Trip to Galway, Aran, and back again
Oct. 28th, 2005 10:40 amWell, I got to sleep at about 5:30 am, so urgh. However, Linnea did cheer up immensely once we invited her back into our bed and let her play on us for hours. She dropped off about 12:30 I think, and stayed pretty much asleep as long as she was nursing. A lot hinges on today's nap.
Radegund and I spent all night up chatting and knitting, of course. Then we all got up in the morning, and she walked with us part of the way to Heuston Station. I marched the rest of the way with Linnea and the buggy and the backpack; it took about 45 minutes fully laden. I was privileged to see some appalling driving - lots of lights-breaking, several illegal left turns, that sort of thing. Nothing that actually caused an accident. When we reached Heuston Station I bought a ticket from a machine (technology! The biggest delay in that station used to be the seperate queues for the two ticket desks, only one of which would be able to handle plastic payments on a given day, which was almost always my fault) and changed my tshirt. It was a warm morning, I'm still allergic to every antiperspirant known to man, I dislike the idea of antiperspirants anyway - regular washing and clean clothes seems to work, for me.
Then I found somewhere making up sandwiches fresh, and had them create a masterpiece of dairy-free edibility, and bought a cup of tea which I lost somehow, and a piece of fruit. And a pack of crisps. and then I sat by the platform entrance and played with baba. It's important to be near the platform entrace because the queue to board the train cam form up to 30 minutes before the train is due to depart. Rob and I have stood 50th in the queue for 20 minutes before now, with a straggly waggly toddler and a trolley full of luggage. Linnea and I made to to the very very top, and I spent 20 minutes looking at a poster advertising the new Fast Ticket machines; caption: "Daddy, what's a queue?"
Oh, it is to laugh!
We boarded the train with cheer and chatting and had a delightful journey including but not limited to:
- Drawing
- Looking at horses, birds, tractors and cows out the windows - leftover British Rail stock moves more slowly than the new stuff they use in England
- Knitting
- Tea-parties
- Lunch
- Listening to music
- Napping
- Nursing
- Walking up and down the carriage chatting to people
- Saying "Oh, wow, wossat?" to stimulate conversation
We prepped for disembarkation and when the train stopped I leaned out the window, opened the door, and backed off onto the platform. I can manage rucksack, buggy, nappy bag, bag of toys, and baby in the buggy with ease, flair and panache. My mother was veyr, very impressed.
Linnea said "Nana!"
We went for lunch, since I wasn't sure Linnea had eaten enough on the train, and found chips and sausages in a Kylemore Cafe. I pointed at mum and said "Who's that?" and Linnea said "Nana!" again, so it wasn't coincidence, just further proof of genius. She wasn't saying it when we last met my mother, three months ago.
The ferry trip wasn't very exciting either, apart from the floor being all wobbly and the in-flight entertainment, as it were, being a DVD of The Wolfe Tones, who make me angry (again complete with warning, licensed for home use screen). But when we got to the house Linnea was obviously pleased to be back.
Linnea started to say "Morning" the first day we woke up there. Also, "Nana up!" She knew where she was - remembered where she was, clearly, demonstrably. So we started each day by visiting Nana in her bedroom, then having porridge.
"Morning" got such a good reaction that she uses it at intervals throughout the day, in case it has multiple applications.
We visited the horses waiting for tourists at the foot of the fort. We went to the town on the bus, visited the library, and got a horse and trap ride almost all the way back - but we got out at the seal-watching point and watched seals. There are more swans on the lake than we're used to because some have emigrated from Greenland. Seals sit like great black bananas on rocks just under the surface of the water, which looks most peculiar.
Linnea adored the trap ride so much that the driver kept wanting to take us a little farther on, and a little farther on, for free. When I did pay him he tried to claim it was too much.
She brought us for a long walk up the lane to pick blackberries (Nyum!) and got her ankles torn to shreds, though she didn't care. She found a big stick which she carried along the rest of the walk. She met some cows. She learned to get into the side of the road and stand absolutely still against the grass when a bus comes and she does this unprompted now - I turn to say "Bus!" and she's already there, looking wary. She sat on the swing in the tree and held on and was pushed - with no safety harness or anything. She hauled on a rope hanging from a branch like the bell-ringer of Notre Dame, only with far more sense of the importance of her task.
And I almost finished the body of her cardigan, taught myself to knit buttonholes, and read three books I'd brought with me and one I found there (I do love Monica Dickens). I bought a set of about eight sets of bamboo needles in a roll-up holder for less than 18UKP which was a bargain. I like bamboo needles.
This was the first trip where she spoke to Daddy on the phone and they had actual conversations - she told him about the Orse and the Dow and Meemee and the T'ain and all.
He even understood some of it.
The return trip was pretty straightforward as far as Dublin. Radegund and I sat up until after 2 talking, though, which was daft. But Donal and Glitz were there, and Donal had a copy of my book! He wanted me to SIGN IT. I have given my first booksigning session. I am now an internationally famous author (well I am, you've heard of me, after all).
Radz gave Linnea a lovely lilac-grey-blue cardie which will fit her around December, if I guess correctly. It looks warm enough to do as a jacket for outdoor play in dry weather, in fact.