Travelogue
During my travels, I usually collect three or four personal accounts which I then recount in emails to friends. And since they find them very entertaining, I reckoned you might too. A travelogue is born.
From: Ilse
To: Harold F.
Date: 7 October 2007
Subject:The more haste, the less speed
That sounds bad, I guess weatherwise I made the right decision traveling to Ireland then. And no, didn’t get sea sick. Knock on wood, I am one of those lucky dogs that never do.
So far, this has been an adventurous trip already. I set off a tad late yesterday. On my way to the 2:30 p.m. ferry in Fishguard, I visited the remains of Carreg Cennen castle. Between the late departure, the winding roads and the remoteness of the castle, I only had half an hour to explore this little disappointing but beautifully located echo from the past.
Unfortunately my Carreg Cennen field trip was also when my car started falling apart. With still thirty miles to go, every time I tried to shift gear or even push down the pedal, I heard a terrible squeaky sound. And a little later, there was no getting into any gear at all. So, running late for the ferry, I just let the car run free going downhill and use that speed to go uphill again. Anything to stay in fifth gear.
Try that, while yielding for any traffic on the many roundabouts. Try that, when the elderly couple in front of you is “cruising” their convertible and strictly abiding by speed limits. Or when, with another car right behind you, your clutch jams. I can only imagine the panic of the driver behind me, when I hit the alarmlights, slowed down, really stepped on the accelerator and - with a fine burning smell in my nostrils – got the (…) to work. I made it to the harbour in time.
The crossing of the Irish sea was wonderful. I hoped cooling the beast down would solve the problem. As I entered Ireland, I found my prayers had not been answered. Nonetheless I made it to the Coral Gables Guesthouse. The owner was helpful, but only as far as it would help herself. She arranged for 'Len the AA man' to come over and inspect my car. In his expert opinion – ‘AA’ in this case has nothing to do with substance abuse – the pressure plate and clutch had gone to smithereens. Once this part was replaced, I'd have no problem continuing my trip.
Saturday morning my hostess pressed me to find another B&B for the night because of her own holiday plans. I then made the capital mistake of informing other guests of the imminent guesthouse closure, information she had given me without restrictions. After that, she just growled at me. I found accomodation in John Leader’s St. Martin’s B&B. At noon I checked in into a fine room, with a hearty welcome, lots of good advice and free WiFi. Being informed of my car problems, John arranged for a local car mechanic with the – on hindsight – promising name “Goldsmith”, to come down, diagnose and tow my car away for repairs. A true ambassador for hospitality, John then offered a ride to Wexford for a short sightseeing and helped me rent a car at a reasonable price.
Like the weather – apparently very un-irish – things are starting to look up. I’ll be sightseeing today and tomorrow, I’ll get back to you when I am leaving for the soutwest. Or any time sooner if I happen upon your leprechaun ...
Ilse