Crossing the Irish Sea

When I told people at work that I was visiting Dublin for a long weekend, their first question was ‘Ferry?’ The answer, of course is yes, and so here I am blogging from a bright green Irish ferry (on my iPod, so it won’t get posted ’till I get back).
It was quite funny seeing the same crowd of people who got on at Birmingham over and over again, on two trains, a bus, and now finally the ferry.
We’re going to meet my brother and sister at the house (more on that later). I know they’ve arrived because Claire’s already told Facebook.
William suggested the trip, and Katie took about three seconds to decide to come along, immediately setting to work booking what looks like a beautiful house complete with grand piano, though I suspect we may be too busy sampling the famous Guiness to spend much time there.

Things are looking up now: Katie is no longer curled up fighting seasickness, and the child who threw a green spikey thing has stopped screaming… Oh no, I spoke too soon. Hold on a minute…

Still on the boat, now reading through the guides. The zoo apparently bred the lion which roars ar the start of MGM films.

I’m now writing from the Irish film institute on Saturday. I won’t bore you with all the details, but we’ve basically been rather unimaginably doing all the things that you’re meant to do in Dublin… Drinking Guinness, the guinness storehouse, the Kilmainham Gaol and admiring two pages of the book of Kells. Oh, and getting treated like an errant schoolboy in the Trinity college library.

The house where we’re staying is perhaps one of the main attractions with it’s Beckstein grand piano, wonky floors which no spirit level would condone. It’s a Georgian townhouse that has been faithfully restored (do I sound like an estate agent?) and as an added bonus probably costs about the same as staying in the novatel. Despite the warnings in the guestbook, it doesn’t appear to be haunted.