Monday, June 10
Scattered bits of sleep is how this one starts. Our flight across the pond was completely uneventful, exactly how you’d like a transatlantic flight to be. It was unfortunate that the plane’s entertainment system was out of order, but probably for the best, because otherwise we may not have slept at all. Once we were in the air, we slept as best as we could in airline seats between meals.
We ended up landing in Dublin half an hour ahead of schedule. Going through customs was quick and painless, and then we were free to explore the city. We had about four hours before we had to be back for our next flight, so we stopped in at the travel help desk and inquired as to the best way to spend our limited time.
We took a bus into the city center and, in an interesting parallel to our previous overseas vacation, our first stop became the Christchurch Cathedral. This enormous facility didn’t have a thousand-step claustrophobic staircase for us to climb, but it did have a remarkable set of catacombs beneath for us to explore, which were filled with religious artifacts and fascinating displays on the church’s centuries-long history. A brief service was held while we were there, open to all, but we did not attend.
We attempted to visit Dublin Castle, but it was closed. Instead we walked around outside of it for a bit, and then went through the attached museum, which was just a couple of rooms and just a small bit of information.
After wandering though a bustling shopping district, like Madison’s State Street on a busy day, we came to a park that Amanda wanted to see. It was densely packed with people, which i thought surprising on a Monday afternoon. The birds in the park would walk right up to you and say hey, feed me, like dogs, completely without fear. We didn’t give them anything, but i tried to pet one. They weren’t quite that much like dogs. Although on our way out of the park i saw one hit a girl in the back.
I’ve been sort of casually looking for a watch since we got here, after realizing that i’d forgotten to take mine from home with us. Amanda doesn’t have one either, so we’ve been relying on our cell phones for the time. Without service in Europe, they haven’t updated and are still stuck on Wisconsin time. Adding to that, my phone was nearly dead all day, so i had it off and would just turn it on when i needed the time, and we’ve got a rather irritating situation. So, we stopped in to a shopping center while on our way back to the bus stop, just to try and find a cheap wristwatch, even a crappy one, just to make it through the vacation. While we did not obtain the timepiece, we did replace another of our valuable Eurotripping items that we’d left at home.
In a bookstore, we picked up a copy of the Rough Guide to Europe 2012. We had four guidebooks at home that we were using to plan the trip (none of which were Rough Guides and all of which were a few years old, at least), and hadn’t realized until arrival at Chicago O’Hare were missing. There’s another nice bit of synergy with the New Zealand trip – while in Kiwiland, the Rough Guide for that country had been our Bible, helping us plan that trip as we went. Sure, this trip is planned out in what i consider an excessive amount of detail, with all of our transportation and accommodation booked out in advance, but we’ve still very little idea what we’re doing in each of our destinations.
With that in hand, we returned to the airport, a few hours ahead of our flight. Once again, getting into the terminal took far less time than expected, so we probably could have spent another hour or two in Dublin, but with flights, it is of course better to be safe.
Annoyingly, the exact gate for our flight was not given. In fact, for our 5:30 flight, to which the doors are supposed to close at 5:00, the gate number was not to be disclosed until 4:30. At the time that we discovered this, it was not even 3:30. We got some sandwiches, milk shakes, and candy bars which aren’t available back home, and sat down in some comfy chairs and tried to stay awake. Amanda did not succeed. It’s fair, though, since i had been the one to doze off on the bus back to the airport.
The gate was finally announced as departing from gate 103, which was an actual half mile from where we’d sat down with our food, or, as posted signs were saying, 8-12 minutes walking distance. We still made it to the gate in time to wait in a huge line behind children, though.
The flight from Dublin to Liverpool was half an hour. Since it was an inter-UK flight, we didn’t need to go through customs at all. There was no security checkpoint. We were off the plane, into luggage collection, and then straight onto the street, unceremoniously.
So we were in Liverpool! Home of The Beatles, and apparently Frankie Goes To Hollywood! They’re very proud of both. And also The Merseybeat. Now we needed to find a way to get to our hotel, which was clear across town, just over 9 miles from the airport.
A friendly local noticed that we looked a little lost and offered his assistance. We explained where we were trying to get, and he encouraged us to take the train across town, but the nearest train station was about two miles from the airport, so we’d need to take a bus to get to that. He offered several transit options and was generally very friendly about it. Then, at a seemingly random point in the conversation, out of the blue, he says, “Now, did you know that…statistically speaking, of course…six out of seven dwarves…are not Happy?”
We must have looked at him dumbfounded for a moment before laughing, because he then proceeded to try and explain the joke, but i cut him off with a well-timed “I see what you did there.”
The rest of our chat with him was mostly awful puns and jokes, then we thanked him and were on our way. We needed some cash for the bus, though, since England is not part of the European Union and therefore does not run on Euros, like Ireland and pretty much every other country on our itinerary. The ATM at the airport dispensed cash at a minimum amount of 200GBP, or, for those of you following along at home in Wisconsin, $334.
We stopped at the airport’s Subway for cookies and change, and then boarded the (double-decker!) bus toward the train station. The driver inquired as to where we were headed, and we couldn’t remember the name of the station. So i said, the nearest one, and he didn’t seem to understand. But at some point in our confused ramblings it came out that our final destination was the Lime Street Station, which, as stated, was clear across town, he informed us that he was going to that station as well. So, since bus fare is a static thing, we opted to just stay on the bus and take the lengthier route to the hotel. So we got up top and watched nine miles of Liverpool go by from a great vantage point.
In our first twenty minutes in Liverpool, we had flown into the John Lennon International Airport, seen a giant yellow submarine, crossed Penny Lane, and finally arrived at the Eleanor Rigby Hotel. So, exactly what you’d expect from the city that birthed The Beatles.
I had initially intended to go out and see some bands that night, being in Liverpool and all, but i hadn’t been able to find any in all of my Googlings except for Elvis Costello, who i wasn’t interested in paying 20 pounds to see in Liverpool while on my vacation. What i really wanted was local entertainment. But there didn’t seem to be any, and we were very, very tired, so as soon as we got in that room and saw that bed, we passed the fuck out.
Scattered bits of sleep is how this one starts. Our flight across the pond was completely uneventful, exactly how you’d like a transatlantic flight to be. It was unfortunate that the plane’s entertainment system was out of order, but probably for the best, because otherwise we may not have slept at all. Once we were in the air, we slept as best as we could in airline seats between meals.
We ended up landing in Dublin half an hour ahead of schedule. Going through customs was quick and painless, and then we were free to explore the city. We had about four hours before we had to be back for our next flight, so we stopped in at the travel help desk and inquired as to the best way to spend our limited time.
We took a bus into the city center and, in an interesting parallel to our previous overseas vacation, our first stop became the Christchurch Cathedral. This enormous facility didn’t have a thousand-step claustrophobic staircase for us to climb, but it did have a remarkable set of catacombs beneath for us to explore, which were filled with religious artifacts and fascinating displays on the church’s centuries-long history. A brief service was held while we were there, open to all, but we did not attend.
We attempted to visit Dublin Castle, but it was closed. Instead we walked around outside of it for a bit, and then went through the attached museum, which was just a couple of rooms and just a small bit of information.
After wandering though a bustling shopping district, like Madison’s State Street on a busy day, we came to a park that Amanda wanted to see. It was densely packed with people, which i thought surprising on a Monday afternoon. The birds in the park would walk right up to you and say hey, feed me, like dogs, completely without fear. We didn’t give them anything, but i tried to pet one. They weren’t quite that much like dogs. Although on our way out of the park i saw one hit a girl in the back.
I’ve been sort of casually looking for a watch since we got here, after realizing that i’d forgotten to take mine from home with us. Amanda doesn’t have one either, so we’ve been relying on our cell phones for the time. Without service in Europe, they haven’t updated and are still stuck on Wisconsin time. Adding to that, my phone was nearly dead all day, so i had it off and would just turn it on when i needed the time, and we’ve got a rather irritating situation. So, we stopped in to a shopping center while on our way back to the bus stop, just to try and find a cheap wristwatch, even a crappy one, just to make it through the vacation. While we did not obtain the timepiece, we did replace another of our valuable Eurotripping items that we’d left at home.
In a bookstore, we picked up a copy of the Rough Guide to Europe 2012. We had four guidebooks at home that we were using to plan the trip (none of which were Rough Guides and all of which were a few years old, at least), and hadn’t realized until arrival at Chicago O’Hare were missing. There’s another nice bit of synergy with the New Zealand trip – while in Kiwiland, the Rough Guide for that country had been our Bible, helping us plan that trip as we went. Sure, this trip is planned out in what i consider an excessive amount of detail, with all of our transportation and accommodation booked out in advance, but we’ve still very little idea what we’re doing in each of our destinations.
With that in hand, we returned to the airport, a few hours ahead of our flight. Once again, getting into the terminal took far less time than expected, so we probably could have spent another hour or two in Dublin, but with flights, it is of course better to be safe.
Annoyingly, the exact gate for our flight was not given. In fact, for our 5:30 flight, to which the doors are supposed to close at 5:00, the gate number was not to be disclosed until 4:30. At the time that we discovered this, it was not even 3:30. We got some sandwiches, milk shakes, and candy bars which aren’t available back home, and sat down in some comfy chairs and tried to stay awake. Amanda did not succeed. It’s fair, though, since i had been the one to doze off on the bus back to the airport.
The gate was finally announced as departing from gate 103, which was an actual half mile from where we’d sat down with our food, or, as posted signs were saying, 8-12 minutes walking distance. We still made it to the gate in time to wait in a huge line behind children, though.
The flight from Dublin to Liverpool was half an hour. Since it was an inter-UK flight, we didn’t need to go through customs at all. There was no security checkpoint. We were off the plane, into luggage collection, and then straight onto the street, unceremoniously.
So we were in Liverpool! Home of The Beatles, and apparently Frankie Goes To Hollywood! They’re very proud of both. And also The Merseybeat. Now we needed to find a way to get to our hotel, which was clear across town, just over 9 miles from the airport.
A friendly local noticed that we looked a little lost and offered his assistance. We explained where we were trying to get, and he encouraged us to take the train across town, but the nearest train station was about two miles from the airport, so we’d need to take a bus to get to that. He offered several transit options and was generally very friendly about it. Then, at a seemingly random point in the conversation, out of the blue, he says, “Now, did you know that…statistically speaking, of course…six out of seven dwarves…are not Happy?”
We must have looked at him dumbfounded for a moment before laughing, because he then proceeded to try and explain the joke, but i cut him off with a well-timed “I see what you did there.”
The rest of our chat with him was mostly awful puns and jokes, then we thanked him and were on our way. We needed some cash for the bus, though, since England is not part of the European Union and therefore does not run on Euros, like Ireland and pretty much every other country on our itinerary. The ATM at the airport dispensed cash at a minimum amount of 200GBP, or, for those of you following along at home in Wisconsin, $334.
We stopped at the airport’s Subway for cookies and change, and then boarded the (double-decker!) bus toward the train station. The driver inquired as to where we were headed, and we couldn’t remember the name of the station. So i said, the nearest one, and he didn’t seem to understand. But at some point in our confused ramblings it came out that our final destination was the Lime Street Station, which, as stated, was clear across town, he informed us that he was going to that station as well. So, since bus fare is a static thing, we opted to just stay on the bus and take the lengthier route to the hotel. So we got up top and watched nine miles of Liverpool go by from a great vantage point.
In our first twenty minutes in Liverpool, we had flown into the John Lennon International Airport, seen a giant yellow submarine, crossed Penny Lane, and finally arrived at the Eleanor Rigby Hotel. So, exactly what you’d expect from the city that birthed The Beatles.
I had initially intended to go out and see some bands that night, being in Liverpool and all, but i hadn’t been able to find any in all of my Googlings except for Elvis Costello, who i wasn’t interested in paying 20 pounds to see in Liverpool while on my vacation. What i really wanted was local entertainment. But there didn’t seem to be any, and we were very, very tired, so as soon as we got in that room and saw that bed, we passed the fuck out.
No comments:
Post a Comment