Yesterday, Mr. Waffle’s brother and his wife took our children and theirs to Tayto park. The park named after a potato crisp which proves that stereotypes are there for a reason.
It’s in Meath just on the outskirts of greater Dublin. The original plan was that we would rendez-vous at Tayto Park. Mr. Waffle and I spent quite a while trying to work out what to do near Tayto park in November and rapidly came to the conclusion that our best option after dropping the children would be to turn tail and go home. Happily, the cousins came in two cars and collected our children from home and dropped them back.
With a whole afternoon on our hands, we decided to go out to Howth for lunch and a walk. We went to the pier for lunch. Recession? It is over. We went to Aqua; next available table for two? 3.45.
[Conversation about Aqua at my bookclub this evening:
Friend A: It’s amazing.
Me: Maybe, but we didn’t get in.
Friend B: Yeah the food is fantastic.
Me: Yes, but we didn’t get in.
Friend A: And the view out is wonderful.]
We eventually found a table at another spot after queuing for a bit. Yes, really. We had to fight off some queue jumpers but, egged on by the woman behind us in the queue, we secured our table eventually. The minute we finished, about 2.15, two other enthusiastic diners hopped into our chairs.
The place was awash with tourists. Really, who says, “Long weekend in November, let’s go to Dublin!” Lots of people it transpires, almost all of them French, and fortune definitely favoured them, the weather has been delightful and yesterday it was so mild and sunny that lots of people were wearing shorts.
We then went off for our walk around the Hill of Howth which was pleasant but definitely busy. It was misty but pretty.
As we went around, a solitary Dutchman approached us from the opposite direction. He began declaiming. Initially, we thought he was speaking to someone else, but no he was addressing us. He said, irritably “If you go on, maybe six headlands, all the same, misty and then a lighthouse. About an hour’s walk and all the same.” Then he stalked off. “Was he comparing it unfavourably to all the cliffs in Holland?” we thought nastily. In any event, he clearly had no idea what the weather is normally like in Ireland in November or he would have been just delighted with his lot.
The children were returned to us at tea time happy to have done all manner of terrifying things including eating their own weight in crisps.
A satisfactory Sunday all round.
*If you are unfamiliar with the Dustin the Turkey number which inspired this title, may I direct your attention here.
