Christmas in pictures....

Hi all. I hope you have recovered from the festivities...

The weather has been suprisingly mild, and may even have been better in London than in Christchurch, Wellington and Vinegar Hill. So, perhaps it wasn't so bad to be in the northern hemisphere? Especially since I had a great time with our houseguests.

This is Denise, Alicia, Nichola, Me, Gerry 1, Gerry 2 and Kelly on Christmas night:


Shortly thereafter the champagne was popped, and Trinidadian rythyms filled the air. We got merrier and merrier and merrier and then the kitchen became a dance floor...


(You can thank me for the photos I am not showing.... I am one of those people for whom Soca is a mysterious and tragic dance invention. T'was not intended for this white girl!)

On the other hand, I am an amazing housewife:



God bless the Edmonds Cookbook.

Escape to Dublin – part 2

On Sunday morning I found myself in my coldest northern hemisphere day yet – not only was it about 5’ but the wind was devastating. Trying my best to toughen up and make the most of my time I wandered towards the old part of town. First stop was Trinity College, which had a mixture of Georgian and Victorian buildings as well as some picturesque lawns with statues. I was amazed how spacious it felt once inside the front gates, although the city’s noise and smell were doing its best to encroach on the tranquillity of it all.

Passing through Temple Bar for a second time, I discovered that Dublin Castle is only open from 2pm on the weekends. The Castle is surrounded with ‘newer’ buildings (still Georgian!) so it cannot be seen from the main road. However, the diagrams and maps at the compound gates gave me fair idea of the massive structure I was missing out on, so I am resolved to return and see it another day.

Strolling onwards I decided to walk the rest of the main road up to Christ Church Cathedral, mainly because it would be warm inside. On the way I passed the Irish People’s Movement (or somesuch) headquarters, which had rather cool representations of historical workers' rights figures in all forty windows:


(This says "The Irish Republic guarantees religious and civil liberties, equal rights, equal opportunities to all citizens.")

I found the Cathedral and actually decided against going in. I could see from the outside it was very much like the other Christchurch Cathedral with which I am so familiar. Instead, I chose a different route back to the main centre and on the way I couldn’t help but notice these ornamental curiosities on one of the bridges:



Yep, those are horses with flippers and tails.

By then it was nearing 9:30 and Dublin was finally starting to wake up. I strolled the shopping district and marvelled at the contrast between posh shopping centres lining an alley which is filled with tacky market stalls. I was feeling a bit sad that the extent of my Christmas shopping was already on its way to Aotearoa, and there was no-one over here for whom I could buy something gorgeous. Sigh…

However, I had a visit to look forward to. My friend April had suggested I get in touch with her friend Keay who is a medieval archaeologist in south County Dublin. Wonderful Keay had offered to show me around her village and help me sample some of the atmosphere. Dalkey (pronounced Dorky) was a really important trading and invading area during the Viking period, and there are plenty of ruins and pathways and that sort of thing.

Once I met Keay off the train we wandered into Dalkey and through to Dun Laoghaire (pronounced Dun Leary) to visit a castle. It was a much smaller building than I expected, but there were some pretty cool features – like a ‘murder hole’ above the doorway that allowed residents to drop boiling oil or fire arrows on any invaders. I get the feeling Keay has been to this place a hundred times, but she was very indulgent of me, and even took my photo up on the battlements:


We then took a stroll through the posh part of Dun Laoghaire before we found a market in the People’s Square. It was too cold for most sellers to be out, but there was an enormous organic vegetable stall staffed by an army of local hippies, (and selling feijoas!). Keay and I sat down to enjoy the best falafel kebabs ever before venturing more into the civic part of town to a café called Henry’s that is as New Zealand a place as I will probably ever find, even if it is run by a Polish guy. The hot chocolates came with marshmallows(!), but they didn’t do soy :-(, so I consoled myself with a deliciously warm raspberry scone whilst Keay shared her photos from April’s wedding.

From there it was getting late, and somehow even colder, so I bid farewell to lovely Keay. Then it was a case of train, bus, plane, train, tube, overland train, bed. Zzzzzzzzzz.

Overall, I didn’t actually think much of Dublin. The trips to Belfast and Dalkey were good, but the rest was a bit boring. Dublin feels like London, and isn’t particularly attractive. The weather didn’t help, but even so there just wasn’t much ‘zing’ in the city. Nevermind, I am glad to have seen the place, and am still meaning to go back once again for the Castle.

But, I think my favourite Irish thing of all (or at least half-Irish) is this:



This is my cousin’s son Ronan. He is yummy and fun and one of my favourite things about London.

So, for the next while I will be staying in the City and just chilling out and hopefully spending some time with my family. I have a few Christmas things planned but am mostly looking to relax and recover from an amazing year.

I probably won’t blog again until after Christmas, so Happy Holidays !!!!!!

Escape to Dublin - Part I

People who have never flown to Wellington might have thought the flight to Dublin was bad, but I was fine! Arriving was pretty cool, as the main street was bustling with activity and all the Christmas lights were up in very tasteful blues and white. Having worked a really mad day I was keen to find my hostel bed and fall into it, and that only took another 40 minutes.

The next day I enjoyed an early Irish breakfast (don’t tell the locals, but it’s just like an English one!) before climbing on my tour coach to Belfast. Sadly, the PaddyWagon had no heating, so it was a cold collection of nine girlies who headed North. The first stop was a place called Drogheda, which is best known for holding the hung, drawn and quartered remains of St Oliver Plunkett – a martyred Catholic archbishop. After the rather unique bonding experience of seeing his head, most of the group started chatting to each other and it wasn’t long before the trip got more bearable.

We then stopped at Monasterboice – which is a monastic ruin from the 10th century. It was quite a solemn place, although the sun was coming up so it was breathtaking as well – beautiful paddocks and autumn trees amongst old, old, old rocks and moss:


There is a local legend that if a couple can touch fingers around one of the three scriptural crosses they will live happily ever after. I gave it a go, but something was missing…


(Never mind, she’ll be here in January…)

From there it was an uneventful drive across the border into Belfast. The van hadn’t got any warmer, but I found a quick stroll outside was enough to make the van thermal in comparison. Ireland is COLD!!!!

From the van we swapped to a Black Taxi tour around the divided Belfast neighbourhoods. I had been looking forward to this very much, and it was as interesting and sobering as I expected. The first stop was a Protestant estate, and the murals that come up so often in the news:


We spent some time reading the messages, and our guides gave some really good insights into the history of the conflict. I knew a bit from my reading, but saw for the first time that religion has really become an excuse for what is actually a fight about nationhood and class.

After 1690 William of Orange punished the disloyal Irish by confiscating their land and giving it to British loyalists, who immigrated especially to take up the cause. Of course, this put many Irish families into poverty and started the whole horrid cycle. It is plainly apparent to me that by making this about religion, the British government can avoid any connection to the conflict (i.e. how can a secular government be responsible for a religious squabble?). Not good enough.

Of course, the bad has been on both sides. Our tour stopped at a fifteen foot high wall built to protect the Catholic sector of Belfast:


People are invited to write their own peace messages on the wall (a la Berlin I suppose). Amongst the serious stuff, I liked this one (sorry Mum):


We then crossed into the other part of the city, past gates that are closed from 7pm to 7am every day, and all day during the religious marching season. Once inside we visited Sinn Fein headquarters and tried to keep warm walking around in the really pale sunshine.

We then had a three hour lunch break, so myself and my two tour buddies Lavinia (London) and Elza (Cape Town) decided to have a beer in the oldest pub in Belfast – the Crown. The National Trust runs this place – which keeps the prices down and the interior authentic. It was nice and warm inside, and we had a fantastic Irish stew that tasted like it had been simmering all day, and washed it down with the obligatory Guinness. Yum.

Somehow the outside air seemed less horrid after that, and exploring the European Food Market that had spring up around City Hall was a very pleasant experience. We drank German mulled wine and shared French waffle thingees before deciding we had better do a bit more ‘Irish’ stuff. So, the three of us visited the interior of the Hall and took photos of the staircase just because it was the model for the one in the Titanic (yawn!).

There was just enough time left to pose for a photo. Lavinia (on the left) and Elza in front of the market:


After that it was a cold three hour drive back to Dublin. I had a half hour shower to warm up, and then met up with Elza and her roommate Syliva (Hungary) for a stroll around Temple Bar. This is where all the tourists go, so was fairly boring. But we found another lovely pub and enjoyed a warm fire and good food before saying goodbye at 11pm.

To be continued….