint we got to her hotel a bit before 9.

Some discussion ensued – reading this you should take it as being a euphemism for a few arguments – which resulted in us deciding to take the Coastal Causeway Route north from Belfast. Our major destination was the Giant's Causeway, but we wanted to wend our way along the coast and see some of the sites. I'm glad we did.

Carrickfergus Castle

A brief stop in Carrickfergus and then further along the coast to various Games of Thrones televisions filing sites saw some wonderful coastline. The road hugs the coast in places, wangling around the bays, and passing through small villages. It was a relaxing drive after the hectic week or so we had had since the start of the Worldcon in Dublin a week before. It had all been good stuff but sometimes you just want to slow down a bit and take it easier. The weather was good, so far, and all things boded well for the day.

Rose contemplates jumping while Robyn walks away

By lunch time we were in Ballycastle were we found a small cafe by the harbour. The cod fish and chips were good and we could see parts of the coastline of Scotland away over the water – probably not Islay, but more likely Campbelltown.

The rocks from a distance

The rocks closer

The weather started to close in a bit as we approached the Giant's Causeway but we weren't going to let that deter us. The car park was full. Never mind we passed another one a few hundred metres back, so we braved that one, got a spot, and walked along the cliffs down to the visitors' centre.

Vistors' centre

You can always tell when a tourist site is doing well: the visitors' centre is normally huge and packed with people. This one fitted the bill. Luckily enough we had arrived in time for a guided tour down to the rocks so we joined the group and headed down the 15 minute walk.

We scrambled over the rocks for 10 or 15 minutes with all us going in different directions, but generally seeing mostly the same stuff, if from different angles. It was great day, at least until the drizzle started to threaten to become something rather heavier. A ride back on the tourist bus to the centre and we were shortly on our way to the Dark Hedges.

The Dark Hedges

The rain had really started to sheet in by this time so we only had a chance for a brief look down the laneway cutting through entangled trees before jumping into the car and heading back to Belfast.

Pizza for dinner from the spot under our apartment, and then a collapse into bed. A very relaxing day.

Europe 2019 : Day 13 Hopping On and Hopping Off

Wednesday 21st August

This was a day for general sight-seeing around Belfast, via the Hop-On-Hop-Off bus that we've used in other cities. Robyn had some definite plans for what she wanted to do – when does she not? – which included a visit to Queen's University and the Crumlin Road jail. But the biggest, or maybe longest period, we aimed to spend at any one place during the day was at the Titanic Museum. So we hit that one first.

Titanic Museum

 In some ways this exhibition reminded me of the Vasa in Stockholm that Robyn and I saw in 2017. The major difference being, of course, that this one didn't have the main object of interest, namely the ship, taking up the bulk of the space. But it certainly shows what you can do with some thought, some money and some inspiration. You get taken through the building process, the impact the shipbuilding industry had on Belfast in the early twentieth century, the fit-out, the launch, the journey, and naturally, the end. Getting in early was a good choice. You could see that it was extremely popular and would be packed in summer by lunch-time.

Queen's University main building

A couple of hours there and it was off to Queen's. One of Robyn's great-grandfathers, on her mother's side, Patrick Doyle, had studied medicine there in the 1860s and 1870s before signing on as ship's surgeon for a trip to New Zealand, returning to Belfast and then deciding on immigrating to New Zealand permanently. We hadn't expected very much for the visit, a few photos, a bit of a walk around and we would have been happy. As we were walking out through the main building I happened to spot a sign pointing upstairs to the University alumni office. “Might as well give it a try,” I said. We had a very informative chat to the staff and were shown a book listing the students in the university from 1840 to about 1910. And Patrick Doyle was there, across all the years as an undergraduate that we expected to see him attend. Though we didn't find him listed as graduating, which we found a little odd. The office said they would check with other parts of the university to see if there were any other Patrick Doyle records available. We didn't hold any a lot of hope for this especially as we had been pleasantly surprised by the information we had already received.

It was raining by the time we got outside to catch the bus again. The first one went past and did';t stop as it was full. Seems that people get on the buses and then stay on them if it rains, which made a bit of sense. The next one had a few seats available so we jumped on and one stop later ran into Rose Mitchell again. She had started later than us and did not seem to be having a happy time of it. She'd been stuck in the rain while 3 buses went past and the day was turning into a bit of a disaster for her. The thought of the Crumlin Road jail seemed too depressing for her so we got off and left her to continue on with the arrangement to meet up for a beer and dinner later.

Crumlin Road jail yard 

The jail was, well, as expected. A bit depressing, but a important piece of the Belfast historical puzzle. Neither Robyn nor I were interested in the hanging cell so we stayed back from that part of the tour. Our tour guide used to live in the area as a child and had first visited the jail as an eight-year-old when he was part of a church choir. He was allowed in to sing Christmas carols one year and could clearly remember what the building was like in the 1960s which added a lot to the background.

It was too wet to go for a walk around the Falls Road for a look at the murals so we just jumped back on the bus and headed back the apartment for a bit of a rest. Shortly after that we met with Rose to visit White's (the oldest pub in Belfast, supposedly), and the Duke of York, a small pub in a small laneway, before dinner.

With plans made for the next day we headed home.

Europe 2019 : Day 12 North to Belfast

Tuesday 20^th August

It's my birthday, number 64, thereby hitting a famous Beatles song. Two years ago on this day I was travelling between Riga and Vilnius. This time it was between Dublin and Belfast. Not quite as exotic but still a long way from home.

Justin was up and gone before the rest of us were up, heading off to England somewhere to catch up with relatives. Rose, Robyn and I were due to catch the train from the Dublin Connolly Station. So, up early, packed, a stroll around to a local hotel, some drama about getting a cab but we made it with time to spare.

A number of other fans were also making the trip up to Belfast, heading to another convention there, but it seemed that most were taking a bus rather than the train. Northern Ireland railways were doing maintenance on the track so we had to change at Newry. This really wasn't that big a deal and even the final hour on the bus was pretty good.

Robyn and I couldn't get into our AirBnB house until 3pm so we wended our way into the city on the Glider Bus, left our suitcases at the Tourist Info office and then walked over to get Rose checked in.

After that it was a few beers and lunch in the Crown Saloon and then it was time to check in, or get into the house, or whatever the AirBnB expression is.

Having a drink in the Crown

Crown Saloon entrance tiling

Finding the street was okay, but couldn't find the named apartments anywhere. We had an apartment number, a name of the apartments and a street name. I called the owner, who were very helpful: “Walk past the entrance to Pizza Express.” Couldn't find that. “Turn left off Talbot Street.” Okay. “Walk down about 100 metres.” Okay. “Pizza Express is on your right.” Okay. “Walk apast the entrance.” Okay. Wait, along the street or into the square? “Into the square, and the apartment are in the corner on your left, next to Salt.” Okay, found them. “I can open the door for you if you like.” No, I need to get back to my wife and the luggage. Wander back, get Rob, drag the suitcases to the door of the apartment block, and check the instructions: I needed to text a four-digit number to a certain phone number ans this would magically open the main door. Well it would have if I could get the number to be delivered as a text. After trying all variations of the phone number I rang back. That got the door open. Surely we were home now.

Nope. Up the lift to the fourth floor to try to find the combination lock box which would contain the key. I expected it to be somewhere on the wall but there it was, attached to the door nearly on the floor. Don't get me started on modern designers who think that black, or even worse, dark silver, numbers on a silver background work for anyone. I couldn't see the combination numbers from a kneeling position so ended up lying on the floor so my eyes could be at the right level. Two or three tries later and the key was obtained, the door opened and we were in.

Lock box at ground level

The plans for the evening were to meet up with Rose for a few beers in a few pubs and then have dinner. But we were too tired. A few texts back and forth determined we all felt that way.

View from apartment window - St Anne's Cathedral

I've got to slow down.

Europe 2019 : Day 11 The Slow Goodbye

Monday 19^th August

The last day of the convention started slowly, for me at least. Julian and Lucy were due to fly out early afternoon so headed off in the morning for a last look around. The others wandered off to do their thing and left me to my washing and part packing.

After lunch it was in to the convention where I dropped off some left-over beers to a bid table, and had some long, liquid discussions with Mark Linneman. I only get to see Mark every second year or so. He's lived back in the USA since the early to mid 90s after having been in Melbourne for about 10 years. He worked with me on the 1999 and 2010 Worldcons and I've always found him to be amusing and entertaining company.

I wasn't aiming to go anywhere too far this afternoon as I had to hang around for the Former Worldcon Chairs Party that evening – generally an event not to be missed.

Dinner gang (L to R): me, Justin Ackroyd, Tony Berry, Eve Harvey, John Harvey, Rose Kitchell, Simon Litten, Robyn

Chats with Tom Becker and Joe Siclari, beers with Eve and John Harvey, and then Tony Berry. Dinner was had and the party arrived at. The main order of business is usually the bestowal of a “Past Worldcon Chair” ribbon on that year's Chair. It took a while but we got there in the end.

Robyn, Rose and I were heading off to Belfast on the train the next morning so we made our final excuses and headed home.

Last days at any convention are tough. You rush around trying to catch up with all those friends you've missed over the previous four days and then you have to say goodbye to them, “see you in Wellington.”

I do love going to Worldcons, but the last day is hard.

Europe 2019 : Day 10 History and the Future

Sunday 18^th August

Only two major items I needed to pay attention to this day: the former Worldcon Chairs' photo at 10:30 and then the Dublin Literary Walking Tour at 11:30.

Up really early due to a car or house alarm in the street that started at 4am and then continued on and off until Rose and I headed off to the convention centre at 9:15. Oddly enough no-one else in the house heard it until I would stop them and ask them to listen, “Oh, yeah” was the response. This may indicate my hearing is good or my mental state is agitated. Maybe both.

The photo shoot is always preceded by the announcement of the Site Selection ballot, this year for 2021. The winner, as predicted, was Washington DC. I'm not sure if I'll be at that Worldcon: weve got a lot of travel coming up and Robyn isn't keen on visiting the USA while a certain person is in power. Decision to be made later.

Generally speaking attempting to get a bunch of old Worldcon Chairs all into one place at the one time is like herding cats. But it worked. Rose and I got through it all by 11 and we then headed off to the Dublin Literary Walking Tour that Robyn had arranged for us. (Photo link.)

Joined by Nick Price, ex-Melbourne friend now living back in England, Rose, Robyn, Julian Lucy and I spent the next two hours wandering around the streets of Dublin, stopping off at various points to be informed about things literary by our guide Sean. Oscar Wilde, James Joyce, Sally Rooney, Samuel Beckett and others were covered. We visited Sweny's, the pharmacy featured in Joyce's Ulysses, and were serenaded by Joyce volunteer in the store. We passed pubs and parks and the commentary took on a very political slant, which was only to be expected. Literature and politics are intimate bedfellows in Ireland and trying to discuss one without the other is rather a waste of time.

The divine Oscar reclines

Wilde quote

Sean declaims

By the end of the tour we were well-informed, tired, hungry and thirsty, so we retired to a pub and had one of the best Sunday pub roasts I've ever had. We finished mid-afternoon and it was one of our best days in Dublin.

Rose and I wandered back to the convention to catch up with a few people again, Robyn and Lucy went off to the Chester Beatty library and others went elsewhere.

Sunday night was Hugo Awards night but I don't usually go so it was home for a pick-up dinner of leftover party food and some salads Julian and I picked up in a local supermarket.

We tuned in to the webcast of the awards, agreed with some and disagreed with other, as you do, and then I was off to bed. Some of the others went off to George RR Martin's Hugo Losers' party at the Guinness showroom while I retired for the night, replete but very tired.

Europe 2019 : Week 1 – Digest Version

Day 1 & 2 Friday 9^th and Saturday 10^th August

Thirty hours door to door – 2 flights, and 1 drive. Spent the night in Naas about 45 minutes outside Dublin.

Day 3 Sunday 11^th August

Family history day for Robyn – driving down to Carlow, Kilkenny, Thomastown, Ballylooby and ended up in a country B&B on the outskirts of Marcroom.

Day 4 Monday 12^th August

Family history day for Robyn – driving around Macroom, Inchigeelagh, Kilmichael, Michael Collins memorial, Cooldorragha and on to a small boutique hotel in the town of Abbeyfeale.

Day 5 Tuesday 13^th August

Family history day for Robyn – from Abbeyfeale to the Cliffs of Moher amid loads of buses and other tourists. Then to Ennis, and a couple of hours in the Genealogical Centre. The day finished with Robyn finding the gravestone of her great-great-grandfather. Overnight in a country B&B again.

Day 6 Wednesday 14^th August

Family history day for Robyn – Corrifin for the Heritage Centre where we overstayed our time and had to extend the car for an extra day. Lots of good material for Robyn to work on. Then into Dublin, drop the bags off at the share house, park the car and then a party in the evening.

Day 7 Thursday 15^th August

Drop the car off after a hectic hunt for the lost car keys, first day of the convention for me. Lunch with the Harveys. Robyn wandered around town and then we all caught up for a Literary Pub Walking Tour.

Europe 2019 : Day 8 and 9 Convention Stuff

Friday 16^th and Saturday 17^th August

After the hectic tension of Thursday, Friday and Saturday settled down into a series of meetings with old friends, small chats a few beers (trying to spread them out as best I can) and wanderings around.

I wandered along to Bill Burns's efanzines panel on Friday – must check that site out more when I get home – and then to the Fan Fund auction on the Saturday. Major highlight of the auction was the 400 Euros paid for an original manuscript, with markups and corrections, by Irish sf writer James White. Not by me, I bought nothing.

There are a number of books in the Dealers Room which might be nice to own but I have to either: a) lug them around for three weeks; or b) ship them home. Neither appeals, so the money stays in the pocket for more food and beer.

I did have a great conversation with Kent Bloom which resulted in me finally finding a home for a Hugo Award that has been hanging around my house since 1999. That will be fixed up when I get back as well.

Not a lot to report: the convention closed its membership before the con started, so there were no sales at the door, not even day passes; you have to queue for everything, even the panels where there are only about 20 in the audience and you recognise all bar one or two; the art show is about 10 minutes walk away, or one tram stop; and Martin's bar is excellent, although it could do with some more chairs.

People seem to be having a good time, and you can't ask for more than that.

Oh, and the other half? She's been out on walking tours all over Dublin: Friday, all over the place on the Hop On Hop Off bus; and Saturday, an Irish Food tour with Rose and Lucy in the morning and then a Dublin History tour in the afternoon. I see her at breakfast and from late afternoon. She really likes Dublin, which is unexpected as she had exactly the opposite view of the place when we were here in 1994.

Dinner with the crew

Onward.

Europe 2019 : Day 7 Agitation and Registration

Thursday 15^th August

The day started badly. Woke up with a raging hangover, worst I'd had in years. Given the amount of socialising (cough, drinking) I had in front of me for the next five or so days, this was not a good way to start at all.

Luckily I didn't have anything pressing at the convention on the first day. My main order of business was getting the car back to the rental depot.

Justin was gone before I even got up, and the others gradually left over the next few hours as I attempted to fortify myself with coffee and get some toast down. By the time I was ready to face the day at 10am Lucy was the only one left. I gathered all of my stuff together, including a water bottle that I was sure I would need, and then went looking for the car keys. Having little memory of what I had done the night before I assumed that I had put them in a safe place. All well and good. Trouble is I couldn't find it.

Lucy left and I turned the house over, opened all the drawers and checked under the bed. Nothing. By the time I had given up the chase and left the house I was resigned to making a serious dent in my credit card. I reckon over the past 30 years I have hired cars interstate and overseas about 60 times and I had never previously lost the keys. I left them on a park bench in Queensland once, realised 10 minutes later and went back and found them exactly where I'd left them. And in Adelaide the electronic key came apart in my hand one day, which necessitated a lot of stuffing about for most of an afternoon, but never an actual key loss.

I still felt way less that 100% when I set off to the car park; I had a faint hope that I might just have left the keys in the car. After wandering around a bit searching for the actual building where the park was located I got to the car to find it locked, which meant I had used the keys to lock it and had then walked away.

Things weren't looking good.

Twenty-five minutes walk  and copious swearing later I was stopped at a set of traffic lights about 100 metres from the car rental drop-off point, when the vague notion of checking my day-pack again came to me. I was certain I had already checked it. Surely I had done that. Even though I had dropped it off with Robyn the first time past the house the previous evening, surely I hadn't put the keys into there when I'd made it to the house the previous evening.

And yes, as suspected I had. The keys were exactly where they should have been all along. More swearing, but this time with a great deal of relief.

So another hike back to the car, a drive over to the depot and the car was dropped off. And in answer to the question of how much it might have cost me if I had really lost the keys, the answer came back as: “A lot”. Disaster averted.

Convention Centre main entrance

A ten-minute walk later I was at the Dublin Convention Centre and registered. A quick look around the dealers' room and a call to the Harveys got me to the Gibson Hotel down the river from the convention centre. A few chips and a few beers later and I started to feel vaguely human again.

I took a wander around the convention, spoke to a few old friends, checked in with some of the other Australians floating around and dropped into Martin's, the main convention bar for a few quiet ones.

Martin's Bar

Dinner was a rushed affair with Rose, Lucy and Julian before we caught up with Robyn for the night's Literary Pub Walking Tour. Starting at Duke's we meandered around the edges of Trinity College, dropping into a series of four or five pubs. Our tour guides were two Irish actors who interspersed the pub stops with talks on various Irish authors – Joyce, Wilde, O'Brian, and Beckett among others – including excerpts from their works. We had a pretty good time though a smaller group might have helped speed the walk up a bit.

A tour guide declaims, while Lucy listens

O'Neill's

Julian waits

And then to bed.

Europe 2019 : Day 6 Dublin Bound

Wednesday 14^th August

Our last day with the car, according to the plan anyway. Back in Corofin, where we'd had dinner in the pub the night before, to go to the County Clare Heritage office for the final Irish family history fling – for me at least. We got there at 10am thinking we'd be there only about 30 minutes, and finally left about 2 hours later. Lots of fascinating stuff for Robyn to work over and we also came out a few Euros short as Robyn decided to get them to do some follow-up research. It won't be cheap but promises to fill in a lot of areas that Robyn would struggle to complete.

About a year ago Robyn had booked an AirBnB house for us and four others so our aim was to get into Dublin early afternoon, to stop at a supermarket for supplies, drop off the bags at the house and for me to then return the car to the rental depot. All by 3pm.

I'd misread the amount of time it would take for us to get the car back into Dublin. So about an hour into the return journey we stopped for fuel, food and to make a call extending the rental by a day. All fixed we set off back down the motorway, arguing about supermarkets on the way.

That was all good, and then it turned a tad sour. I dropped Robyn off and went looking for a car park. The streets here in Dublin are all pay-and-display types with a maximum stay of 3 hours and required tickets from 7am to midnight. After about 45 minutes of messing about I decided to pull over, figure out where the drop-off point was and just hand the car back in early. No, that wasn't going to work as the place I needed to get to was 18 minutes drive away and it only 10 minutes before their closing time. Seething, swearing and being generally unhappy I turned the next corner and found a multi-level car park. After that it was just a quiet 15 minutes walk back to the house. Mind you, I was still seething and swearing under my breath all the way.

No 42, share house

The house in the terrace

We had arranged for people to drop over to our house for a first-night party, which meant we had people from Australia, various parts of the US, Canada and New Zealand in attendance. A good night was had by all.

A few people couldn't make it so I think I ended up drinking my share and theirs as well. This did not augur well.

Europe 2019 : Day 5 Cliffs and Cemeteries

Tuesday 13^th August

Robyn and I (and a 18 month old Catherine) had driven around Ireland in 1994, so we'd seen most of the touristy high spots. As a consequence we were a bit over Irish castles and cathedrals and museums. Happy to wander along if something looked interesting but our main aim for these few days touring was for Robyn to do her family history research and for us to get a good look at the countryside.

Each evening we normally agree on the next day's activities, so a quick look at the map on the Monday evening showed us travelling a short distance from Abbeyfeale to Ennis and surrounds. It also showed us that if we traveled a bit further over to the coast we would get a chance to have a look at the Cliffs of Moher, which featured in the film of “The Princess Bride” back in the 1980s. Neither Robyn nor I could remember if we'd visited 25 years previously, so we felt this little bit of touristy stuff would be okay.

The cliffs

Try landscape mode!

The place was very crowded with more and more buses rolling in the whole time we were there. Major problem: too many people taking selfies with the cliffs in the background. One bloke asked me to take one for him. I did so, he checked it and then asked me to zoom in on his face more. I told him the cliffs would be out of focus but he frankly didn't seem to care. <rant>I have no idea why people do this sort of thing. It's as if they can't be sure they were ever at a place unless their face appears in every photo of every monument or building.</rant>

Car and bus parks

After that mild touch of tourism it was back into the family history run with a drive back over to Ennis The Genealogy centre in the town was extremely helpful and we spent a good two hours there looking over parish records, survey maps and the like getting some idea of the areas we wanted to have a look at.

Most of Robyn's ancestors lived around the small towns of Ruan and Templemaley, some 8 or so kilometres outside Ennis. We were looking for certain surnames and while we found them in the Ruan cemetery they were all of the wrong period. Possibly very distant cousins though not in the direct line of enquiry.

After Ruan we decided to head towards our accommodation for the night, but as the phone network seemed to be acting up we had to head back to the bigger town of Ennis to get our bearings and hopefully some mobile coverage so Google maps could kick in. On the way back we spotted the sign to Templemaley and headed off down that road. A kilometre down we passed a cemetery but kept going as we thought we might find something in the township. Actually, we couldn't even find the township. I think the sign pointed to an area rather than an actual hamlet so we turned back to the cemetery and wandered around.

And then, in one of those happy coincidences that never cease to surprise, after 5 minutes Robyn called out that she'd found something. I wandered over and found her standing in front of the gravestone of her great-great-grandfather Cornelius Cullinan. He had died in 1913 and the stone had obviously been placed there sometime later. The inscription said it had been erected by “his loving wife and children” but the wife wasn't then mentioned as being one of the others in the plot. So I guess she was “loving” when the stone went in and then changed her mind later.

After that it was a zig-zagging drive to the B&B, then a similar drive to the local pub for dinner and back. A very successful day.

Europe 2019 : Day 4 Discovering Cooldorragha

Monday 12^th August

Cannaway House, where we stayed overnight, was a fine place. A tad isolated but not too bad. The owners had bought it about 12 years ago when it was a derelict and had done it up very nicely. We were checking out when we had one of those awkward conversations that pop up from time to time, and which you really seem not to be able to avoid. We were talking to the owner as we were heading out, saying how much we liked it, when she told us about the purchase and renovation.

Cannaway House

Either Robyn or I muttered something about it being a possible wedding venue and received the reply that she, the owner, had been married here. “Hope you went on a honeymoon somewhere else”, I joked. “No,” she said. “My father died on the wedding night.” Which put a bit of a dampener on things. It seems he'd really enjoyed the wedding – there were framed photos up on the mantels – went and sat down I an armchair, had a whisky and a cigar. And when someone went to check on him an hour or so later he'd gone.

You try to be both sympathetic and thoughtful but you're uncomfortable whatever you say, so we said out goodbyes and headed off to Macroom, hoping this didn't affect our whole day.

Luckily it didn't.

Macroom castle facade

We stopped in Macroom for a bit of a wander around, checked out the Tourist Office, took a few photos of the castle facade and a nearby river and bridge. (Later that night I found out that someone I knew from New Zealand, Simon Litten, passed over the bridge as we were standing on it taking photos. An odd coincidence.) 

Macroom castle ruin and mural

It was a nice little town but we were on another family history excursion for Robyn that day so we didn't linger but headed off to Inchigeelagh, about 15km away.

Robyn's Riordon ancestors on her father's side originated around here. Some from this small town and others from a place called Cooldorragha. We'd asked about this small place in Macroom but no-one could identify it for us, and none of Google or the printed maps made any reference to it.

And yet, when we stopped in Inchigeelagh for a look around, we found a map in the street with Cooldorragha marked as being just outside Kilmichael, another 10 km down the road. 

A brief wander around the small village of Inchigeelagh, including a wander through an old derelict church and adjacent graveyard gave us no further clues about anything, so we headed off to our next destination, the even smaller town of Kilmichael.

Cemetery instructions

The day was excellent, the temperature mild and the roads of the twisty-windy type so prevalent in rural Ireland. It was great just pottering along these tiny roads with their overhanging trees and hedgerows right up to the road verge. Classic holiday touring. Scary as all hell.

We made it to Kilmichael which consisted of one house and a pub. Well, one house we could see. There were probably a whole lot more down the side roads behind the trees, but they weren't much evident. A small sign pointed up a hill to a church so we decided that as it would be a Catholic church it would be on the highest point around so we headed up the road, found the church, looked around and headed back down. Didn't seem to be too much about the place and we couldn't find any signs pointing to or mentioning Cooldorragha.

Deciding that it was better to just move on rather than waste any more time we headed off down the road about 5 km to the site of the Michael Collins Ambush. This occurred on 22 August 1922 and resulted in the death of Collins, the Chairman of the Provisional Government of the Irish Free State at the time. The site has a monument and a few signs indicating what happened that August night. Oddly enough about 15 kilometres away is the actual Michael Collins Monument – no idea why it is there rather than at the true ambush site.

Ambush monument

Ambush scene

While we were there and Robyn was wandering around I had another look at the Inchigeelagh map I'd photographed and realised that the road out of Kilmichael up to the church at the top of the hill was probably where Cooldorragha was located. So it was back to Kilmichael, and back up the hill to the spot that corresponded to the map.

This may well seem like a lot of messing about but we weren't in a rush to get anywhere, and it was better that we made sure rather than just driving off and never really knowing. I'm not sure we could say, hand on heart, that we had found the right place. But it was near enough for us.

By this stage Robyn was in desperate need of relief so I decided to take one for the team and have a half pint of Guinness in the local so she could use the facilities. Naturally our accent caused some comment – the publican had daughter living in Perth – and then Robyn got into a discussion of where the Riordons lived in the area. Well, that was fun. Got directions that consisted of where a certain person's house was and which turns to take delivered in an accent that was a little difficult to follow. We did actually attempt it, though I'm not sure why.

Kilmichael pub

After that it was back through Macroom, on to Kilkarney, and then to Abbeyfeale where we had booked a room in a small country hotel.

It had been a great day, excellent weather and unexpected discoveries. The stuff of a good holiday.

Later that night Robyn was to say that she'd had one of the best holiday days ever. She'd seen the family bogs, and had found stuff she hadn't expected to find. She couldn't ask for more than that.

Europe 2019 : Day 3 Heading South

Sunday 11^th August

The hotel we were staying in overnight had undergone some fairly extensive renovations and extensions over the past twenty years, though I think little thought was given to how guests would actually get to their rooms.

Ours was up a flight of stairs (or one level in the lift) from Reception, 50 metres down a long corridor, round two corners to another lift, down two levels and then another 30 metres down another long corridor. It was a real warren of a place. Luckily enough as we were heading back to our car on the previous night we had noticed the sign to the “Leisure Centre and Day Spa”. A quick check out the door indicated a car park we hadn't previously seen. A wander around the side of the hotel and we found the car about 40 metres away. A quick change of car location and the bags came in the back door, thereby saving me much effort and a lot of swearing.

Sleep the first night came in fits and starts as we knew it would. So the morning found us feeling okay but still not quite fully there. My eyes still seemed rather dry, though better than the night before, and the muscular aches and pains were more pronounced, as expected. We just needed to get up and get moving, have a good breakfast and drink a lot of coffee.

I indulged in the full Irish breakfast and a jug of the black non-alcoholic stuff while we plotted the day's drive to various spots. Then it was down to business as I set up the European SIM card for the phone, and got onto the internet to pay the road toll from the previous day. Just boring household stuff you have to do while on holiday.

The main reason we had decided to drive around the south of Ireland was to allow Robyn to indulge in a little family history research. Not the paper kind, but that other one, the one where I drive and she looks out the window.

Now I have to admit that I'm not paying really close attention to who is who in Rob's family tree. All I know is that all these ancestors left Ireland around the time of the Potato Famine in the 1840s. They travelled to Australia, probably Melbourne as a first port of call, and then moved up to Bendigo when the gold rush of the 1850s started. They didn't make much of that and decided to stay on as carters and hansom cab drivers. Some of the descendants moved back to Melbourne but a lot have stayed on.

The weather on day 3 in Ireland was cool, a bit rainy at times but generally bearable. And the countryside was green. I mean really green. All shades of green. You forget how green green can be until you get to Ireland. To an old bloke for Australia this colour comes as quite a surprise.

First stop of the day was Carlow just north of Kilkenny. Not much to see here. It was a decent sized Irish town and while Robyn had a relative from here she didn't know where or how or what. We drove around a bit and didn't get out of the car.

Mural in Kilkenny

Robyn takes pictures

Next was Kilkenny, the county seat, and a busy place. There was some sporting event happening in or near the place so the town centre was very busy and a lot of houses were decked out in the various teams' colours. We parked and wandered around the centre of town. All very pleasant but not very memorable.

Lunch venue

We had a great lunch in Thomastown, wandered around the streets and then headed off to Ballylooby – a place Robyn had been fascinated with for some months. I suspect this was mainly as a result of the name. There sure wasn't a lot in the town.

And then it was off to our accommodation for the night, a restored country house outside Macroom in County Cork. The drive between Ballylooby and Macroom was, well, interesting. Small, narrow, one-lane back-roads bordered by hedges where you were lucky to drive at 60 kph, not because you couldn't go any faster but because you were worried someone would come around the corner and hem you in, or force you to back up a few hundred metres or just run you over.

In the end it was probably too much driving for our second day. Dinner in a nearby town and early to bed, which was already becoming something of a routine.