Route Barrée

June 20, 2024June 19, 2024 | Mairead

And then we were heading for another Beaux Village, Rochefort en Terre. Usually it’s fairly straightforward getting into these villages but not this one. We were due to arrive at lunchtime and as we were in Brittany now I was looking forward to my first galette – a savoury pancake from Brittany. But it was not to be.

Following some less than perfect navigation we found ourselves at the place no motorhome wants to be… rising barriers. You know those barriers that lower to let certain vehicles pass into a street but rises up when others who don’t have permission come along? Well, here we were about to drive forward onto a rising barrier. Would it stay down or would it rise up as we passed? And if it rose up would it mess up the underside of the van? The grey water tank? Or something worse? We would need to turn back.

The rising barriers – can you just make two of them in the middle of the road?

Not an easy thing to do, as mentioned previously. Added to that we were on a hairpin bend and there was a car behind. Denis reversed a little and the car did too. Then he proceeded steeply up to the left along the hairpin bend. Only then did we see the sign prohibiting motorhomes… we kept going anyway.

Here we passed a lot of parking for cars but none for motorhomes. Eventually the road widened and Denis noticed a huge parking area on the left. There were some busses and one other motorhome, we drove in. It started to rain, we gave up on the galettes and made our own lunch.

Lunch done, we locked up the van but we had hardly taken three steps when an official car (council possibly, bus company probably) drove in and stopped beside us. The French man got out and directed us with hand gestures to follow him. With more hand gestures he pointed to a sign at the entrance. It was a no parking sign… now, to be fair to us it didn’t say – No Parking – it was a symbol for no parking which is basically an X on a blue background with a red ring around it. But as we’re driving on French roads we are kinda supposed to know all the signs…

We looked at each other mystified but it was slowly dawning on us that he was annoyed and wanted us gone. He did a lot more gesturing, this time to his eye and to a motorway sign that had a motorhome parking symbol at the first exit. Ok… so that’s where the parking is and not here? We returned to the van and undid everything we had done to lock up. Meanwhile two more motorhomes (French) had spotted us and were coming in. He went off to give them the gestures. We still hadn’t moved (it takes a while…) and he was back to us, saying stuff and pointing at the now disappearing French motorhomes. Possibly he was saying, Hurry up follow them! These are not words I thought to learn in French… must expand my vocabulary.

We followed, for miles out of town. And it struck us that we would probably never see this beautiful village… especially when at last the French motorhomes stopped… at a Route Baree sign – road closed. Right. The French motorhomes used a handy side road to do a u-turn. We considered our options. I wanted to go back to the man with all the pointing and show him pictures of the Route Barre signs but Denis said he didn’t think that would be as satisfying as I thought it would be…

We’d seen a lot of Beaux Villages, it wasn’t the end of the world to miss one, we could just move on to the next town and all would be well. But I wanted to see this one, especially as it was proving so difficult to get into. We went back to following the French motorhomes and wouldn’t you know it they had found a sliver of space on the side of the road not far from the route barre. There was just enough space for us to park there too and we did.

He who plants a garden plants happiness. Chinese Proverb

An update on the barrier – because the road we were supposed to use was closed they were letting vans and cars through the village and the barrier wouldn’t have risen up as we passed. Having said that, it was a very narrow village with the motorhome parking was at the far end and I can only imagine the stress of driving through when there was no way to turn around and undo that decision.

It was a beautiful village, well of course it was, they all are.

Zooming Northwards

June 10, 2024June 9, 2024 | Mairead

Stork’s nest in Alcácer do Sal reminded me of peace in 2019

Saturday 1st June we left Sines very grateful for the free parking space and the cool breeze that kept the temperatures below 21 degrees for our entire stay. We were heading north but there were no other cool spots on the way. The best we could hope for was that by the time we had reached our destination the sun would have started setting.

This would be a full day’s drive, getting to our next overnight stop on the border with Spain in time for dinner. We were passing all the places we would have loved to visit, places we had been to in a different year and were looking forward to seeing again but not this year, maybe next year or maybe not for a long time. As we spent all day in the van this post is filled with photos from past trips to these places, a trip through time…

Renting electric scooters, Lisbon April 2019

Like Alcácer do Sal with its narrow shady streets, small museum, riverside cafes, multiple restaurants and a nice campsite (with washing machine!) near two supermarkets – everything within reach.

And Lisbon, the capital city where we stayed in the huge campsite and I took a bus to the train into the city the year I attended a creativity course. Where the nuns in the monastery invented Pastel de Nata’s and they are still baked daily nearby.

Or Mafra with its huge cathedral with 4 (or maybe 5) church organs and attached palace now a museum.

And Alcobaça with an equally huge cathedral and instead of a palace an almost empty monastery attached. Where an artist was repainting the life size statue of Jesus on the cross.

The city of Porto where we went on a food tour in 2023 has always been a location with a more moderate climate and we love it but even Porto was baking in the heat so we drove past getting little glimpses of the bridges in the distance.

Aveiro where we parked by the train station and took a train to Porto for the food tour. The colourful town with Venetian style boats and coloured ribbons instead of locks proclaiming love on their many bridges.

The town – Vila Nova de Cerveira – our destination on the Spanish-Portuguese border may not have been cool in temperature but it has the coolest tapas. So we were willing to risk higher temperatures!

We forgot to take photos of our tapas… so even the food is a memory. From April 2019 brunch in Porto!

The first thing we did when we arrived was to walk in the blazing sun (the sun hadn’t set just yet…) from the car park to the restaurant to book a table for later. This place is so popular with the locals, and possibly the Spanish from over the border, that we were concerned we might miss the prize we had risked the heat for. Table booked we sat in a shaded courtyard with a cold drink reading.

Vila Nova de Cerveira with Spain on the other side of the river with cool breezes as the sun sets

After dinner the sun had set but it was still warm enough to sit by the river (which borders north Portugal and Spain) and appreciate the natural air conditioning coming off the water. Tomorrow we would travel a couple of hours into Spain just north of Santiago de Compostela to a parking spot at a greenway, Via Verde. The temperatures were forecast to be a max of 25 degrees on Sunday going up to 28 degrees on Monday. We would only be staying one night on our route north. All manner of things are well.

Route via green dots from Sines to Vila Nova de Cerveira and some of the places we *didn’t stop* at along the way!

One more story from Granada

June 4, 2024June 9, 2024 | Mairead

This is a really beautiful city and with a little pre planning and arrival in the Goldilocks season – when it’s not too hot and not too cold – you could easily spend 5 days here exploring, walking in the shaded parks, drinking coffee, tasting tapas and visiting (inside) the Alhambra.

Remember when we were looking for the bus into the city and we were lucky to meet a couple of other campers, who gave us directions? We had noticed them at the parking site but we hadn’t noticed where they were from.

In case you are wondering how we would know where they were from there’s a thing that all motor-homers seem to do when they pass motorhomes in the parking. We take a furtive look at the registration plates. All vehicles, as you probably already know, in the EU will have their country identifier on their number plate beside the number. For example, Ireland is IRL. These days vehicles from the UK no longer have the identifier on their licence plates but they usually have a sticker saying GB or UK. Vehicles from Northern Ireland vary, some have IRL and some have UK. Vehicles from Switzerland have CH on their licence plate or on a sticker on their vehicle.

Country identifier for Ireland – sticker and license plate

As we made our way towards the bus stop as directed by the man in the parking we passed the woman from the couple, she was in a three-wheel wheelchair. Her partner must have gone back to the van as she was on her own on the path, we all said Ola and carried on. By the time they caught up with us we were on the far side of the road seeing no bus stop. The woman noticed us and explained the bus to the city was further on. Relief to hear that and at the same time definitely not loving walking in the heat. We were quite slow now as we followed behind them.

The woman was travelling on the road while her partner was walking on the path. I would never have cycled on that road, it was busy with cars and trucks and busses. But she was doing it and she looked powerfully in her element. I was already starting to forget that this walk was too much and this heat was too hot. Eventually we got to the bus. It turned out to be the terminus and the bus had to turn around and face back where it came from before we could get on. When it stopped the woman in the wheelchair was on the path beside the door and her partner got on to ask the driver to press the button to lower the floor for her wheelchair.

Graffiti lane on the way to the Alhambra

Unfortunately the bus driver couldn’t lower the floor where he was stopped because the footpath was too high so he moved forward. But now we all needed to squeeze past the bus shelter to get to the door. No problem for us… but the gap between edge of the bus shelter and the bus was too narrow for the wheelchair to get through. She needed to go around the back of the bus… but the wheelchair ramp was now blocked by the bus and
The only other ramp was way back at the previous junction. I have no idea how they kept so cheerful, I was feeling frustrated for them but that wasn’t useful. Eventually they took the front wheel off the wheelchair and maneuvered a way to get around the bus.

When the bus arrived into the city the woman made sure to catch my eye to let us know where we needed to get off. Not all adventures climb to the highest peaks or swim to the farthest shores. Some adventures start at your front door and take you just outside. Sometimes I need a reminder not to take myself too seriously. I got it.

Three for two plus free bread

June 2, 2024June 1, 2024 | Mairead

Hello! I’m back and sorry about the delay. I was bitten and it was hot and it took all my energy staying sane. We are in Portugal as I write, sheltering from the heat with shade and showers and cafe abatanada (americano coffee) on tap. There’s no going off on adventures, catching local transport or visiting museums – staying cool seems adventurous enough.

Some of my bug bites. Also, toilets are the coolest place (as in, not as hot as outside)

It’s 27 degrees C here at the campsite at the moment, it’s forecast to go past 30. I’m sitting on the steps of a closed restaurant in a sliver of shade. We will move on tomorrow and hug the coast and travel north to get that temperature down for me. Denis doesn’t have the same requirement for sane temperatures and can work away inside the van (where temperatures go up to 10 degrees higher than outside) while I wilt (and complain loudly) in the shade.

Here’s the beautiful beach near the campsite with the monster bugs

The bug bites are healing now and I don’t look as diseased as I did… or maybe I don’t care as much. They were a new kind of bug and I didn’t really notice them at first, thought they were flies landing on me. Two days later I was able to count 40 itchy blisters. It had been during the day, there was a breeze blowing… mosquitoes come out in the evening and don’t like the wind, right? What were these new monsters? I really don’t like getting bitten, it’s like a blackness comes over me and everything turns negative. I am hell to live with. Of course I didn’t spray any repellant, I thought I was safe if I stayed inside at dusk with the little bug-killing light. I wasn’t, nope.

View of Baños de la Encina from the camper parking at night

I want to catch you up on where we’ve been since I last wrote and that’s what’s coming next.

Not sure photos can show the steep gradient in the town…

We left Toledo late afternoon on Friday and headed for the small town of Baños de la Encina where a hot shower awaited. It had been a long day and there would be two and a half more hours driving but the temperature was lower than France had been so all was well.

Arriving at the foot of the very steep village at 8.45pm we had quick showers and headed uphill. It was the kind of hill that was so steep it makes you wonder how you’ll get back down again in one piece. But of course every step upwards brought views worth the effort.

View of the countryside from halfway up the hill

We had googled for a tapas restaurant and there was one at the top. The place was hopping, our timing was accidentally perfect – meaning food was available. We read the menu as best we could but didn’t quite understand the procedure. There were plenty of options but which ones were tapas and what were those others?

When the waitress arrived Denis asked, do you speak English? She smiled, said no, just a moment and left. While she was gone we did our best to use the translate app on the whole menu but still we weren’t sure. Eventually a young man arrived at the restaurant door, rushed to a cupboard to pick up his apron and came to ask us what we wanted. He could speak English! We ordered what we thought were a few tapas dishes and then he told us something that now made sense as we looked around at all the other diners.

He told us the tapas were free with an alcoholic drink – Denis could have one but I would have to pay for mine. Everyone there had a single tapas and a drink. No one was actually having dinner. This was possibly pre-dinner time. When he arrived with our food we started to understand that we had ordered three full dinners between us… and he’d also added a plate of free bread. Plus we had just finished our “free” tapas.

Needless to say we couldn’t finish our dinners. We did make it back to the campsite without getting lost or sliding down the hill and next morning (Saturday) we headed off to Grenada, another hilltop old town.

And another place where we didn’t quite understand the procedure.

The Butterfly Effect

January 10, 2024January 10, 2024 | Mairead

She has a special holder for her umbrella

We went back to our first breakfast cafe in this area of Osaka and got a great welcome. The lady was out and the owner was doing all the cooking and welcoming by himself. We had more of their amazing toast with maple syrup. As we were eating the lady returned on her bike. As we got up to pay the owner came around the counter and with the help of his phone said, very nice to see you again and then asked if we were going home today? We said we were going to Hiroshima tomorrow and he became animated and pointed to the lady – and his phone said, it is her hometown! Oh Japan, stop with all your kindness I’m not able to cope. We bowed and I’ve a new addition to my bow – my hand jumps up to my heart. It means, Stop, please don’t stop, you’re making me cry.

This would be our last full day in Osaka. Tomorrow at noon we are leaving on the Shinkansen and travelling to Hiroshima where we will spend one night before going to Kyoto where we expect to see lots of pretty temples. Then back to the hotel near Osaka Kix airport (the one on the manmade island) for our last night in Japan.

As I write we are in the Minoh Park, a big forested park in the north of Osaka. We walked about 2km to the Minoh Waterfall and on the way back spotted a cafe in amongst the trees. The most fancy looking cafe we’ve been in here. There’s classical music playing and all around us are coffee themed antiques. When our coffee arrived earlier we were more than surprised by the grandeur of silver coffee pots, cream jug and sugar bowl.

Needless to say, matching cups and saucers also arrived and everything was laid out so precisely by the young waitress. Our only small concern with all this grandeur is that if they don’t take credit cards our Yen reserves of cash may not cover this feast. We ordered coffee and sandwiches.

I bet it looks spectacular in cherry blossom season

We always forget to top up the cash… And there are no atms here in the forest. We are 1km from the station so even if I stay as collateral it would take Denis more than 20 minutes to get there and back. But there may not even be atms at the station… Would he come back without the cash? Or would he take the train into the city to look for one there? And this cafe closes in an hour. These are the questions they don’t ask you to consider on a pre-marriage course… What will become of me here on my own in the forest?

Look, Denis! Look at the pretty lights! Hmmm.

They accepted our credit card. And it cost less than two coffees plus sandwiches at home.

Can you see the guy with long legs walking on the surface?

There’s also an insect museum in this park. There’s a lot of big insects here that I hope never to meet but big and small they are all providing a service to us and the food we need to nourish us. Without them we wouldn’t survive because our food wouldn’t have an environment it could grown in or the assistance it needs in procreating. We are closely connected to insects whether I like it or not.

There was one section I loved – The Butterfly Garden. It was a two story humid glass house full of green trees and plants with colourful butterflies flying freely. They flew close enough you could feel the breeze from their wings. You know the Chinese saying that goes something like, the flapping of a butterfly’s wings can be felt on the other side of the world? It’s a metaphor for how interconnected we are. How we are dependent on each other, how what happens here has effects there.

Here’s a Rice Paper Butterfly taking a drink

We will be visiting the peace museum in Hiroshima. One of the things I want to see is the Children’s Peace Monument. Shiori told me about the little girl, Sadako, who was only 2 years old and 2 km from where the bomb fell but was uninjured. At least they thought she was uninjured. When she was 8 she was diagnosed with the A-bomb-disease, leukemia. In the hospital her friend brought her origami paper and told her about a legend. It goes that if a sick person folds 1,000 paper crane birds they will get better soon.

Shiori’s Mum gave us these ceramic cranes

Sadako made even more than 1,000 cranes but she knew she wasn’t getting better, she did not get well, she died within the year. But her school friends had joined her making paper cranes and the idea spread across Japan and around the world. And money was collected and they built the Children’s Peace Monument.

Engraved on the base of the statue are the words:
This is our cry. This is our prayer. Peace in the world.

High Expectations

October 3, 2023October 3, 2023 | Mairead

On Wednesday we enquired about staying overnight in the car park of a pub called the Buck Inn. The arrangement for staying was to buy a meal and the menu looked good so we reserved a table and a parking spot and drove to a place called Flixton near the village of Bungay in the county of Suffolk. We still hadn’t found gas but as we were eating out, we probably wouldn’t need it.

A huge colourful rabbit inside at the bar

We pulled into the car park in the late afternoon and Denis noticed that right next door was The Norfolk and Suffolk Aviation Museum. We went to have a look. Unfortunately… they were closing and they wouldn’t be open again until Saturday. Like the National Trust, this museum was run by volunteers so the hours are restricted to volunteer hours. But they took pity on us (as we wouldn’t be here on Saturday) and said we could wander in after 9am the following morning as there would be someone working there. That sorted we went back to the van and Denis set about doing some work.

One of the hangers at The Norfolk and Suffolk Aviation Museum and Denis had it all to himself

That’s when we realised the roaming phone data (for internet connection) was non existent. Never mind, the pub had wifi, we went in, ordered coffees from the really friendly staff and started work. But the wifi was disturbingly slow and the acoustics (from the small group of people present) were disturbingly unpleasant. I went back to the data free van and read a book – paper. Around 7pm we went for dinner and it was very good. There were two other couples in the dining room but I don’t like crowds so no complaints from me. Our young server commiserated with us about the data problem, he said he lived up the road and it was just as bad there.

Denis took these photos… I asked him why he took this one he said it was interesting to see what a pilot would see…

Next morning I convinced Denis I’d rather clean the van than go to the museum so he went along on his own and really enjoyed it. He says it was huge and there were lots of people working on different projects and they were all very friendly. There was also a shop selling souvenirs and books. He said he could have spent a full day in there and not seen everything. Admission is by donation.

And then it was time to get the gas. Denis had rung a garage and the nice lady said she had gas at the moment but there was no way of knowing if she’d have it by the time we arrived. You see there’s no gauge… to tell if there was any LPG in their tank. They only knew for sure when it ran out and then they would ring the gas company but it could take a week for a delivery. Well that did explain why we were having difficulty – we were just unlucky. Fingers crossed this garage wouldn’t have run out. And it hadn’t! Well it hadn’t run out of gas but it had run out of petrol and diesel!

Same postbox taken at the same time from a different angle, makes all the difference

We were starting to think that the time warp of the first few days was back and we were now in the petrol strikes of the 1970’s. I think that’s when we decided it was time to call it a day and go home. We were still a long way from the ferry and I was glad of that because I was looking forward to seeing many more National Trust sites. Maybe if we lowered our expectations for getting the services we thought we needed for the next few days then all would be well.

Decision made we headed to Anglesey Abbey, Lode, Cambridgeshire, this National Trust site I mentioned last time had been owned by a family who earned their fortune from sewage systems.

Summary: You can be unlucky with LPG gas supplies. Data coverage isn’t great outside cities. Volunteering continues to flourish. A change of perspective can change everything. Query: Is phone data reliable where you live?

Permission Cards Website: www.permission.cards

King Edmund the Saint

September 22, 2023September 21, 2023 | Mairead

The Abbey Gate (looking towards the town) that led into the monastery which was demolished by King Henry VIII

On Sunday we arrived in the town of Bury St. Edmunds about forty minutes from Cambridge. It’s a very old town that started with a legend about a wolf…

Church Gate leading to the monastery’s church which was also demolished

it was back in 869AD and Edmund was king of East Anglia. He was fighting against the Danish invaders when he was captured and decapitated. When his soldiers came looking for him his head was missing. When they finally found it, it was being protected by a wolf. The wolf allowed the soldiers to take King Edmund’s head and as soon as it came in contact with his body, it fused back on…

St. Edmundsbury Cathedral, within the walls of the monastery, built in 1964

Well yes of course, that story is hard to believe now but it made a big impression on the people of England back then and was very helpful to the monastery. Monasteries often bought the bones of people who were considered saints so they could promote pilgrimages and special days where they would collect much needed donations on their saint’s behalf.

This is one of the houses built with stones from the demolished monastery, the shape is a nod to the original church building

When Bury St. Edmunds Abbey was founded in 1020 they were lucky enough to get King Edmund’s bones. Because of the story of the fusing of his head he was considered a saint and the monastery became one of the most famous and wealthy pilgrimage locations in England. The power of story.

The town has very kindly provided overnight parking for motorhomes so we parked up and went on a walk. First stop the Abbey Gardens just minutes away.

Bury St. Edmunds is well used to royalty

You will have heard of King Henry VIII and his six wives but did you also hear about his shutting down the monasteries? All the monasteries, in Ireland too, in the 1500’s. Most of them were demolished and the stone used to construct new buildings. This happened in Bury St. Edmunds and most of the abbey buildings are now just ruins but in spite of that, still beautiful.

It looks a bit like a lighthouse but this is the first listed road sign in England

There was a contemporary art exhibition in Moyse’s Hall museum in Bury St. Edmund’s this week. Including some original Banksy’s (wall still attached). By the time I walked out the door I was fired up. I would love to have the courage to make some truthful “ugly” art.

Summary: A good story can support a monastery. Art doesn’t have to be pretty. Query: What story would you like to tell with your street art?

Thomas Harley is not Thomas Hardy

September 19, 2023September 19, 2023 | Mairead

We seem to have fallen into a time warp… five days have passed! After the pub we moved to… Berrington Hall built for Thomas Harley in 1778. NOT Thomas Hardy (who was born in 1840) as I thought the guide was telling me. Inside my head, not out loud, I said – how did he afford to build this house, wasn’t he a poor writer? No, Berrington Hall has nothing to do with Thomas Hardy. History is very interesting to me but also confusing sometimes. There’s so much of it and lots of things repeat over and over like wars, there’s also a lot of men with similar names. I struggle to keep the years and the names clear in my head.

Thomas Harley was a member of the Harley family of whom Harley’s Street in London was named, they made their money from providing uniforms for the army, probably not poor then. He was a Lord Mayor of London and when he gave that up he retired to the country for some peace. It is very peaceful here. It’s in the middle of the countryside surrounded by fields, hundred year old trees, thousands of sheep and a lake. There’s a walled garden too and a laundry garden – where the servants laid out the washed bed linens on the grass to dry.

National Trust houses and gardens are run by volunteers. I didn’t understand this until now. It’s a very different system to the OPW in Ireland. It makes sense now why they charge to go in and also ask for donations, of money and books. They sell the donated second hand books to gather much needed extra finance to keep the houses open to the public. I bought a two week pass so I hope to be going to many more National Trust locations. I’m also going to check out their secondhand books. Also, it was Beatrix Potter (of Peter Rabbit fame) who set up the National Trust.

Today in Tesco we met a woman in the queue who was very friendly. She chatted to us about the queue and said “I must be bored I’m talking your head off.” So I asked her what she did when she wasn’t bored and she said she loved to read and she loved her garden and she told us about it. This might be one of those times when you had to be there to appreciate how nice this was. We have been noticing how friendly everybody is in Ireland and missing that. It is a much underrated (by me until now, anyway) experience to chat while waiting in a queue.

But I’m skipping ahead, there were five more days lost in the time warp… After Tomas Harley’s house we parked overnight in the trucks car park at the town of Upton on Severn. There was a very good supermarket, called Warners, next door and we stocked up on English pies. Afterwards we dined out at an Indian restaurant. The restaurant was located in an old low ceilinged house with beams and looked out on the narrow high street. It was while we were eating that I spotted a ginormous tractor and combine harvester holding up the traffic. By ginormous I mean the height of a two story house on this street. It reminded me of my childhood. In our town farm life got along with town life. Even though we lived on a street where there was plenty of through traffic going to Dublin or Cork, the cows still had to be milked. Twice a day the farmer (can’t remember his name, was it Mr. Roach?) who lived on this street walked his cows home for milking.

Summary: Thomas Harley is not Thomas Hardy. The countryside has always been very peaceful, unless you were a servant waiting for the linens to dry. Volunteering is alive and well in Britain. Tesco is a great place to meet new people. Farming is big here. Query: Do you have any hacks for remembering dates in history?

Don’t forget the time difference

September 15, 2023September 14, 2023 | Mairead

We stayed in the car park of a pub in Pentraeth in lashing rain. It was an old pub, they did food and we could park the van overnight if we bought a meal and gave them £5 extra. We had left Dublin Port with sun shining on us just four hours previous but the rain was only temporary. Next morning the sun was back and I went off to the petrol station to buy stamps at the post office.

Right beside the gents toilet at Dublin Port there’s this handy guide to your duty free allowances between Ireland and Britain. The surprising thing is they’re different…

It’s only a few hours away but things are different here. First there’s the money and I don’t just mean that it’s pounds and not euros, the notes are not made of paper. They have a lovely matt springy feel, are very clean and they are see through! Then there’s the time, I know what you’re thinking… I didn’t think there was a time difference either but there is.

At the petrol station the post office is on the same counter as the groceries but there’s a different cash register. I stood there for a few moments wondering what the procedure might be and then went ahead and asked the grocery cashier if I could buy stamps. He said he didn’t know what time it opened at and called to a lady stacking shelves… she said it opened at 9am.

I was delighted, it was exactly 9am – how lucky am I? Unfortunately, the lady stacking shelves didn’t know the time so asked the grocery cashier who said it was five to nine and she replied, it won’t be open until nine and went back to shelf stacking. What? But… I sort of mumbled as I pointed to my phone but my heart wasn’t in it, I stood back to consider my life choices.

At exactly 9.05am a different customer approached the post office bit of the counter and purchased his stamps. I dashed up after him in case it closed again at 9.06.

Summary: there’s a 5 minute time difference between Ireland and Wales; the money is see through; you can bring 48 litres of beer with you but only 16 litres back. Query: Could anyone help? Neither of us know how to change the time on our phones by five minutes.

Travel stories

all is well