Sense and Disability

occasionally pink-haired traveller, often spotted with blue cane.

Oxford to Dublin: An Experience in Three Acts (Act One)

Posted by Chelsey on February 19, 2009

Scene: Oxford High Street. One in the moring on February 17th.

I stand on the kerb with Holly and Devine (sp?) two of my flatmates who walked me up to the bus stop because one in the moring is sketchy in Oxford. The bus proceeds to be three very long hours of an uncomfortable seat and me being that American listening to Taylor Swift. (If you wish to mock me, go listen to Best Day then come back and argue).

My bag is not my large can-hold-books backpack because it had not arrived from home (still hasn’t). So my clothes are very tightly packed to make room for Neil Gaiman books. I went to Dublin to see him, you see. Bobby Bear wanted to go but knew he might get abandoned for books:


At Stansted airport I was amazed yet again by the disorganization of airports+getting a wheelchair. Once you have one you are perfect, but to get one, in this case, you get checked in and then take a paper back down the zones to Mitie who runs the chair show (army of chairs outside the window was amusing). Then you wait for a guy with a chair. And you don’t get to hang out in the airport lounge or get a freaking coffee…. But I digress.

Wheelchair guy brought along a friend– a bloke who I gathered was new to the airport–WG was about fifty and his partner had kids, probably in his thirties. I spent much of the plane ride trying to think of a suitable name for their awesomeness. I think Statler and Fozzie works well, but doesn’t quite catch it.  Statler let me know all about what airlines to take (not Ryanair, which I was on), and advised Fozzie on buying a house in that–way of the working class older brit. It sounds like stereotyping but it’s here, promise.

They took me down to pre-board the plane. On the plane, I slept. Apparently Ryanair charges alot for food. You don’t need food if you pack copious Nutrigrain bars. Ask me how i know. Cane on plane:


Dublin airport, wheelchair to cash machine, purchased postcards and got on the bus. I took the local bus per my host’s advice and saw the advertisement that shows that Burger King adapts! (Was there a Bush version of this? Obama? Brown?):



Also Gaelic on the signs which I hadn’t realized happened:


There was a woman on the bus who was obviously mentally handicapped. She had bright red irish hair and I could picture her in the 1860s, a weak relation… Unable to immigrate…. I think in stories.

Off the bus I went to meet Dani, my couchsurfing host’s friend who was also going to the signing. Dublin is so pretty. There are lovely buildings, and a river right in the centre, with several nice bridges.


P1010247 Water

We met at the Library Bar which is GORGEOUS and has good coffee.


I made my way there with my map and got there early (!) so I wrote to Laura. Then we had sushi. Good sushi. With eel. I am in love. The restaurant (Yamamori) was really sunny and light.

We sat and chatted for ages about language, being sick a lot, travel and I don’t know what else. She was such a nice girl and I love hearing people’s stories. We then went to the ampitheatre. I perched on top, perhaps having a premoniton, perhaps not wanting to chance fate and topple down stone stairs. Nevertheless, it was beautiful. The slightly cloudy sky excentuated the grey stone and it felt incredibly peaceful. After that, we went to this little place called the Queen of Tarts for hot chocolate. I love little shops on side streets. It really makes a city for me if there are precious cafes in hidden spots.

P1010261 Dani at the amphitheatre

P1010263 Queen of Tarts menu

It also makes me glad that I got to go around with a local instead of a tourist book. I got a feel for walking around Dublin that morning. It’s much less rushed than London, and everyone seems more…calm. I don’t like that it runs on buses because when you’re unsure where you’re going that’s confusing, but it also shows how walkable the city is.

 Oh, Oglekids:


Next act: Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer!

3 Responses to “Oxford to Dublin: An Experience in Three Acts (Act One)”

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    Oxford to Dublin: An Experience in Three Acts (Act One)

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