A desk!

When we started to think in earnest about this adventure, we realized that much of it would be an exercise is prioritizing: just what is important enough to pack and bring with or pursue once we got here? Conversely, it was an opportunity to shed the excess: if we do without it for a year, can we do without it altogether?

Well, after a month of moving my laptop (a must have, given my line of work) back and forth from side board to kitchen table and back again each day, I learned a few things:

• Optical mice don't work on glass tables
• Food and keyboards don't mix
• Reshuffling piles of paper every day is extremely inefficient

The painfully obvious answer is a desk. If this were Seattle, or any other large city, I would head to IKEA. But it's not open in Dublin yet (long story, buy me a cider and I'll tell it to you), so we decided to trek to Bristol, combining a good visit with a lightning shop at the big blue box.

The other hurdle is that this tiny house has four sofas in it (no, I'm not kidding), and there was no way to get even a token desktop in. Our very cool landlady graciously gave us the key to the other house in the village (number 36) so we could swap out furniture. We figured out that by removing one large coffee table and turning one sofa 90 degrees, we could sneak in my tiny desk.

Of course, I also had the trek to Florida and back last week, so assembling the desk was one of the things that just didn't Get Done. But with a calm moment during the week last week, and patience with a screwdriver (I miss my drill, but not enough to buy a new one), I have a desk!


Astute viewers will also note the laundry rack. Yes, we have no dryer, which is something I sorely miss, as the amount of laundry produced by four people in a muddy place can be prodigious, and we're only barely keeping up. One load a day is the maximum, since that fills the two racks, which need at least a day to dry. We have discovered we can speed drying marginally by turning the rack in front of the radiator.

Eagle eyes will notice a white thingy poking out one side of the computer--the Omnitel guys assure me that it will be just a few more days or so until they can get the broadband working. In the meantime, I invested in a USB dongle that gives me a mobile broadband connection to the tower on the hill. The pipeline is smaller, but has been very reliable, and can even carry a voice call without a hiccup. Which means you can call our Redmond number, and if we're not asleep, we'll pick up and talk to you. While sitting at the desk, no less!

Meandering to our destination

We boarded a ferry for England (half-term break) on Saturday, but not until we chipped away at the Internet iceberg. It seems with the re-opening of the hotel on the premises (www.tulfarris.com) we have an ally in the broadband supply challenge. The hotel is advertising wifi, and it appears that we share the signal. So if we're down, that means the hotel is down. Not good for business. The players are Larry, the hotel facilties manager, and Eddie and Stephen, who work for the dysfunctional Omnitel. Alfred has cameo appearances as the man who keeps asking the same question to see if he can get the same answer twice. It hasn't happened yet.

***

Today, Monday, is a bank holiday in Ireland, which simply means that the Irish thought they could use a day off, so they're saying it's the banks that needed it, and if the banks are closed then why on earth should we be working either? And so everyone takes the day off. This happens four times a year. Suits us just fine.

We took advantage of the convergence of holiday and school break to escape to friends near Bristol, where the day has dawned clear and cold. We're thinking of going to see some of those magnificent gardens that England is so famous for, and then chase it down with a trip to IKEA. Yes, there is a big blue building in Dublin with the Swedish furnishing giant's name on it, but they won't be allowed to open until the motorway works are done. We're not holding our breath, and so off to the Bristol IKEA we go. The cricks in our necks and backs call for some feather pillows, and I'm desperate for some sort of desk setup: an optical mouse does not work on a glass kitchen table! Since we took the ferry over, we have our own car, so stuff is not an issue, as long as we still have trunk space.

Speaking of ferries, we enjoyed the adventure tremendously. Even though it was more hours of travel in the end, three hours on board broke up the driving, cost us less in stress and petrol and even spewed less carbon than flying. We're seasoned ferry tarvellers in Washington State, where the ferries are part of the highway system, but here they are lifelines for trade between the two island nations and the continent: potatoes from Ireland, tomatoes from the south. The vast majority of the vehicles on the boat are trucks (lorries), most of them filled with food. And because trucks are so huge, the boat is huge too: ten decks tower above the water, ramps raise and lower to make ramps to drive on and off.
We arrived at the docks at the crack of dawn, and the behemouth was revealed to us as the sun rose.

And of course, one of the joys of traveling this early is the light traffic: on the drive down, the boys counted 132 cars, 7 trucks, 2 buses and--this being Ireland--two horse trailers.