A Trip to Ireland, Chapter 5.

A Trip to Ireland, Chapter 5.

15th May 2026

With unusual foresight I’d arranged a late (until 1400hrs) checkout from the Beresford Hotel, thereby avoiding having to hang around the city haunting coffee shops or bars while awaiting the time to come to go to my ferry. So I had a lie in. Then I got up, showered, packed my backpack and checked the times of the number 53 bus to Dublin Ferry Port. Several times. Checked the weather forecast for both Dublin and Holyhead. Inconclusive. I went out and got something for lunch and something for later on since I was unsure what if anything would be open after eight in the evening in Holyhead.

About half past one I checked out of the hotel and walked across the road to the Busáras (Bus Station) and checked the departure boards for route 53. It wasn’t there. I checked the timetable again, it definitely said it went from Busáras. Slightly concerned I asked two Bus Éireann guys leaning against the office wall where it departed from. “Ah, that’ll be from outside, go back the way you came in, turn left, left again an’ sure you’ll see the bus stop.” I went out the way I’d come in, turned left, then left again and was relieved to find a bus stop. I was even more relieved after several minutes when “53 Dublin Ferryport” appeared on the upcoming departure display. TFFT. If you are looking for the 53 to the Ferryport although everything online says it departs from “Busáras” the actual stop name seems to be “Beresford Place, Busáras” and it’s at the junction of Beresford Place and Memorial Road. This has been a Public Service Announcement.

I got to use my Visitor Leap card on a bus just once and after half an hour that bus dropped me somewhere in the middle of Dublin Ferryport on a street called Alexandra Road Extension. I headed in what I hoped was the right direction and then spotted a “pedestrians” sign pointing through the barriers around some roadworks which led to the Stena Line Departures shed. I checked in for boarding around 90 minutes before departure, found a comfy seat in the Passenger Lounge and fire up my Kindle. A short while later two uniformed Customs Officers and a drug-sniffing spaniel came round. Fido found one passenger of particular interest so he was taken away, presumably for the full “Moon River” treatment, he then returned to pick up his case and vanished again, returning just in time for boarding. To the obvious relief and some amusement of his travelling partner.

Boarding once again was by bus so by the time the foot passengers were aboard and I got to the Stena Plus lounge (worth the £20 upgrade) those in their own vehicles had snaffled all the best seats, particularly those next to the large portholes. I settled for a comfortable tub chair within easy striking distance of the complementary drinks and snacks and got out my Kindle again. By the time our scheduled departure at 1630 hrs arrived it was apparent that we were already under way, slipping out of Dublin Ferryport and heading east across the Irish Sea. The Stena Plus Lounge was very civilised, helped by having a “no under 8s” policy. Judging by the snoring at least one person found the ambience very restful. A text message alerted me to the fact that my phone had roamed onto the ships ultra-expensive 5G so I connected to the onboard WiFi instead. It wasn’t fast enough to do anything useful but at least prevented the roaming charges. Faster WiFi was available obviously, if you paid for it. I had no need but there were a lot of laptops in use. Not everyone on board was on holiday.

Disaster at Sea! Both of the very fancy hot drink machines started playing up. Thanks to the valiant efforts of the crew in persuading them back into action a mutiny was avoided. Not that the coffee was particularly good - it was still mechanical coffee. Fortunately there was also every flavour of Tango in the fridge. Does Tango prevent scurvy? 😀

Blimey, are we here already? That voyage passed quickly!

Of course there was half an hour’s hanging around in a corridor waiting for a bus to disembark the foot passengers. While we waited some dimwit filled the time giving the third degree to the “drug spaniel’s best friend”. Who was very restrained considering how long the dimwit carried on and on about it. I thought, “you should fucking let it go before you end up with a thick ear” 🙄

Once off the boat I headed directly to the Travelodge - it was the only place available when I made my travel bookings. I say directly but the direct route would have been via the covered footbridge from the station but that appears to be permanently shut. Instead it was up one road, over the railway, back along the other side, and turn 180 degrees again to walk to the hotel. I checked in. I came out again in search of sustenance and walked into the town. Oh Wales! So much lovely scenery, so many grim towns. I popped into a pub which I’ll not name for a swift pint. While I waited to get served one of the “happy” clientele regaled me with, “My you’re tall isn’t it how tall are you but it’s a pint are you taller than me I think he’s taller than me what if I take my hat off?!” Dear oh dear, how come I find them wherever I go? I suspect Ynys Mon has a limited gene pool 😏

I couldn’t face going to the bar again so just had the one and then picked up a Chinese Takeaway on the way back to the hotel. £14.25. They only accepted cash. I couldn’t even offload any of the twenty-year old Euros I’d carried all round Ireland but never needed because everywhere accepted contactless. Fortunately I also had UK cash.

Back in my room I noticed that the unnecessary convector heated had a red flashing LCD display and read “ERROR 20”. The 21st century is overly complicated. I turned it off at the socket outlet. When I turned it back on in the morning it did the same thing. I left it flashing away merrily.

16th May 2026

Leapt out of bed and across the room to turn off the alarm on my phone because it hasn’t occurred to Travelodge that anyone might need a socket next to the bed. Or a bedside table for that matter, only a 6” x 4” x 8” niche. Made a cup of tea, had a shower, and packed. No hair drier but honestly after a week of soft Irish water my hair’s doing whatever it wants anyway 😳

I checked out - well chucked my card over the unoccupied reception counter - and took the zig-zag route back to Holyhead Railway station, this time finding the slight shortcut via the Stena staff car park.

Holyhead Station is split in two. Platform 1 is on the through lines that pass under the closed footbridge. Platforms 2 and 3 are in a long curved train shed and are terminating platforms leading straight into the ferry terminal. Platform 3 has no tracks, a fence along the platform edge and appears to serve only as a pedestrian access to the car park and bus stop outside. A large indoor waiting area links platforms 1 and 2 but is “locked until further notice”, which I think explains the closed footbridge too.

The long curved train shed is obviously designed to accommodate the long and busy “boat trains” of yesteryear. What turned up on this Saturday morning at 0923 was a two coach Class 158 diesel multiple unit.

Around ten or twelve of us boarded at Holyhead. I got a coast side seat at a table by a window. Winning!

By the time we’d stopped at the next two stations the train was full and standing. Several parties were on their way to Chester for a Saturday out out and the beer and Prosecco had been cracked open by 10 a.m. We passed through the station with the longest made-up-for-the-tourists name in the world and picked up even more passengers. People were struggling to board, the train guard could only move from one carriage to the other by getting off and walking down the platform and getting back on. Ticket checks? Not happening. Anyone wanting the toilet better be able to hold it in for an hour. What on earth do Transport for Wales think they’re doing? We arrived at Chester, the train emptied out. Two more carriages were attached and we left for Birmingham. Welcome to Normal Island.🫨

With a bit more space to move I brought out the vegan felafel wrap I’d brought with me from Dublin for lunch. Filled a hole but mostly lacking in flavour. I arrived at Birmingham New Street with plenty of time in hand to catch the 1400 CrossCountry service to Reading. I can’t ride on CrossCountry’s plastic toy Voyager trains in standard class and still have the use of my legs when I reach my destination. Also they’re hellish at the weekend, akin to the Welsh train to Chester. Fortunately I’d bagged a couple of 1st class singles, split at Banbury for a reasonable number of pounds so had a nice solo seat, albeit facing the wrong way, and nice young ladies bringing me complementary tea, pretzels, and cake. Alas no sandwiches at the weekend 😢

We arrived only two minutes late at Reading with half an hour until my train home departed. I arrived home at five o’clock.

Six days, two boats, eleven trains, one bus. One enjoyable adventure and less stressful than I’d feared.

The fridge is empty, better go shopping.

A Trip to Ireland, Chapter 1.

A Trip to Ireland, Chapter 1.

I have somehow reached my seventh decade without ever visiting the island of Ireland.  I thought I should put that right. I don’t do airline travel so I went by train and boat, meaning I paid a visit to Swansea on the way and a very brief visit to Holyhead on the way back.

10th May 2026

I like to travel as light as I can so at 1100 on a Sunday morning I hefted a 40 litre backpack onto my shoulders and walked to the railway station to catch my first train. This took me to Reading where I changed onto a GWR IET to Swansea. Amazingly both these trains ran on time, quite an achievement for GWR, particularly at the weekend. No one could claim that this was a comfortable ride since the seats on these trains were never designed to be comfortable and are now after some years use quite knackered. I arrived in Swansea at about half past two, too early to check into my hotel so I went for a walk down the High Street to get a coffee and to see what had changed since my last visit in 2019 prior to riding the Heart of Wales railway line to Shrewsbury. I discovered that Castle Square was now a large building site behind hoardings and that Turtle Bay restaurant had closed down so no curried goat for me tonight.

The Grand Hotel is an Art Deco landmark right opposite the railway station so I’d have no trouble getting my train the next morning. It’s also an easy walk to the city centre which would give me something to do that evening. I checked in and was given a nice room on the second floor overlooking the station, despite which it wasn’t noisy.

I settled in, had a cuppa, had a sit down for a while then headed back out for the evening, walking down to the marina and then the beach, along the prom in the evening sunshine, and back into the city centre where I succumbed to the temptations of Taco Bell because it was cheap and easy. Don't @ me.

Once fed I went down to the River Tawe and then back up to the castle and to a nearby bar, Sessions by Mumbles Brewery. Very nice local beers and what’s that you say? Buy one get a second free because it’s still Happy Hour? Oh well, if you insist 😀

Some of Swansea’s finest, who had obviously been on it all day started kicking off. Not sure who upset who but eventually there were five of them all threatening one who they’d decided had upset one of the women and much squaring up and reddening of tattooed necks ensued. A couple of private security people were summoned by radio and the cabaret was curtailed. I finished my free pint and returned to the hotel, on the way passing a tattoo parlour which had a life-sized cardboard cut-out of the actor Warwick Davis inside the doorway and I have no idea why? 

11th May 2026

After a very comfortable night’s sleep I showered, dressed, packed, and checked out with plenty of time to grab some food for the day’s travels before catching the 1104 train to Fishguard Harbour. I had a brief moment of panic entering the station because I couldn’t find my ticket but it had secreted itself inside my wallet when I’d put it in my pocket. Phew!

The station announcer at Swansea that Monday morning seemed to have had too much sugar, peppering his announcements with a variety of funny voices, accents, and inflections. Way too happy for a Monday. The train arrived and I managed to get a seat on the left facing forwards, which would get the best views as we wound our way along the south Pembrokeshire coast before turning north to cross the peninsula to Fishguard. At Fishguard Harbour station the platform is adjacent to the Stena Line terminal, in fact the station is the ferry terminal, no chance of getting lost between train and boat.

I checked in and obtained my “Boarding Card” and “Stena More Members Card”, both actually just flimsy pieces of till-roll paper and took a seat to wait for further instructions. Through the window I could see the boat moored alongside bearing a large three-legged cross with the words “Isle Of Man Steam Packet Company” around it emblazoned on its side. Because Stena Line’s usual vessel was in dock being repaired we would be travelling on a borrowed boat, the somewhat smaller Ben My Chree. (Stena have since sent me an unexpected 20% discount code for any Fishguard-Rosslare or Holyhead-Dublin sailing if I travel before April 27th next year as recompense for not having the usual ship.) 

The only way to get foot passengers aboard was using a minibus to drive us the 100m or so from terminal to ship. Which meant all those who’d driven their own vehicles aboard had got first dibs on the seats while we were still in the terminal. I went up on deck to watch as we left port and for the first time since 2007 I left the UK mainland (if you don’t count the Isle of Wight).

It was breezy but not cold, actually quite pleasant when the sun came out if a little noisy with the exhaust stack adjacent to the public outside deck, so I remained on deck along with quite a few others for the whole crossing. Eventually most of the alarms on the expensive cars below stopped sounding. Except for the big Audi SUV. When I made a brief visit to the heads I discovered that inside the ship was quite as chaotic as I expected and had the weather prevented staying on deck it would have been bloody awful. Three and a bit hours later I got my first sight of Ireland, it was much smaller than I expected:

Oh, but that’s just Tuskar Rock, a ship’s graveyard six nautical miles off the Wexford coast which has 176 shipwrecks listed around it and one Vickers Viscount airliner. The rest of Ireland was appearing off the starboard bow. Another half an hour passed, we arrived in Rosslare Europort and the ship was neatly reversed into a parking spot alongside the seaward jetty ready for us to disembark. 

Which took ages for us foot passengers as once again we waited for shuttle buses. The bus took us on a great loop through the port to Immigration where an Irish Customs lady checked our documents (I’d blown the dust off my passport, not strictly needed because of the UK & Ireland Common Travel Area but I’ve no other photo ID). Then the bus drove all the way back around the port to the terminal building where we were turfed off to make our own way out. I followed the pedestrian signs out of the port, climbed the long steep steps up to the RNLI lookout cabin since it looked like the shortest way and then through the town? village? of Rosslare Harbour to my B&B, Ferryport House. I had a warm welcome from Sue, who pointed out where I’d be able to get food, although I’d already scoped out the local chippy on my way from the port, the facilities of the hotel. She supplied a large bottle of chilled water, explaining that the water in the taps is drinkable but comes from their borehole so I might prefer bottled, handed me my keys and pointed my towards my first floor room. The room was large, the whole place was spotless, the view was of the backs of the semi-detached houses in the next road but who cares for one night, and there was a generous supply of tea, coffee and milk which would put most chain hotels to shame.

Having limited time in Rosslare I had a cuppa and then headed out to explore. First stop Tuskar Takeaway the chippy I’d spotted earlier. I had a Fish Box Meal, fresh fish in batter with homemade tartare dip and mushy peas, chips & drink for €14.95 (£12.95) was good value and delicious. I ate it on a bench in the evening sunshine overlooking the Europort and overlooked by a noisy beady-eyed and ultimately disappointed Black Headed Gull which was perched on top of a lamp post.

I watched Ben My Chree leave harbour and a small sailing fishing boat pass by heading north and then I went in search of what turned out to be a rare commodity in Rosslare Harbour - a litter bin. Having eventually found one and responsibly disposed of my takeaway box I walked down to Rosslare Harbour “town centre”. This is mostly the SuperValu supermarket whose building also contains a cafe/pizzeria, the Post Office, a pharmacy, hairdressers, and a dog grooming parlour. On the other side of the road was a petrol station with a convenience store and “The Dock Boutique Hotel, bar, and eatery”. What there wasn’t was a proper pub. I consulted the map. The Kilrane Inn, in the village of Kilrane 15 minutes walk down the road. Off I went. My first pint of Guinness in Ireland, it had to be done. At €5.80 (£5.02) it would also prove to be my cheapest pint of Guinness in Ireland.

Suitably refreshed I walked back to my B&B as the sun set over County Wexford. I was a little confused on opening the door to my room to find the TV was playing. It hadn’t been when I left so either it was switched on but on a channel that wasn’t broadcasting when I went out or I’d had a visit from a Leprechaun while I was out.☘

I slipped into the largest most comfortable bed in the world and slept like a log.

The next day I’d be in Dublin…