Ben-B-Bloggin

Ben’s biggest complaint about his old dad on this trip was that old dad was a party popper. True enough old JB starts early….usually about six in the morning. Yes, he would have to wake Ben for those breakfasts that are provided in the hotels and the bed and breakfasts in Europe. Oh, let me go off on a small tangent here.
One wonders how the Irish live as long as they do! Everything for breakfast is fried! Fried eggs, fried potatoes, fried sausages –links and patties, fried bacon…..Americans would call ham…the bacons is so thick…. and even fried tomatoes. We stayed at a bed and breakfast in Schull and selected the traditional Irish breakfast. The father of the house….a sweet old man of eighty years told Ben and me, “I’m glad you chose the Irish breakfast. Lately we’ve been getting some folks who wanted yoghurt and fruit for breakfast, awful.”
So if the traditional breakfast isn’t the healthiest way to start the day consider what many Irishmen…..mainly the men….do during the afternoon? They drink….wonderful whiskey and heavy beer….stourt and ale. For supper Irish stew…..and then for evening they party…..
So Ben and I would sight see or travel during the day and by eight in the evening we’re both bushed. This is the difference: Ben takes an half an hour nap and he’s ready to go again. Old Brou here hits the sack at eight and he’s down for the count. Sometime Ben could roust me, but more often than not, Ben had to party alone…
Back to our Irish adventure……we’re in Dublin. At the moment we have only one destination….Waterford. We quickly realize that Dublin is expensive….$10 US for fish and chips…catsup is extra! No drink. Ben determines that we can take the train to Kilkinney then another train to Waterford. So we go to the central train station in Dublin……where we were told to get the Kilkinney train we must go to Hueston Station. “You can take the tram there or a bus.” Ben and I ended up hoofing it.
Ben keep encouraging me, “Its just past the next bridge.” We were walking along the river. I was weary of dragging my bags….Ben’s weighed twice what mine did but he never seemed to flag. Well when we finally did arrive, I collapsed on a bench while Ben searched out the schedules and the fares. This pattern was repeated many times during our Irish sojourn. Hey I didn’t mind. The lady sitting next to me on the bench was waiting for her daughter to arrive. She was about my age, She informed me, “If you were Irish, you could ride the trains free….and the buses as well.”
Ben returned. Soon we were introduced to railroads in Ireland…..far different from those on the continent. First off…the trains are diesel powered as opposed electric. Second the rolling stock is old…..rusty, with layers of dust, dirt, and grim. The railroad yards are cluttered with the hulks of old cars and debris of all descriptions. Ben and I were prepared for the worse..,,,,something like American railroads with delays and equipment failures. We were wrong. Irish railroads are very comfortable. Passengers sit opposed each other with a table in between which comes in handy if your reading or working on puzzles. Ben was forever playing that number puzzle—Sudoku. I would be remiss if I did not comment on the beauty of the Irish countryside and the quaint towns and villages that we observed as the train passed. The train pulled into Kilkinney station early in the afternoon, Kilkinney is picture postcard Ireland. The first we saw was an old church that was built before America was a county…beautiful.
Our first task was to find a place to stay. Naturally I was pushing for a hostel, but Ben flatly refused after our unsatisfactory experience in Rotterdam. Our search will be the subject of the next installment…Number IV.

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