I am composing this post onboard the 0935 train from Dublin to Belfast. It feels like this is the first time we have stopped since leaving Iqaluit on June 10! We flew KLM from Vancouver to Heathrow via Amsterdam where we passed the time in the Irish Pub watching a guy play golf in the middle of the pub... Blaine and I marveled at the bargain basement prices in the duty free shop and invested in a bottle of Caol Isla for me, JD Silver Select for him and Johnnie Walker Blue Label as an early birthday present for Ted. Arriving in Heathrow we all made it through immigration and customs and were greeted by our driver who was identified by a sign that read "Emma Jane Hull to Swindon". Presumably my parents felt it necessary to include my middle name and our destination as there might have been hoards of Emma Hulls expecting cars at the airport and we might not have found our man! This attention to detail did not extend to attention to driving and we t-boned a car as we pulled out of the carpark! I fell asleep on the motorway, the Canadian contingent stayed wide awake with terror.
Swindon
After a quick trip to the bank we then set off in a two car convoy to the pub. By some cruel twist of fate the traffic was insane and it took us half an hour to travel the three miles by which time it was too cold to sit outside. A sign posted on the wall read "Dogs must be on a leash in the garden" which I interpreted as don't let your dog run smock in the garden. The rest of the group took it to mean dogs are allowed only in the garden. So it was that Riddick and Echo's walk was from the car to the beer garden and then back to the car. We enjoyed a pint inside the pub. Dinner was deliciously tender steaks that were so large they had to be cooked separately, Ted cooked four steaks on the BBQ outside in the drizzle while Dom smoked out the kitchen with three steaks on the griddle pan. A good many beverages were consumed and we all enjoyed sleeping in beds instead of airplane seats.
Friday morning we had a leisurely start to the day with a cooked breakfast and lots of coffee and juice to combat fatigue and dehydration respectively. After a couple of attempts I finally succeeded in entering all six passengers' travel information onto the Ryanair website within the undisclosed time limit and was able to print off our boarding passes. This important task accomplished we then distributed ourselves between two vehicles and set off for Avebury. Dom drove Blaine, Ted and Riddick in the Volvo while mum drove Carol and I in her car, Dad stayed home to look after Echo and cook dinner. Dominic navigated by GPS, mum by very fuzzy memory... an important fact that she did not disclose until after the men sent a text message asking where we were. With the aid of a map book we found our destination and enjoyed a splendid view of one of Wiltshire's white horses. The six of us ate lunch in the Red Lion pub which did allow dogs in on that day, but not tomorrow. Happily full once again we joined the sheep in wandering around the stones and earth mounds puzzling over their point. Carol read the pamphlet so presumably she could inform us. The next hour was spent marveling over the ancient church and manor house before rain stopped play. The boys went straight home while the ladies demonstrated stronger touristic tenacity and went to Marlborough to take some photos of the high street.
Back at the house we regrouped over a whisky then prepared the TomTom to guide us to Swindon's legendary "magic roundabout". We piled into Dad's Peugeot 405 estate, Blaine in the driver seat and Dom as his brave copilot, in the back I took the seat of death sandwiched between Carol and Ted. We had to navigate an inordinate number of roundabouts of varying sizes to get to our destination which gave Dominic the opportunity to run through some basic principles of right of way and lane discipline. For the purposes of today's exercise it was agreed that roundabouts should be treated as stops rather than give way and that lane discipline was best addresses by following the car in front. I should point out that dad's car is an older model with character, not only did Blaine have to contend with driving on the wrong side of the road, changing gear with the wrong hand and the four of us as passengers, but the electrics are going so the windscreen wipers kept failing and the clutch, brakes and accelerator are a little temperamental. Neither Dom nor I have driven the magic roundabout so we were most impressed by Blaine's bravery and skill, he successfully navigated it twice without even being honked at! Cee came down for the night and the eight of us made a valiant effort to drink everything in the house, stopping only when there was no more room in the recycling bin for the empty bottles
Bristol
Blaine and I got up early and went to check out the firehall where we enjoyed a cup of tea and some homemade flapjack. We got back to the house with two minutes to spare before Crash turned up to drive the six of us to Bristol leaving Dom and Cee to clean up and then take the dogs to London. The drive to Bristol was without incident and we arrived at the hotel, dropped off our bags and went in search of food and drink. The heavens opened and we all got drenched but Tony and Ted sniffed out a pub and established themselves at the bar. Carol and Jean pottered around St Nicholas market and Blaine and I headed down to the waterfront. Back at the hotel we celebrated my birthday with a bottle of champagne in Jean and Tony's corner suite overlooking Welsh Back and then commenced an ambitious pub crawl.
A gentle stroll through the scenic Castle Park led us to Bath Ales' Bridge Inn where we were greeted by Henry, Sophie and Ned. We sat outside in the sunshine and enjoyed a pint before moving on to the Cornubia. Next stop was the Kings Head pub which is featured in a CAMRA historic pub interiors book that Adi once gave me so it was only fitting that he, Ali and Evie joined the party there. Pub 4 was a short stumble down the street to Ye Shakespeare where the wise ones ate. The Bristolian contingent departed and we moved on to the Seven Stars where Carol and Ted challenged some other patrons to a pool match. At the Portwall Tavern a strange transaction occurred in which we traded Blaine for an accountant named Simon. Blaine and his new friends Dominic and Martin went to Hooters (because the wings are really good) while Carol, Simon and I went to the Ostrich. Jean took Ted and Tony back to the hotel. Those left standing reconvened at a bar called Sublime where we continued to drink until Carol and I surrendered at 1am. Blaine finally gave in at 2am.
Sunday morning we gently explored the new M Shed but were overwhelmed by the noisy kids so retreated to the more sophisticated atmosphere of Loch Fyne restaurant for a light lunch. The hotel ordered us a taxi for 6 plus luggage so we and the driver were initially a little put off when he presented his 6 seater without luggage space. He gamely followed Blaine's example of shoving bags in every orifice and ontop of each passenger, Blaine and I were squished in the very back seat with suitcases on us acting as restraint systems in place of the now buried seat belts. Our driver almost crashed as he pulled away from the curb but then made it through the 20 minute journey without anyone screaming. After check in we walked what felt like a mile to the Ryanair gate and squished onto the plane for the short hop over the sea to Dublin.
Enough blogging for now, stay tuned to find out what happens during our 3 days on the emerald isle.
