Flying Irish Airlines (Aer Lingus) (29 October 2024)

River Liffey - Dublin

Bev and Graham insisted we take an Uber to the Charles De Gaulle Airport.  I was very happy to have an adventure taking public transport but agreed to doing so.  It was easy as there were no need to lug bags up and down stairs. 

 

Charles de Gaulle has two terminals.  Graham was flying out of terminal 2 and we were leaving from terminal 1.  We arrived so early we could not check our bags through to Dublin.  Instead we had a coffee and then lined up to drop off our bags.  It was not as efficient as in either Wellington or Sydney.  Going through customs was also not so efficient.  First we were going to have to go through in person but then we were directed to machine readable gate. After getting through, a customs officer had to stamp our passport.  I think they could learn a lot from NZ and Australia on making things more efficient. 

 

On board, I was surprised to see how close together our seats were with my knees almost touching the one in front.  I could have bought seats with more room but they were quite a bit more expensive.  The cabin crew were a delight and spent much of the flight trying to convince us that the plane was not going to crash and that the pilot was good but they were not so sure of the co-pilot who was flying the leg.  That was my interpretation of the entreaties to keep our seatbelts on during the flight. 

Our challenge for the day was to get to our Airbnb accommodation.  The messages that Bev had received were more confusing than helpful.  We thought that the simple approach was best and so took the bus to Heuston Station and then a tram to near the Airbnb.  We dragged our bags for a few hundred metres and then faced the challenge of figuring out where the accommodation was.  In the meantime I had an encounter with a young woman who wanted money or to use my phone.  She looked out of it so I declined and there was no politeness in her request.  When I said no there was an aggressive response as she stalked off. 

 

The next encounter seeking directions, was more productive and from that we figured out where to go.  On opening the door two little dogs barred the way.  Trying to dodge them, Bev caught her backpack on the hallway lamp which fell to the ground making a rather worrysome sound. After salvaging the lamp, and with the dogs settled down, the next challenge was lugging our luggage up two very narrow flights of stairs.  It was so narrow, the bags had to be carried either behind or in front of me. 

 

Our host Dermot was an outgoing Irishman who talked loudly to us and was rather delightful.  He was full of information and an engaging host.  It was nice to meet a him as often entry is via a lockbox, never meeting the owner.  He had initially thought he had two ruffians staying with him given the re-arrangement of his lamp, however he was very forgiving when we explained what had occurred in the hallway with the backpack and the dogs.

 

A pub nearby provided a nice place to relax over a wine and then a meal. 

 

After France, Dublin was a bit of a shock.  In France, for the most part, the French dressed with style and chic I think one would say, even when dressing casually like most people do.  We found people generally very polite and service was friendly and good.  Not always though.  Dublin people were louder, the housing looked less well cared for.  Those were my first impressions and it was quite marked.