Starting on Saturday at 7am, we got most of the way to Limerick before I remebered my latest ommision. Where is my bumbag with my camera and jacket! It's in the living room. Oh dear, so I missed my train to Cork. Luckily there was another at 9 and my ticket was valid. A little stress there. The gate guard said he thought it was valid, but check at the desk. The desk had a queue of pensioners and I had only 10 mins before the train left. The line moved though and I caught the train, which looked like the same (British Rail 158 Class) train I got in Chester. Once aboard though, it was clearly not even related. This train, in contrast to the intercity I took from Dublin gave a rough and rickety ride out to Limerick junction, where I changed to a top of the line Dublin-Cork intercity. Very smooth and comfortable indeed, although the windows were tinted blues making my photos look odd. .
It got to Cork 30 mins before I expected. 10:45. I had booked a 'titanic trail' walking tour around nearby Cobh pronounced "cove" for 11, could I still make it? Cobh was the old port where irish emigration left from, including the Titanic I could just skip Cobh and look at Cork, but i looked out and wasn't tempted So when was the next train? Oh, 11. So I got there at 11:24. I hoped to catch up bit I didnt find the tour group, so I walked around by myself, catching the view from the Cathedral, the old Starline offices and the monuments to the Titanic and Lousitania. I had a look in the gift shop at the emigration heritage museum (no time go inside properly). They were selling little explanations of the meanings of Irish surnames and coats of arms and keyrings. In this place, where the train had to cross Lough Mahon and had an advert for a Mahon shopping centre, and the estate agent is Mahoney was there anything for Mahon? No. Nothing. There was McMahon though, which means bear if I remember right.
Anyway, the buses in Ireland are as scarce as the regional trains in France so I had to take my first of two expensive taxi journies to connect to the ferry. Cobh is on an island and I noticed there was a ferry short cut to south of Cork where the new port is. So I arranged for a taxi to pick me up on the other side.
The nearest train station was a good 10 mins brisk walk or so from the nearest train station and my guestimate of when to pick me up was out by 10 mins late. This wasn't helped by running the phone in airplane mode to save battery, although I turned it on for the pick up time. So on the other side... and no taxi. I called them up and they said they tried to contact me. Hmm, the operator probably took down the wrong number. Long and short of it; a taxi was dispatched and I got to the terminal in good time. €12 though, for what was only a trifle of a distance. Too far to walk in the time, but only a 15 min journey.
Cork's ferry terminal at Ringaskiddy is modern and clean. Also in port was what I think is the Fastnet ferry to Swansea. The little café was brewing coffee constantly for the French passengers and Netherlands vs Japan played silently on the tv. 2pm and boarding time arrrived. A queue surrounded by a scrum. I don't know how much of the scrum was French but I saw a few Briish passports in the queue.
I had seen the Pont Aven, Brittany Ferry's flagship cruiseship style ferry arrive while in Cobh and close up it was huge, but not nearly as big, it turned out as the real cruise ship 'Aurora' we passed, which was moored in Cobh. Up on the open deck, sailing out of Cork was quite magnificent. Cobh which looked OK from the ground, looked beautiful from the sea and the Aurora, which recieved a watercannon salute from to coastguard who were also in port added some glamour. I didn't take a picture with the iPhone. The digicam took some nice shots though, for later.
I managed to track just as we sailed off my Viewranger map.
The ship was a bit cruisehip style, so it had a lobby atrium, spiral staircase and swimming pool. All nice. One floor was all restaurants. The next ,bars and entertainment and below, 2 small cinemas. I had seen all the films on show already, so I watched, I think it was called Valentine. Obviously a "chick flick" and I was the only man in there, but it was good in a LA story everthing is connected sort of way.
Before and after the cinema I watched football matches in the bar area. No sound though. The sountrack was the cabaret act. Bad luck Cameroon, they looked great in the middle, just a bit hapless defending and scoring. The passengers were cheering on their former colony though. I was cheering Ghana against Australia. I was suprised their score-draw left them top of their group. Good luck against Germany.
I didn't have a cabin, I had a dreaded recling seat, but the lounge, despite being very noisy, and noisier later with snoring, was only about 10% full, so I slept a little in the chair, not sure how much, some on the floor of my row, and back in the chair. When I went to the loo I discovered there was only 1 hour to go, and before I got out, the 45min wake up call was made, all lights on. So I had a little rush to shower and no time for a proper breakfast but all done in time. Oh, the crossing was totally placid, like a dream and there was a lovely sunset and a red sun was peaking up as we docked in Roscoff.
At this point my camera tells me the battery is low, then dead. Already? So I retreated to the iPhone, which through careful use of airplane mode was on 75% battery, 24 hours later! That's good, by the way, if you don't have an iPhone.
Viewranger saved me again in Roscoff. I was going to meet a taxi at the tourist office at 7am and I got out of the port at 6.20am local time. But I nearly walked off in complempletly the wrong direction. Only a sense of too much suburbia let me to turn on the gps to direct me to the town centre. Unfortunately I did not have time to see, and it was too early anyway for, the Johnnie musuem. Apparently Johnnies is what French men on bicycles selling onions were called. You know the image, stripped shirt and a beret, they were Bretons from Brittany, and I think they and their bikes have been suceeded by truck drivers. Anyway. Roscoff, nice little port. Casino, winery, Irish pubs, not really my scene.
The taxi driver was exactly on time, at 7am and fairly quickly I was in Morlaix. Enough time that I decided to go to the town centre and start walking back at 8 am. And this taxi fare, because the first train from Roscoff didn't leave till late morning was €62! Heavens! I am oil shocked.
Morlaix is in a valley and there are 100 steps (more like 120) down from the station to the centre ville, at the base of the viaduct which carries the railway over the valley. I saw what happened to the river, which was nowhere apparent from photos I saw, it was buried in a storm channel and comes out just after the town centre. Not sure old old it was 17th century?
Down there I smelt out an open bakery. So I bought a baguette and a pastry. Not quite as cheap as Sainburys but tasty and fresh.
Back up and a slightly scruffy TGV arrived and I took my first class seat. But is there much difference to standard class. Apart from the seats, not much. On é va, Paris! 4 mins away!
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