WATERFORD

5-10 March 2023

With a charged start to the year that produced a fleeting home-appearance of Brother from Ireland, the usual invitations were laid (“you must come over to Ireland for a visit!”) and promises made (“sure I will! Soon!”). 

For once, there was follow-through. Sister-in-law’s 50th birthday in March was the perfect excuse.

With leave to burn, I booked a week to spend on my own with the family (just outside Waterford) over the half-century celebrations before joining Chris to do a weekend in Isle of Man, and a quick loop around Northern Ireland, culminating in what would no doubt be a very festive farewell in Belfast over St Patrick’s Day weekend.

Waiting the few weeks between booking the tickets and beginning the shenanigans was torture! 

Packing the suitcase equally so. It’s always tricky packing for the season alternate to the current at home. One’s wardrobe always seems so foreign, even though it was a staple just a few months earlier. I didn’t cut any corners and packed everything I may possibly need, in anticipation of the crazy cold I knew I’d be facing on the other side, thanks to almost daily updates from the weather app that revealed plunging temperatures.

It was a very long journey, travelling on my own which is very rare. I managed to use my time wisely, getting unusually good sleep on both flights and utilising the two-hour stopover in Dubai in the middle to get a 5km walk in (by covering the length of Terminals B and C) to keep the blood flowing.

Exiting Dublin Airport, I was grateful for the detailed instructions I had been given on where to find the bus terminus and which bus to catch because not only was I travel-weary, but the bracing cold in my too-light travel wear meant there was no time to dilly-dally if I intended not to freeze to death (a bit dramatic, but it truly was flippin’ cold!).

Half an hour later, I was ensconced in a nice warm coach and enjoying the view from the big windows as we hurtled towards Waterford. 

Anthony met me at the bus station and loaded my incredibly-heavy suitcase into his van to take me back to the family home, where my sister-in-law and nephew were eagerly awaiting my arrival.

I got the lowdown on the lay of the land as we drove out of Waterford, took the bridge over the river and headed up to their suburb, Slieverue.

It was a fantastic reunion, aware of how long it had been since we had last seen each other… and yet fitting back hand-in-glove like no time had passed at all!

I was given the tour of the very spacious home and shown to my very lovely suite; instructed to make myself at home, with a kickstart pack on the bed – fluffy winter pyjamas, a gown and even a pair of slippers!

Returning downstairs to the kitchen, I presented all the treasures I had brought from home. Nothing sophisticated; a selection of favourites that could not be sourced in Ireland so were met with the anticipated and desired level of glee.

In return, I was gifted my first Guinness of the trip and we settled into the lounge to catch up on what we’d missed over the last few years. With conversation flowing, more Guinness on hand and a very cold Ireland outside the front door, we agreed that my arrival celebration would be an in-home one with a delicious pasta meal and the very best company.

I did an admirable job of staying captivated until about 10pm, when my stamina failed me and I simply had to go and test those fluffy jarmies. Yawn. My weary bones were asleep as my head hit the pillow…

MONDAY 

Being Luanne’s birthday, special effort was made for everyone to get up a little early to commune in the kitchen and do well-wishes, presents – and even a quick video call with the parents in South Africa – over a very civilised cup of tea, before Luanne needed to get Connor off to school. 

Anthony and I popped down to the supermarket to get some goodies for breakfast and were soon whipping up a selection of the Birthday Girl’s favourites, to get her day started right.

With bacon and pancakes in the fuel tank, we kitted up nice ‘n warm and took a walk around Slieverue. It was a treat to be able to walk out of the driveway and cross the road into the countryside, ambling down narrow lanes and appreciating the greenery that came from all the Irish rainfall.

Just over an hour and 6km later, we appreciated the return to our warm nest, where we spent most of the afternoon debating what we would do that evening to celebrate the Big Birthday. We were still discussing it when Luanne had to go and fetch Connor from school, so I decided to ride along for company and to play lookout for anything that might catch our fancy for the evening.

Poor Connor wasn’t feeling brilliant, staving off a bit of a cold and with a nagging cough that was taking the wind out of his sails. Consequently, he asked permission to be excused from any celebrations, either home or out. We suspected that he had ulterior motives, to self-medicate with his online games! And his absence spurred his parents to decide on curry for dinner since this was something that Connor would not eat and so a rare opportunity for them (and, of course, no arguments from me!).

We got a taxi into town and walked along the quayside, settling on Cafe Goa thanks to the only remaining table in the cosy little restaurant being a warm and welcoming table-for-four summoning us through the bay window. 

As the only server in the restaurant, our hostess-cum-waitress welcomed and seated us, and proceeded to bustle gracefully between the tables delivering us menus, water and poppadoms while deftly managing the rest of the patrons. She filled our glasses with wine, efficiently took our order and returned with bowls of piping hot food before we’d made a dent in our drinks. 

The curry was spicy and delicious and we scooped it all up with the sticky rice and crunchy fresh naan bread, washed down with the delightful Chilean Cab Sauv.

Fed and happy, but not ready to return home quite yet, we walked to the corner for a nightcap in the Timbertoes Bar off the reception of Treacy’s Hotel. Traditional pub with a sturdy and polished wooden bar as the focal feature, and a fireplace on each end cosying up the place, we indulged in a pint of Guinness from the tap (at 6.50 Euros a pop, which would have to be recorded on the Index!)

Our taxi picked us up right outside and we marvelled at our luck since although it had been raining intermittently over the course of the evening, we’d had the good fortune for it to be dry each time we had needed to be out on the street moving from place to place. Forget the luck of the Irish; this was properly the luck of the South Africans!

Bleeding the special occasion for all it was worth, we opened a bottle of red at home to see out the last of Luanne’s birthday. Despite an endless stream of conversation all day, there were still untold stories that saw us to bedtime.

TUESDAY

A late start thanks to the late evening, I only surfaced after Connor had been taken to school. Not even attempting to rush the day, I produced myself downstairs in the kitchen in my holiday gear (fluffy jarmies, gown and slippers), ready for my mug of tea and a close-out decision on what we’d be doing for the day. Much of our decision-making depended on the weather and even though it would be barely 5 degrees by lunchtime, the sun was out and the day needed to be appreciated.

We had a leisurely brunch of pork bangers, scrambles and pancakes and then slowly prepared for the outing.

Luanne and I led the charge, with a walk around the Village Loop, which started at our gate and circled the enclave of houses behind us. Luanne then walked a second loop while I ran it twice to complete my required 30 min heart rate boost. With the hint of sunshine, we even managed to break a sweat!

Smug at our commitment to good health, we earned ourselves an afternoon of sloth. 

Anthony, encouraged by how invigorated Luanne and I were from our adventure, dabbled with the idea of repeating the exercise while Luanne was out fetching Connor. Of course, we spent so much time procrastinating about whether or not to do it, that Luanne was back before we’d left.

Changing tactics, we decided that we’d just walk the route instead, all the way down to Miler pub, where we would reward ourselves with a pint for completing the 2k downhill – and prepare for the corresponding 2km uphill return. Brilliant to enjoy the fresh air and good balance to spend as much time on the journey as the destination.

On the way back, we were compelled to stop off at the local pub, Stapleton’s, a couple of hundred metres from home, for a pint of fresh-pulled Guinness (5.20 Euros; definitely getting onto the Index!)

Once home, we did a team effort of making dinner an event, with Anthony managing the food, Luanne sorting the music and me providing little more than moral support.

Homemade Alfredo was exactly what we needed to replenish the resources we’d used on our forays around the neighbourhood, while the spirited family dinner and jovial conversation nourished the soul.

WEDNESDAY

Needing to see what all the fuss was about, the plan for the morning was to track down a traditional Waterdford Blaa for breakfast after dropping Connor off at school.

It was freezing – literally, since light snow had started falling that morning – so we parked the car and started the search for a breakfast blaa in earnest, with hands wedged in gloves and in pockets, heads down and chins nested in scarves.

Not flying completely blind since we’d done a notable amount of Googling on the subject, the first open place we recognised from the online searching, was a big bakery called The Granary.

Although quite a big shop, the warm glow of the entrance and the glimpse of the shiny glass counter displaying baked goods that we could see from the door drew us in like a moth to a flame!

We knew we had chosen the right place when we asked the chap behind the counter if they served Blaa with sausages or bacon or eggs and he said all 3, in one! We ordered 3 of those and topped up with hot beverage selections at the cashier.

We’d barely completed the payment transaction when the Blaas were brought to us. A stack of fry-up goodness on a soft white powdered bun. We were invited to try the complimentary tomato relish, which rounded off the gooey (egg), crispy (bacon), and crunchy (sausages) melt-in-your-mouth (blaa) combo perfectly. Unforgettable breakfast bun, well worth a repeat visit!

Being a very chilly day and with the icy wind howling outside, there would be no ambition of walking or running in the wilds. Anthony had skipped gym for a few days while playing host, so we decided we would go to gym together around midday to try and work through the blaa and make space for lunch, which was planned as a reheat of butternut soup that Anthony has previously made from scratch. Breakfast had been such a mouthful that without some attempt at moving it, there would be no space to do justice to the chunky soup that was so perfectly suited to the grey day!

Never able to stick to a schedule (and with no intention of rushing unnecessarily while on holiday), we inevitably left late for gym, which resulted in an awkward amount of time on the tail end of our workout. So, instead of returning home, Anthony dropped me off in town, where I met Luanne and we did a bit of To Do list shopping before picking up Connor from school.

The bright side of the dreary weather is that there is little better than a medicinal hot chocolate when you get home! Melting marshmallows to warm the cockles!

With the grown-ups having some work to do, Connor and I filled the gap with making a cake, belated for Luanne’s birthday which had passed early that week while Connor was a little under the weather. Cheating a bit with a box mixture, we were still very chuffed at the result – and coated the top and sides with a thick layer of cream cheese icing and used chocolate drops to spell out ’50’ in the middle. As chuffed as we were with our masterpiece, Mama Bear was double-chuffed with our combined efforts!

THURSDAY

With the worst weather of the week forecast for Thursday, we woke up to a bleak and raining day. The upside, however, was that the cloud cover holds the warmth in and we were forecast a balmy 8 degree high. At some point during the day. If there was one thing I’d learnt so far it was that Irish weather is all over the place. As Anthony said, “If you don’t like the weather now, wait 10 minutes” because it was bound to swing!

Also great weather for comfort eating, so why not have delicious Alfredo leftover for breakfast?!

Devoid of ambitions for the day and very happy to continue using the weather as an excuse, it was a long and leisurely morning in jarmies and gown, glued to the Lazy Boy and passing the day with book, tea, internet, travelogue, Facebook, book, Rooibos, yawn, WhatsApp, wash-rinse-repeat. Very busy doing nothing.

So busy doing nothing, in fact, that we were half an hour late for our only intended excursion. Another visit to the gym. 

No mind, we did a shorter workout so that we were on time to fetch Connor, which was essential since it was raining quite heavily – and of course quite cold, but a little warmer than you’d think with the the cloud cover keeping in what little warmth there was.

We had the final Choc O’Clock (hot chocolate and marshmallow egg) when we got home. I would miss this daily ritual, which was always a warm welcome home.

Retiring to my recliner while the family took care of their respective work and homework, I basked in the dusky light through the bay window, enjoying the novelty of having nothing to do and nowhere to be.

We finally got around to having our pate on melba and brie on crackers as a little sundowner treat (we had been meaning to all week) and had a special guest appearance by Connor, who had swapped his computer games for our fun and games for the evening (no mean feat for a teenage boy!)

Celebrating the time together and commiserating at how quickly it had gone, we outsourced the cooking and ordered pizzas for dinner. Lots of antics and laughs in the lounge as we created new memories that we’d be able to relive the next time we were able to meet up.

FRIDAY 

With best intention of an up-and-out, we inevitably faffed our way into leaving about an hour later than intended. 

Luanne had dropped Connor at school and returned with fluffy sausage rolls, still hot from the oven at Asda, which had taken the urgency out of hitting the road for brunch on the way to the airport in Dublin.

We’d been fearing a slow passage since the weather apps all reported snow overnight in Dublin meaning the roads could be wet and icy, slowing our movement and raising the risk for accidents and such things causing traffic.

With the luck of the Irish still on our side, none of these things transpired, and we made good time getting to Avoca Cafe just outside Dublin for our morning meal.

We probably could have spent double the time there since the ground floor was a market of infinite browsing potential, with a full service and self service restaurant upstairs. 

But we were on a mission and so efficiently ordered delicious things, enjoying our last meal together with the usual peppering of tales and teasing… which I would so miss until we were next reunited.