Hello Dublin Sunshine. Sunday 7th June 2009

Let’s go! Make hay while the sun shines they say. Who are ‘they’ anyway?

Straight on the Open Top Bus Tour to see all the major sights we had not already covered and back to the hotel by 2ish to get a cab to the airport. On the bus tour we got out at the Smithfield Horse Markets held once a month here in Dublin. A dramatic mixture of happy and sad sights were in front of us as we wandered around. Some of the horses had obviously had a hard life, their exposed ribs telling a little of their hardship. Others were a picture of health. I have heard these markets may be closed down. The main players are the youth trading and buying horses, often without the means to take care of them properly.

We were flying Ryan Air for the first time and had heard they were notorious for charging for every kilo your luggage was overweight. The worst thing is that their limit is only 15kg! Is a girl not to travel without shoes? We are quit ok with the usual 20kg limit and have mastered the art of living with a 20kg suitcase plus hand luggage, but 15 kg is impossible. We loaded our hand luggage to its limit and a bit more. If we stood at the check in desk without looking like our backs were breaking we may just get by without them noticing our heavy bags or our jacket pockets loaded with the shoes, books, computer leads, notebooks, etc we were concealing... we had become luggage mules! She didn’t give the hand luggage a sideways glance but our suitcases were 9kg over in total, she only charged us for six. Even that came to €105. We felt sneaky and proud that we had gotten off so lightly.

We arrived in Nantes on the West coast of France 20 minutes ahead of schedule. The cab pulled up outside out next home-exchange, please let it be clean my internal thoughts kept repeating. Dominiques parents were there to greet us with the French cheek sisses we had missed. We are all so happy to be back in France, it kind of feels like home in a funny way, even AJ feels the same.

We were given the induction of our new home for the next three weeks. It is lovely. A converted disco, there is a board showing the extensive renovation taken to convert the building into this beautiful home. The colours are bright and cheerful, the house is nice and clean and the polished concrete floors feel like glass under foot. The home is open plan with different pods to retire to. There is a fooz-ball table which I clean up on the first time I challenge AJ – go the Mumster!

The kitchen is all stainless steel, red and chrome, just lovely. You can tell a lot from a persons home, I imagine the family to be happy and loving, to appreciate culture, good food and the environment. The centre of the home is a big garden with rocks and sand, the water trickles all day and makes the home so relaxing. There are a few tiny fish swimming in the pond. Every evening the pond floats with smoke and in the morning a soft red light shines for a while.

Not long after we arrive a nearby neighbour is at the door to welcome us, he’s nice and invites us for dinner. We are smashed, so take a rain check for now. Our problem is that it is quite late on Sunday night and everything is closed, we have nothing for dinner. Before long our neighbour is gone and returns with a bag of onions, tomatoes, peaches, lettuce, bread and eggs – we will eat tonight.

I love our new home.

Soggy Old Dublin Town. Saturday 6th June 2009.

Most cities do not shine on a wet day and Dublin was no exception. The Temple Bar Farmer's Market was on between 10am and 4pm, most of the stallkeepers were grumpy, sitting under their makeshift shelters as the rain fell hard. The market was small; so small the Belturbet Farmer’s Market almost put it to shame.

We sat in the Temple Bar Pub and enjoyed a drink and some live music; it was just the place to be. It was before beer o’clock but that did not seem to matter to the drinkers of Dublin as they chugged down their dark Guinness nectar, which in this city is a major part of the staple diet. While any self respecting adult would have been proud to shelter from the rain in a fine establishment such as this, AJ was not so happy to do so, boredom had set in.

Lunch would fix that so off we headed to The Bad Ass Cafe for a hot bowl of ‘Forraged Mushroom Soup’. We wandered the streets and it was so miserable, windy and wet we decided to go to a movie. On the way in the sole fell off my hiking boots, just the thing to top off a lovely rainy day, I put it on the arm of the seat beside me for safe keeping; I would glue it later. We saw '12 Rounds'; a good dose of action was just what we needed. We were almost out on the street when I realised I was without my sole (the shoe kind ok), so I dashed back into the cinema to find the cleaners completing their finishing touches. Yes, they had found a sole, no, they did not know what stinking, putrid garbage bag it was in. I have never been afraid of getting my hands dirty but this was ridiculous. It was probably worth $200 Aussie to find it so in I dived. Sucess at last, I found it sloshing around in the soggy bottom, marinaded in Coke.

Home to Fitzsimonds and to get ready for dinner, we would go back to Marco Pierre White’s, Frankie’s and give it a more thorough going over. Carpaccio was brilliant and was a great showcase for Irish beef. The pork belly was forgettable, laced with sinew and dry around the edges. I sent it back. The second was so much more succulent and came minus the sinew which was nice. I was later told the chef had decided to take it off the menu, to refine it a little before it reappeared. My panna cotta dessert came topped with strawberries poached lightly in champagne. The flavours were all there but the texture nearly had me running for the ladies! It was laced with creamy lumps; I sent that back too. I was later informed that the panna cotta had been taken off the menu for the night as the entire batch was afflicted with the same unfortunate problem. Would I be responsible for closing the kitchen tonight?

Dublin Bound. Friday 5th June 2009.

Rob was in bed when our taxi came to take us to the Ulster Bus in the city. I climbed the stairs and knocked the bedroom door. I held his hand and with tears streaming down my face I said my goodbyes and told him I loved him.

I held onto Lilly tight and didn’t want to let her go, goodness knows when I would see her again. She has been so good to us and is very much loved by us all.

The bus drove us along the busy freeway, leaving Belfast behind. I sat looking out the window and sobbed until I could sob no more. I was filled with emotions that were tearing at my heart. Mobile phones rang and their owners spoke cheerily of rendezvous, and of drinking stories from the night before; I just sobbed.

The weather was kind for our arrival in Dublin at about 12.30pm. We clickety-clacked with suitcases in tow to Fitzsimonds Hotel, right in the heart of Temple Bar and in the thick of the action; just how we like it. I knew the boys would love Dublin and I was right. The characters on the streets provided the best people watching material, the buskers were the soundtrack to the city, the cobbled streets bustled with life and we all loved it. We hit the tourist trail and checked out the Hapenny Bridge almost at our hotel door. City Hall was grand with its light filled dome decorated with golden flowers edged in black. We had a quick peek at Dublin Castle but it was about to close so we headed for the gardens. If you are a foodie like me, next time you are in Dublin, make sure you head for Fallon & Byrn’s Food Hall, it’s super doper and chock full of all kinds of delicious goodies.

I love the orangey, red brick buildings of Dublin but most of all I love Trinity College founded in 1592. We spent quite a bit of time there admiring the lawns mowed to show a checkerboard effect, the pillared entrances to the great buildings, the cobbled courtyards, old trees and ivy covered buildings. We played catchy with AJ in the main courtyard, we all had fun.

We crossed the O’Connell Bridge leading us to the other side of the flowing Liffey, and into the Guinness scented, Arlington Hotel. On stage were a duo, singing and playing guitar, flute, and fiddle; a wee taste of Irish diddly for the Reyments. Whenever I think of the diddly I think of you Kath (miss you X). We stayed for a drink and to soak in the atmosphere before heading to Temple Bar for dinner. The streets were beginning to hum, Friday night was on the horizon and there was partying to be done by all and sundry.

We found Frankie’s Italian Bar and Grill which sounded like it suited us to a tee – and it did. Great service, maybe even a little too attentive. Frankie’s has only been open in this location for a few weeks and is Marco Pierre White’s newest baby. I tucked into the Gratinata Tagliolini alla Carbonara. It had all the elements of great Carbonara and was finished off under the grill giving it a creamy, cheesy crust. AJ finished mine after his own Gnocci Genovese which he loved.

We were all smashed after our late night last night, our emotional goodbyes and our trip to Dublin so we opted out of dessert and tumbled out onto the streets. As we had grown tired, the streets had become bright eyed and bushy tailed. Young and the not so young spilled from the doors of the famous Temple Bars. Buskers strummed, sang, and beat their drums, their music drifting on the cool night air. We doled out a few euros to the talent and slipped inside the much quieter confines of the hotel. Sleep came quickly.