A Trip to Ireland, Epilogue.

A Trip to Ireland, Epilogue.

Summing Up

I enjoyed that. Would I go again? To Ireland yes. To Dublin? Not without a specific reason. I’m glad I went. I feel that I’ve seen what I needed to though. I’d be more likely to take a car across next time (should there be a next time) and explore the south and west of the country. Belfast and the north is another possibility.

The Irish people I met were largely welcoming and friendly. Food was good and the Guinness… well obviously that goes without saying. With the one particular exception it was reasonably priced too.

Getting around, particularly in the Dublin area was dead easy with the Leap Card. The train from Rosslare to Dublin was ridiculously cheap compared to a similar journey in the UK. The ferry experience was far less stressful than I thought it might be. I chose Stena Line partly because of timing but also they were considerably cheaper than Irish Ferries - by almost a third.

On the subject of money

From walking out of my front door to returning to it my spending was as follows:

My hotels cost £837.72

Transport costs (Ferry, Train, and Bus) totalled £261.13

Food and Drink came to £194.90 (no, that wasn't mostly Guinness 😜 )

I make that a grand total of £1293.75

Which looks like a big number (because it is) but of course that’s not all extra expenditure, I’d still have eaten and drunk if I’d been at home and almost certainly travelled by public transport or car too.

I could probably have taken a package holiday on an aeroplane to somewhere stupidly hot with a beach for less. Frankly I’d rather stick pins in my eyes. I’ve done the package holiday thing once, a week on the Algarve in August 2005 - it was her idea not mine. Too bloody hot for me although the place is nice enough. (Actually it's lovely)

The thirty Euros in notes that I brought back from Portugal have now been on a round trip to Ireland as well 😂

And Finally

Having trouble sleeping? Here are 260 photos from my trip for you to look at. 

Either here on Flickr (opens in a new page) or as a slide show below if your viewer supports it.

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.