After taking the ferry from Fishguard to Rosslare on Wednesday and having spent two nights on the Emerald Isle, these are my first impressions.
The famed friendliness has not been overstated. Every Irish person we've met has been very welcoming and enquiring in a friendly way. The only sour note was a true jobsworth English bloke in a Swift motorhome in a lovely farm campsite run by some elderly Dutch folk. All the hard standings were taken when we arrived and the owner said, not unreasonably, just find a space near a borne and plug in. We did so and not 30 seconds after, Mr Jobsworth, who looked as if he'd been weaned on picked onions, lowered his window and said "I think you'll find you're not the required 6m from us." I measured it and it was over 5.5 metres between us. Looking as though he might have a stroke if we stayed put (my first reaction) we moved next to a French Moho who, having heard the jobsworth, said that we were welcome to park next to them and even to share their hookup if necessary. It wasn't necessary but we thanked them and parked up.
Interestingly, this morning, when going to the shower, the Swift had moved leaving its ramps, hook up cable, and a quaint little sign saying " this pitch belongs to xxxxxxxxx". I smiled and walked across it. A Dutch couple, to his other side came up to me and laughingly told me how he'd had a go at them for having the temerity to cook outside using a small gas stove. Being less polite than me, they'd told him to f**k off!
That distraction aside, back to Ireland. The main roads are pretty good in the main (not yet been on a motorway) and the minor roads are pretty narrow. I must say, the concentration needed on the small roads militates against long journeys. We've just done Moortown, Wicklow to Limerick and I'm knackered. I kept pulling over to let the queue of cars past and on every occasion, I was thanked by the drivers by flashing their hazards. At least I think it was gratitude. It could have been them saying "well you moved aside eventually you fecking #%¥!??!" I like to believe the former.
Tonight we are going to venture our for a pint of the dark stuff and a meal so will post further. But the countryside is lovely, a bit like North Yorkshire and there is lots to see everywhere. Just passed through a place called Bruff on the way to Limerick it turned out it is the ancestral home of JFK. (Younger readers, he was an American president assassinated in 1963).
Have a good day!
The famed friendliness has not been overstated. Every Irish person we've met has been very welcoming and enquiring in a friendly way. The only sour note was a true jobsworth English bloke in a Swift motorhome in a lovely farm campsite run by some elderly Dutch folk. All the hard standings were taken when we arrived and the owner said, not unreasonably, just find a space near a borne and plug in. We did so and not 30 seconds after, Mr Jobsworth, who looked as if he'd been weaned on picked onions, lowered his window and said "I think you'll find you're not the required 6m from us." I measured it and it was over 5.5 metres between us. Looking as though he might have a stroke if we stayed put (my first reaction) we moved next to a French Moho who, having heard the jobsworth, said that we were welcome to park next to them and even to share their hookup if necessary. It wasn't necessary but we thanked them and parked up.
Interestingly, this morning, when going to the shower, the Swift had moved leaving its ramps, hook up cable, and a quaint little sign saying " this pitch belongs to xxxxxxxxx". I smiled and walked across it. A Dutch couple, to his other side came up to me and laughingly told me how he'd had a go at them for having the temerity to cook outside using a small gas stove. Being less polite than me, they'd told him to f**k off!
That distraction aside, back to Ireland. The main roads are pretty good in the main (not yet been on a motorway) and the minor roads are pretty narrow. I must say, the concentration needed on the small roads militates against long journeys. We've just done Moortown, Wicklow to Limerick and I'm knackered. I kept pulling over to let the queue of cars past and on every occasion, I was thanked by the drivers by flashing their hazards. At least I think it was gratitude. It could have been them saying "well you moved aside eventually you fecking #%¥!??!" I like to believe the former.
Tonight we are going to venture our for a pint of the dark stuff and a meal so will post further. But the countryside is lovely, a bit like North Yorkshire and there is lots to see everywhere. Just passed through a place called Bruff on the way to Limerick it turned out it is the ancestral home of JFK. (Younger readers, he was an American president assassinated in 1963).
Have a good day!
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BTW Father Teds House is quite tricky to find if you are looking 
