Hi,
Well, we’re here, sort of. It is Monday, about 11:20 p.m.
That’s 3:20 in the afternoon to you. The trip here was not horrible.
We had a fine flight from Seattle to Toronto.
A little tip for all you travelers (at least as from my limited experience
with Air Canada). Order a special meal. We ordered kids meals
and they came before anyone else’s meals. It was great for the kids
not to have to wait, but I also noticed the other special meals, low fat,
vegetarian, Celtic kosher etc. also came early. Anyway, got to Toronto.
Waited hours and hours and hours but met a nice party of 4 (people) from
Northern England as we were going through customs. There is one benefit
to bringing enough stuff to last 6 months. When the man in line ahead
of you at customs has a broken pair of eyeglasses, you have an eyeglass
repair kit to lend him! He was quite nice, a retired chemistry professor
who had been to the University of Illinois many years ago as a visiting
professor. Took off a bit late, like 20 minutes and there was no
tail wind across the pond. We wound up 30 minutes late into Heathrow.
We had a scheduled time in Heathrow of 90 minutes, 9:50 to 11:20.
Not exactly leisurely. But the reservation agent from Aer Lingus
assured me that our flight to Ireland would be in the same terminal.
Wrong. So 35 minutes late deplaning, bus to another terminal.
Wait for the metal detector. While Mark and the girls were going
through, Garth and I ran on ahead to find the Aer Lingus desk. Pushed
my way to the desk to find out if we could just check in at the gate (aren’t
Americans so rude!). Then we had to go through customs. So
many questions. And do you know how long it takes to stamp 5 passports?
Finally through that and on to our gate. So we see the signs:
Terminal 2 Gates 76 ? 90. Guess which one is ours. And no, 90 is
not the closest in. Garth and I again ran on ahead and left Mark
et. al. to follow on the myriad of moving sidewalks to the gate.
It was probably about a quarter of a mile’s worth of tunnels, moving walkways,
and the same little shops, selling newspapers and stuff with green shamrocks
printed on it. We arrived breathless and sweaty, but the plane was still
there. And they even waited for the rest of our party. Got
into Shannon a few minutes late. Who were those people holding up the plane
anyway?
Five of our 9 checked bags arrived with us into Shannon, which was
a good thing because we quite filled the taxi with just those. The
rest were sent to our hotel later. We had a bit of a nap and then
Mark went to look at a house while the kids and I had dinner. We
are staying at the Royal George Hotel, on O’Connell Street in downtown
Limerick. And I must say, when I was awakened at 3 a.m. by some of
the Limerick locals in the kind of state you might anticipate Limerick
locals to have been in at 3 a.m. if they were still up, I found it quite
charming. . It quickly lost its charm.
That Friday night was the low point. We spent Friday
trying to find a place to live. Rents are 200 to 250 pounds per month
higher than we had been told. That is if you can find someone willing
to rent to you for less than a year, or even less than 6 months.
Though we’ll be gone 6 months, we’ll only be in Limerick for five.
And the people at the University have not been exactly informative in telling
Mark what he will be doing. Anyway, I think the weeks of packing
and cleaning and days of traveling finally caught up with me. I spent
about 36 hours in a horrible blue funk. I think Mark thought if he
took his eyes off me for a minute he was going to find me on a plane back
home.
But 9:30 a.m. Sunday as we left 9:00 Mass, things were beginning to
look up. We went on a walk to find Frank McCourt’s home. I think
we were in the right neighborhood, but as with much of Limerick, it has
changed a bit in the last few years. Then we found a lovely park
with beautiful gardens. We also looked for the library but found
it closed. On Saturday we also went on a long walk, taking in St.
Mary’s Cathedral (Church of Ireland) built in 1168. It has the oldest
misericords (choir seats) in the Ireland and people come from all over
to see them. We also saw the famous Treaty Stone, site of the signing
of a treaty between the Irish Catholics and the British and you can imagine
how long that treaty lasted. We also went to the Saturday Market.
The McLaughlins, neighbors across the street from us in Seattle, had given
me the name of a former roommate of Bernie McLaughlin. Her name is
Paula and she owns a jewelry store a few blocks from our hotel. Wonderful
girl; She took Melinda and me out for a cup of tea (while Mark, Emm, and
Garth were out looking at another house) and mentioned that the Saturday
market might be a fun thing. Brilliant suggestion. It takes
place in the old Milk Market and the surrounding streets and is part flea
market, part farmer’s market, part communal closeout store. It was
quite fun.
Monday found Mark out early to look at another house and then to the
University. The kids and I took the bus there later in the morning.
They did fix him up in an office (no phone yet but our man Dermot will
take care of that and maybe an Internet connection tomorrow, so we are
hoping that that is how you are all able to receive this epistle - and
how he will come home with the current AL West standings (I’m in withdrawal)
and the results of last Wednesday’s offerings on CBS. My money’s
on Rudy. Was I right?
A very nice colleague of Mark’s drove us to look at a few houses.
As we chatted I mentioned my tale of my great great grandfather, James
Ahern, the cow thief, and he said most of those charges were made up by
the British (Are we sensing a pattern here?) and even if it was something
stolen, it was a sheep, not a cow. He was quite nice and drove us
around a bit. Mark stayed at the University and the kids and I bussed
it back to our hotel. Only to find our room open and all our personal
things either in our suitcases or in bags. Apparently, Mark’s request
to stay another night here had not been relayed to today’s staff and they
thought we were leaving today. That was a bit disconcerting.
But they brought the extra beds back to our room and here we are again
listening to the lovely sounds of O'Connell Street.
I miss you guys. I you get this e-mail you can either respond
to it, or try me at mroddyn3@juno.com. We’ll let you know as soon
as we get a house. We have one possibility, close to the kid’s school.
Let’s just hope the landlord will go for a 5 month let.
Talk to you later,
Love,
Mer
30 Aug 2000
Hi,
Well, I know Mark never got this mailed because he has been nowhere
near the university in the last 2 days. We have been busy.
Tuesday we got a call from the estate agent that the landlord was willing
to go for a 5 month let. So, we packed up our suitcases (I can already
tell we brought too much.) Then we
went to the bank to open an account. Then to Penney’s (not related
to J.C. but definitely could be) and to Dunne’s and back to Penney’s to
buy sheets and towels. Then to the estate agent’s to sign the papers.
Then wait and wait and wait for a taxi. Two taxi’s actually.
I told you we brought too much stuff. All the cars here are small
so 5 people and even 3 suitcases is a stretch but 10 are too much.
Anyway, the taxi drivers gave us a ride on some of the local shortcuts
(one-lane roads with many blind curves bordered by hedges and stone walls.)
But we arrived about 4:30. Still no car yet so it meant a quick walk
to a nearby minimart for dinner (about like a 7-11). We all got to
bed late but it was certainly nice to get away from the noise of O’Connell
Street.
[Mark’s aside regarding the noise on O’Connell Street: There are two principle kinds of noise on O’Connell street. The first is that of the inebriated local moving from one pub to the next (I say "local" because, first, there are very few tourists. Limerick, I gather, is pretty much the Cleveland of Ireland. When it is mentioned in the guidebooks, it is as a spot on the road between Galway and Cork. And second, those tourists who might happen to be in the city are confined with their three small children to the Royal George Hotel where they sit behind an exquisite dilemma: open the window the pitiful three inches allowed (The proprietor, no doubt fears that tourists would jump.) and endure the noise (I’m getting to the noise.) or keep it closed and sink gradually into sweaty heat exhaustion. But back to the first type of noise….) It seems that there is just one way to move from pub to pub. I have reached this conclusion after extensive and excruciating observation (albeit not ethnographic, yet). Upon exiting a pub and as you move on to the next you must shout, whistle, laugh very loudly, yell, bang something akin to a washtub with something akin to a street sign, or use an iron chain to drag an empty aluminum keg behind you. There is apparently no other way.
The second kind of noise has to do with the economy. Limerick’s and indeed Ireland’s economy is in a sustained upswing. They are building stuff everywhere all the time. (More on this when we describe our house.) This building requires the use of Many Large Trucks. The second noise then is that of trucks moving endlessly, restlessly and aimlessly up and down O’Connell Street at all hours (actually, Mary interjects here, only up as O’Connell Street is one way). Whereas the noise of the first kind is mostly confined to the period between 11pm and 3am, the Trucks know no time or season. They are Large. They are Trucks. And, strangely, they seem to be filled with alternating layers of loose boulders and sheet metal. There are also the noises of the sidewalk speakers, the noises of small motorcycles running at 5000 rpms in second gear, and noises of things that are breaking, but these are lesser noises and will not be treated here.]
Wednesday we got up and walked over to Monaleen School. That is
the nicest thing about this house, it is a 4 minute walk to the kids’ school.
This is especially wonderful since Melinda’s day will be an hour and a
half shorter than Emm’s and Garth’s. We met Ms. Mee, the principal.
Very, very efficient woman. No grass grows under her feet!
The school seems nice; we saw each of the kid’s classrooms. I forget
Emm’s and Garth’s teacher’s names, but Melinda’s is Miss Ahern. Do
you suppose she is related to my great great grandfather? Then we
took the bus into town to buy uniforms and books. Emmeline and Melinda
wear the Monaleen tracksuit (sweats, really) everyday, Garth only
on P.E. days, the other days he wears grey trousers, white shirt, maroon
jumper (pullover) and maroon tie (yes it’s a fakie). The stores were all
out of the tracksuits, however, so for a week or so the girls will be in
free dress. Book shopping was a bit difficult. Pricey little
things (or "dear" as we would say here), and we were unable to get a few,
and oh, the lines! But we made it through and then bussed it back
to the closest roundabout, which is about 1 km away from our house.
Quite a walk back with uniforms and books. The books appear to be
pretty rote workbooky types of things. Kind of a drill and kill approach
to math especially, but the reading doesn’t look too much more interesting.
Mark stopped and bought some groceries along the way. A real
dinner! And laundry detergent.
Figuring out new (foreign) appliances has been fun. Small front-loading
washer and small drier. The washing machine manual tells you to use
the appropriate amount of detergent. That adjective could have been
a bit more helpful. Still, an hour and 20 minutes later some damp
and presumably clean clothes came out of the washer, headed for a 70 minute
dry.
Let me tell you about the house.
Firstly, our neighborhood reminds me a bit of
Lynnwood. Not exactly you picturesque Irish countryside, but there
is something to be said for convenience. Lots and lots of new construction.
Our house is about 2 years old. It apparently was the model home
for the development, and it appears a great deal of money was spent on
window treatments. We have lined drapes and jabot’s and swags coming
out of our ears, mostly in brocades. Our bedroom is something else
? the fleur de lis palace! We have a kind of semi-circle canopy over
the bed (fleur de lis of course) and a fleur de lis tablecloth over some
shelf where presumably the TV would go. More fleur de lis fabric
for curtains in the en suite bathroom and of course a whole lot of fleur
de lis on a large bay window. The main floor has an entry hall (dark
pink below the chair rail, light pink above) with a sitting room to the
right (butter yellow with bordello red draperies, swag and jabots).
There is a French door from the hall to the sitting room and another pair
of French doors from that room into the dining room (actually the dining
area attached to the kitchen). Not a lot of cabinets. Tiny
under the counter refrigerator. But we have a dishwasher! To
the left of the kitchen in the laundry room.
To the left of the front hall is a livingroom. Total brocade
city! Peach room with white trim and white on white brocade furniture.
A really fancy curio cabinet type of thing and glass shelves on the walls
with some vases and other fancy bric-a-brac. You should see the gilded
cherub lamps! I sort of feel like I’m living in an Ethan
Allen showroom. And the mirrors! All over the place!
Also off the entry hall is a tiny powder room.
The living room has a gas fireplace and the other sitting room has
a solid material fireplace. Guess we gotta go out and get us some
turf! The house came with just about everything we need, including
every day dishes and fancier dishes in the dining room china cabinet.
It’s a bit shy on pots and pans, however, and our room is the only one
which has any drawers at all. The kids have closets in their rooms
but no dressers at all. Emmeline has the room with the double bed
and she complains it is too fancy, but I guess she’ll adjust.
There are lots of windows and it was quite bright this afternoon in the
house. That was nice.
There appear to be many kids in the neighborhood (oh wait, neighbourhood)
but we have not met any of them yet. I hope school will take care
of that.
Hopefully Mark will get this e-mail off tomorrow before it gets any
longer. He did manage to look at a USA Today which said the Mariners
are a game and a half up on the A’s. But no details. Oh, well.
Talk to you later,
Love,
Mer
