Ireland Day 3 – Ireland

Breakfast at the Mariners was included and welcome. Afterwards I sat outside and digested the Stenna Line’s timetable then booked us onto the 13:00 sailing for the princely sum of £69. I’d noticed the night before that my left boot was oily, doom laden deja vu disregarded I departed, perhaps a little more gingerly with mechanical empathy, perhaps a little hung over.

Pembrokeshire is glorious and I hope to return another day. Today was all about ticking the big box of this adventure and actually getting to Ireland. I was insanely early for the ferry and ventured back up over the headland to find a pretty cove and latte in Fishguard Lower Town.

In the ferry queue I met Michael and Roberta (apologies if I have that wrong) from Düsseldorf and tapped away at this nonsense. The sea was millpond smooth and a pleasant crossing was had by all, save perhaps the Manchester United fans who got to watch the first half before we landed. Straight off the boat and finally into Ireland in the middle of a bank holiday weekend, I pootled around, searched for “pub and campsite” there were none so I settling for one on the coast.

Camping is not my special skill. Despite having had a ‘dry run’ in the garden back home with my mate Steve, a childish delight, the camping not Steve, I managed to pitch between cow pats and rocks in the top field. My host had told me they had a band and ‘chipper’ meaning, apparently, a couple of blokes with a keyboard and a burger van. Scenic but too noisy with family friendliness I wandered along the shore to enjoy my burger with a couple of quiet cans.

Not so quiet later when Bohdan (Богдан) and his equally friendly group of Polish pals kicked off a campfire party next door. Not that it bothered me, tired from the travelling and refreshed by the tin of Zubr proffered as appeasement I slept well.