h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

F2093421?thread=8001698.

So, after work on Friday (the 18th) I took a train to Dublin and booked into Isaac's Hostel. Isaac's is a posh-looking hotel opposite Busáras, with a hostel round the back. I asked to be woken at 6.30 to catch my bus, and was told they don't do that in dorm rooms. (I didn't have a phone, which I'd usually use as my alarm, having lost it.) So I went looking for food and travel alarm clocks.

I ate in a noodle bar just off O'Connel Street, and finally tracked down a travel alarm clock in a convenience shop opposite the Abbey Theatre. It's analogue, which means the alarm goes off every twelve hours if you leave it set.

Then I walked back to Isaacs, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. I was alone in the dorm for a while*, till another guy came in to pick up some stuff and leave again. From the way he was moving stuff around on a couple of different beds, I assumed he was travelling with a group. I asked him. Yes: everyone else in the dorm was travelling together. They were a Spanish group, and were just heading out to Temple Bar. I wished him a good time.

I imagine he had a good time. Anyway, they all came rolling back at quarter to four, and almost immediately headed out again, presumably to the bathroom, leaving the light on behind them. They then came back in drips and drabs (well, ones and twos, anyway) over the course of the next half hour.



And then two of them were snoring loudly just out of sync with each other for a while.

When my alarm clock went off reliably (and loudly) at half past six, I was sorely tempted to let it beep for a bit, but I'm not actually evil (I just play evil on the internet), so I turned it off as soon as I'd worked out how to, and left the place in record time to buy my ticket to Belfast.

A return cost €22, which is a lot cheaper than the train. I was hoping to sleep on the bus, but the driver was playing 2fm. Trains are nicer. I like trains.

I didn't even notice we'd crossed the border till we were on the outskirts of Newry. I did have my passport with me, but only because you need it to check into a hostel.

The bus arrived early, so I had to wait a while^ by the mosaic statue thingy before Beatrice turned up. I was wearing the silly off-white floppy hat I'd warned her I'd be wearing (I wore that hat** to the London meet a couple of years ago), and she had no trouble recognising me. In her car, I met Max, who's about four times the size he was in the photo she'd sent me.

Bea gave me a guided tour of Belfast on the way back to her place, as I'd never been there before*`. Then we had bacon butties and waited for Malabarista and King Bomba to turn up. And waited. And checked maps of good walking routes. And waited. And checked h2g2. And waited. And chatted. And waited.

When they arrived, we ate a few more butties^`, debated where we'd walk, repacked our bags, and set off for Belfast Castle. From there, we climbed Cavehill. It's not high, but there are excellent views. And as Bea said, if the mist comes down we will at least have trees to look at. In the event, it was an excellent day, though Max was freaked out by the occasional bicycle. Actually, he seemed to be aggrieved that they exist at all. He's a big dog, and friendly without being jumpy. He just has a thing about bicycles.

En route, a bunch of Canadians asked Mal to take their photo. She'd just handed the camera back to them when a couple more joined the group. "Hey, would you take our photo?" And then more stragglers arrived.

We decided to take a short cut down. Actually, I think that was my fault. It was steep. And muddy. As in, hold onto this tree, get your balance, and plot a course to the next tree. Ready? Planned your route exactly? Okay then, run! It's a while since I've done that sort of descent.

We went back to Bea's for a bit, and then Mala took me and KB into town for food. We thought about going to the cinema, but ended up heading back to Mala's, where we built a moving cardboard Viking.

We were thinking of heading into Belfast the next day, but in the event spent it wandering through the grounds of Mala's stately home.

They dropped me off at a train station near KB's place, and I headed back to Great Victoria Street Station, which adjoins the Europa Bus Centre, for my bus back to Busáras. It was a longer route this time, with more stops.

I'd already booked my night at Isaacs. I checked in, and then left my bag behind the desk and went in search of food. There's an eat-all-you-like Chinese place not far from there, but it was late and closed. On O'Connel Street, only McDonalds, Burger King, and a very posh looking Chinese/Thai place were open. I eventually found an Oriental place in Westmorland Street.

And then I headed back to Isaacs retrieved my bag, and, because I was tired, spent about half an hour brushing my teeth (it's the braces).

There was a girl in my bed. Bottom bunk, by the door. A boy in another bed pointed me to the top bunk, which was empty, but had no bedding. So I dumped my bags on the floor and headed back to the front desk.

Two guys, staff, were chatting. They told me to wait till the chap at the desk came back. In the meantime, I was drawn into their conversation on the depletion of the ozone layer and the inevitability of a third world war. This was not what I wanted to talk about. This took about twenty minutes. By then, the guy on the desk was back. I asked him, and he said that everyone else in that dorm was a group. He decided to move me into a different dorm, and gave me a new keycard.

So I retrieved my bags, knocking over a couple of empty bottles in the process, and slept in the other dorm, on my own, first setting my new alarm clock for the early train.

Well, I set it for the right time, but I forgot to turn it on. I'd memorised the time of the early train, but I didn't know when others went, so when I did get up I headed straight for Heuston, where I had to wait an hour. I got into work just before lunch.



On Thursday, I bought a new phone.

TRiG.

* Which made it easy to lay out my clothes for the morning (which included a h2g2 T-shirt), and repack my rather large rucksack.

^ I don't know how long. This is a bus station without a clock anywhere visible. I didn't unearth the alarm clock from my rucksack. I tried to estimate the time from looking at the departure boards, but all I managed to discern was that buses leave the Europa Bus Centre for Derry, but arrive from Londonderry. Which was interesting, but unhelpful.

** Well, a previous incarnation. I occasionally lose that hat and have to buy it again in a wonderful shop in Holyhead which sells everything. The current incarnation isn't quite tight enough, and sometimes threatens to fly off in a high wind. It almost went overboard last time I crossed the Irish sea.

*` We had a family holiday in Northern Ireland at the Giant's Causeway region, and had driven through Belfast the night before the IRA ceasefire went into effect. But we hadn't stopped.

^` Except for Mal, who had a "larva-lamp stomach".

A *larva* lamp stomach? That makes it sound even worse!

Actually the simile she used the night before was quite picturesque, too - "It feels like I've eaten too many carbonated eggs..."

It was a good weekend. Maybe next time we should head south!

Wow. Is it really 14 months since that?

Just found this journal because I'm in the middle of doing an Entry about Cave Hill and did a search to see what hootoo says about it. Still seems weird to have a working conversation search after all these years!

That is a long time!

I spotted the Cave Hill entry, but I've not had a chance to look at it yet. I'll try to, over the weekend.

Here's to more rambles!

TRiG.

I saw this and thought you'd had another meet without me!

As if we'd do a thing like that!

TRiG.