"90% I'll spend on good times,women and Irish Whiskey. The other 10% I'll probably waste"

The cab arrives to take us the Connolly Station. Much like our founding fathers - Washington, Jefferson etc. - there are a lot of buildings named after the father of the Irish Rebellion and Republic.
We have a great driver. He knows where we are going. It is rush hour in Dublin and we have to drive across the central part of the city.
We have experience with the trains of the UK, France and Italy. Those experiences have been excellent. We are reasonably confident. I have tried to get a feeling for the Irish train system. I ordered the tickets on line. Instructions were simple and direct but designed for travelers familiar with Irish rail.
So to me, they are vague and incomplete. Also, there is the question of the location of the stations and can we get there from here.
The Connolly station is the main station in Dublin. It is both a commuter and travel station. The cab driver drops us off across the street. Traffic is very heavy. He points out that it will save us time (fare) to cross the street.
Now, I am at my worse. How do I pickup tickets? Did I get the right date? Right destination? Are there more than one Wexford? Where are the machines? Did I order correctly? Do I have the code on my phone? You get the idea.
I stand on the sidewalk. Betty, Caroline and Bill's confidence in me is waning by the second. I see no machines. All the people know where they are going. We are a road block with our luggage and backpacks.
I do eventually realize that there is an escalator up to a second floor. Logic is that since nothing on the ground floor everything will be on the floor above.
Now, if you are by yourself, you can meander making left turns instead of right. When there are five of you it is not as easy.
The station is on the second floor. The ground floor is for the commuter trains.
I ask and Information Desk points to the kiosk five feet to my right. But, at least, I can say that I ask (it is a male myth "that men do not ask for directions").
I print the tickets which are the common 2 1/2" by 3" piece of paper. Just the right size to be easily lost or misplaced. As you travel, you collect these used tickets in pockets and luggage. Not discarding the used tickets is of a sign of your insecurity. You know you should but somehow you just can't do it.
Now, we have plenty of time to find Platform #5. Trust me, until that train arrives you are not comfortable.
Standing on the Platform as the clock moves to 08:40, we ask ourselves over and over again - can this be the right platform - is there another #5 we do not know of. The trains do not look right. Where are the other passengers? Where is our train on the overhead screen?
The train to Wexford arrives. As with all train schedules, the overhead shows the final destination not the stops. Wexford is the second to last stop.
When selecting seats, I presumed a standard configuration - seats facing forward in rows. This configuration is seating on each side of a table which is ideal. Unfortunately, my selection puts us across the aisle from each other. Lesson learned. When selecting seats - push "best seats available".
We are lucky. There is open seating so we select a table and squat.
It is little over two hour ride to Wexford. No matter how much research you do - maps and websites - there is no real way to visualize distance and space. That is part of the adventure. This is a local with stops at small towns along the way.
Ireland is making a large push to bring back the "Irish" language (it is Irish - not Gallic). My comment is if you think French is difficult - you have no idea. The result of this resurrection is that all signs are in both Irish and English and all announcements are first in Irish and then English. It is fun.
The English dating back to the 1600s prohibited the speaking of "Irish". After the 1798 Rebellion, speaking Irish would result in imprisonment and deportation.  As a result, Irish almost died out in western Ireland.
The most fun was that the conductor ends each announcement with "thank you for using Irish rail" or something like that. The first time you hear the announcement - it sounds like "neither far nor near". The second, third, fourth, you are sure he is saying "neither far nor near". So at every announcement, we chime in "neither far nor near".
To see Ireland, you really need to drive. Views from the train are constantly hindered by growth along the railway.  What we do see is beautiful. Ireland is green, rolling hills with neat villages and towns. It is evident that agriculture remains a major economic force in Ireland. As with all nations, economics affects history- sometimes quietly and other times with a roar. In Ireland, 800 years of occupation by the British it is a scream.
There is a snack cart. We made sandwiches at the house by cleaning out the refrigerator. We still buy crisps (chips) and beverages. More time to practice, our developing skill with currency.
The Republic of Ireland is part of the EU and therefore, the currency is the Euro. We are dealing with pockets of British Sterling (paper and coins) and Euros (paper and coins). Both the the Pound Sterling and the Euro use coins for one and two denominations. They are different in thickness but not when you are reaching in your pocket and everyone is looking at you (no they are not -but they do know you are a tourist). The vendors are obviously aware and quickly hand back the incorrect coinage.
Wexford is vastly different than what I expected. It is a fishing town. It is a friendly and diverse town. Wexford is very proud of its heritage and history.
At the station, Betty calls our host to find out how to locate the apartment. The owner is a delightful and ingratiating lady. She immediately drives down and picks us up at the train station.
The apartment overlooks large fishing boats, a bridge and the bay. We are a few blocks from central Wexford. Everything is a quick walk away.
The building has been recently remodeled with a dental clinic on the ground floor. We are on the third floor (not that bad, the apartment is three floors up - not four as you expect where the European ground floor does not count). There is no elevator but it proves not to be an issue.
As our hostess details the apartment to us (the bathrooms are great - and there are two of them), I ask her if she knows of how we might hire a driver to take us to Cushinstown.
Our maternal family roots are to southeastern Ireland and, specifically, Wexford County. We have traced a marriage to the church in Cushinstown. We have no idea where Cushinstown is other than it is near Wexford. We have surmised that it is a road sign and a church. From our hostess's reaction, we are correct. She has no idea.
We also know we need to drive which means we need to hire a driver and car. We came to Wexford as a homage to our ancestry and to see if we can locate more details.
The hostess says she will find out and will get back to us. (another reason you need cellphones when traveling).
She calls back within an hour. Her neighbor has volunteered and will pick us up at the apartment at 09:00.
It is @ 14:00 and everyone is tired. The apartment is pleasant, all agree that the afternoon is for resting. I take a quick walk around town to orient myself and for exercise. I locate a nice market around the block and buy some necessities for the apartment and breakfast.
Dinner is fish and chips from Sharkey's - Yelp's best fish and chips in Wexford. I cannot tell you how much I enjoy authentic - real - fish and chips. It is the same as - Texas BBQ - first thing off the plane - Goode's on Kirby.
Tomorrow - Church.

"We were always loyal to lost causes, the professor said. Success for us is the dark of the intellect and of the imagination"

Our last full day in Dublin.
We have erred. We should spend, at least, one more day in Dublin. We do not drive when we travel internationally. That can be a determent. In Ireland, where the beauty of the land is a major appeal, not driving is a hindrance.
Driving gives you a freedom on schedule and allows visitation to more sites in a day.
We will be leaving by train tomorrow for Wexford. That will be tomorrow's adventure.
Caroline has volunteered to remain at the house. we are expecting a package via Fed Ex. Morning delivery is scheduled. It is important.
Betty has made reservations for a tour of Dublin. The tour focus is the Book of Kells.
We take a cab to Trinity College which is on the edge of Central Dublin and just off Temple Bar (notice that I mention Temple Bar a lot) .
Trinity College was founded in 1592 by the English crown. Trinity is one of the seven ancient universities of Britain and is a public institution.
It is rush hour and crossing the street to enter the college is dangerous, Irish drivers are clever, brave and aggressive. They are not as bad as the London drivers and slightly better than Rome. And then, there is the adjustment that traffic moves from the left.
The guide is a somewhat disheveled. He is a professional. He has practiced his craft. He understands his audience and as he gains our attitudes and preferences, he tempers his presentation.
We are off. It is a small group. The highlight of the tour is the must-see Book of Kells. It is first on the the tour.
Through the portal of the College to the Old Library, we pass to the isolated exhibition room.
The Book of Kells contains the four Gospels based on the Vulgate text completed in 384 AD by St Jerome.
The book is on vellum (prepared calf skin) in a script known as "insular majuscule". The book contains  340 folios and has been severely trimmed and edges are gilded - result of a rebinding in the 19th century. The book was separated into the four separate books over the ages.
The book may have been constructed whole or part by monks on the island of Iona (off the coast of Scotland). After a Viking raid in 806AD. the Columban monks took refuge in a new monastery at Kells, County Meath. There is no certainty whether the Book was initiated at this monastery or  completed at this monastery after the relocation of the monks.
The manuscript is lavishly decorated with incomparable artistry of abstract decoration and images of plants, animals and human ornament.
Of course, your time in front of the case is limited. There is the Book of Kells. Well, not exactly. Two volumes are open. One is open to display decorated page and one to show two pages of text.
I have seen the Book of Kells - well, to be honest, I was in the same room as the Book of Kells.
The Book can be viewed online.
We enter the main chamber of the Old Library is the "Long Room". The Long Room was built between 1712 and 1732 and is filled with over 200,000 of the library's oldest books. The library can claim a copy of any book published in Britain and Ireland. The barrel-vaulted ceiling was completed in 1860. The Library is big on busts.
You walk quickly - do not linger. Do not touch. Do not ask questions.
The tour is longer than I expected. It is more of a tour of Central Dublin. A brief outline of the history of Trinity College. We walk to the statue of Molly Malone. The tour takes us back to Dublin Castle. I am glad that we have taken the tour - more information and more insight in how the Irish perceive their history.
You find that - at least - the eastern/southern part of the island - are very aware and proud of the Viking influence of their culture and gene pool.
We call Caroline. The package has arrived. This event made me a believer in Fed Ex. The London and Dublin staff went out of their way to deliver the package. They cared and kept in contact.
We are not so lucky with the laundry. I think I told you that on arrival on Saturday, Bill and I tried first to find a self laundry and failing, left the dirty clothes at the laundry to be picked up on Monday.
Caroline tried to pickup. They could find mine but not Bill's. The owner apparently has a unique system of inventory which no one understands. Since the owner was not there, we have to return before 4:30 closing to retrieve Bill's.
We leave at 7 AM for a train to Wexford tomorrow. This is before store opening. The clock ticks the rest of the afternoon.
Caroline takes a cab and meets us at a restaurant across from Temple Bar. The restaurant is full. The food is above average and slightly pricey.
As we eat and wait for Caroline, we decide that we should take afternoon tea. The recommendation is the Shelbroune Hotel (Marriott). It is the highest rated. It is next to St. Stephen's Green and it is a beautiful day for a walk. Betty has not had a chance to see Central Dublin so a short walking tour is in order.
Caroline arrives. Betty orders several cookbooks from the restaurant. The books will be shipped. We pay the bill.
It is a little further to St Stephen's Green than we remember. Yep, we got lost trying to impress Betty with my knowledge and familiarity with Dublin.
The plan is to take a leisurely walk through St Stephen's. Betty is not as impressed with the historical placards invoking the follies of the Easter Uprising as I am. And, justly so. However, we do read about Countess Constance Markievicz. Between 1911 and 1920, she was imprisoned by the British government four times for acts of treason (one man's terrorist is another man's martyr). Being a true revolutionist, she was imprisoned by the Irish Government for treason.
The Countess was sentenced to death by firing squad for her actions during the Easter Rising. She was spared because of her gender.
Women were heroes during the Rising and probably more realistic on the lack of skill (common sense) of the Irish leaders.
On reflection, the Irish Rebellion has two faces. The first, those who sought independence from England - that was their fight. Their grievances were against the oppression of this foreigner too long on their soil. They fought for self determination.
The other rebels were anarchists. Theirs was to create a social and political revolution that would roll through the world once it left Ireland. They did not see Ireland as a country but as the beginning of the end of oppression by the capitalistic system.  To them, it was a world revolution to be won when class distinctions were eliminated.
Both were martyrs in achieving independence for Ireland. Both caused needless deaths. Both were really incompetent militarily. Both were willing to betray others to achieve. Both gloried in their martyrs. Both were martyred by a cruel and sadistic English government. And often, they were the same people.
I prefer the rebels for independence. The other vision is just another form of oppression - just not as well dressed.
Based on the Communist bookstore in Temple Bar - the revolutionists are live and well in Dublin.
We cross the street to the Shelbroune. The British had placed machines on the third floor overlooking the green. With a clean field of fire, John Connolly and the other leaders again proved that they were better at being shot than shooting.
The Shelbroune is a grand hotel. It is splendid. We are early for the 3 PM Tea Serving. We wait in the lobby and the staff prepare the tables. Others arrive. Several are hotel guests. Others appear to locals celebrating an event or an afternoon.
We are seated. The menu of beverages is presented. We elected not to have the champagne. The selection of teas is extensive and interesting. I have the house tea. Betty has the matcha tea latte. Bill and Caroline select other teas.
The room is full. to our right and left are women - apparently local - out for an afternoon. They are having champagne.
The tea is served in the traditional manner with a silver tea strainer held by the server as she pours the tea.
The tiered tray arrives with petite sandwiches (savones) on the lower tiers and pastries on the top tiers.
The sandwiches are tasteful. The pastries are by the hotel's pastry chef and also tasteful.
Unfortunately, the food and ambience cannot overcome the poor service. I have no idea what the issues were but the service derailed a memorable occasion.
We finish about 4 PM. Outside the doorman locates a cab for us. Again, the driver cannot locate our residence on his GPS/ as the meter runs. Again, Caroline takes charge and turn by turn guides him.
Bill and I leave immediately to the laundry. Sure enough, the owner's system is perfect - who doubted - she does offer a slight apology for her assistant's lack of skill - we leave thinking how well that went.
It is a short dinner. We pack since we need to leave for an 8:40 AM train. It appears that the train station is not far away by cab, but it will be rush hour.
So far we have missed or lost some charger cables. But, other than that.
Tomorrow - Wexford.

"the light music of whiskey falling into glasses"

It is a glorious Sunday in Dublin.
It turns out to be a great decision. I bought the tickets online. I looked at several tour sites - Trip Advisor, Viator and others. I discovered that the best site was the Guinness Storehouse site. Best exhibition of the advantages of the various tours and the pricing appropriate. There are three tours and the objective is to get to the fifth floor bar for a pour of Guinness. Learning is not mandatory.
The basic tour achieves the objective and you learn on the way.
A pint of Guinness is a chalice. At the first sip, you are blind to the realities outside the cool, creamy cocoon of you and the glass. For those milliseconds, the strangers around you are neither your betters nor less. The Irish intrinsically are revolutionists and are uncomfortable with wealth. Centuries of absentee landowners will do that to you. So maybe in the quiet moment, you are better than the lordly gentleman drinking his claret.
It is an Irishman's prayer. Heaven is Guinness on tap.
The symbol of Guinness is the Irish harp facing left. The harp was adopted in 1862 and trademarked in 1875. The Irish government "coat of arms" faces to the right.
Or, at least, the Irish would say.
Guinness was founded in 1759 by Arthur Guinness at St James's Gate. Arthur was smart enough to take a 1,000 year lease on the property. Presently, Guinness is brewed in almost 50 countries and sales in over 120.
The Irish are very proud of the 1,000 year lease - "stick it to the man" approach to capitalism.
The steps to the Fifth floor are informative. Guinness is nitrogenerated. Guinness is best served at 45 degrees Fahrenheit. Both of these qualities make the product on tap preferred and not quite prefect in the bottle.
Guinness is not black. It is ruby red. Next time, hold your first pint to the light. By knowing this simple fact, you will appear to be an experienced drinker of "the creamy, dreamy", a world traveler and de facto, Irish. 
I will also mention that the glass makes a different. A thicker glass holds the beer at the ideal temperature longer.
The other strengths are the hops and the barley which is brewed at exactly 232 degrees Celsius (449.6 F). How they discovered that seems to be secret.
The 10:15 entry is perfect. We are not tripping over the tours in front of us and the larger tour groups are still an hour away. The objective is the pour.
Caroline, Bill and I take the walk up the stairs and learn about Guinness and the products. Betty views a few exhibits and takes the elevator to the fifth floor. Her foot is still healing and painful.
We arrive at the fifth floor bar for our free pint. At 11:20, the best window seats in the glass circular room are few. Betty has saved us great seats.
We have lunch on the fourth floor. The fourth floor offers multiple restaurants. We chose the cafeteria. Great Choice. "The best Irish Stew I have ever eaten" is not historic Irish - it has meat. The star of the stew is the gravy. It makes the dish.
I have the oysters. Oysters and Guinness are epicurcean. Yep, they go together well.
Of course, another Guinness.
We have 2:20 PM tickets at Teeling Distillery. Lunch and Gift Shopping is leisurely. A cab to Teeling is 7 minutes away. We are warm inside and the day is comfortable outside.
The origin of the word - Whiskey - may be from either Ireland and Scotland. "Uisge beatha" or "usuebaugh" is Gaelic for "water of life". A translation from the Latin, "aqua vitae" describes the joy of Spirits. Both Ireland and Scotland claim to have given birth to whiskey.
At one time, Ireland produced approximately 60% of the whiskey consumed in the western world. Because of over production (quantity over quality), trade war with England and Prohibition, Irish Whiskey consumption dropped to 6% of the world market.
Dublin had 37 distilleries. By 2010, there was not a distillery in Dublin.
Fortunately, there has been a rebirth of Irish Whiskey. Irish whiskey is differentiated from other whiskeys by being tripled distilled, using unmalted barley and in barrel for 3 years.
(Tennessee whiskey is at least 51% corn and aged in barrel for a minimum of 2 years)
Again, I found that the best way to order tickets is online and from the distillery's website. The issue with the tour websites are that they broker "tour" groups who may have a mark up and tend to promote the more expensive tours and/or their services which may or may not be worth the additional cost. As always, shop.
We have chosen the second tier tour which involves a tasting of Teeling whiskeys at the end of tour.
Teeling is an Irish whiskey distillery established in Dublin in 2015. It is the first new distillery to have opened in Dublin in over 125 years. The last of the original Dublin distilleries closed in 1976.
The distillery was founded by Jack and Stephen Teeling, whose father John Teeling had founded the Cooley Distillery in 1987.
Located in Dublin's "Liberties" area (the historical epicentre of distilling dubbed the "golden triangle" of Irish whiskey), it is close to where Walter Teeling, an ancestor of the family had established a distillery on Marrowbone Lane in 1782.
The first whiskey produced at this distillery was released in November of this year. Teeling has been bottling and selling the whiskeys from the 16,000 casks that their father, John, had negotiated when Cooley Distillery was sold to Jim Beam.
The tour was excellent. It is informative and moves to the tasting with speed.
The tour outlines the history of whiskey in Ireland and Dublin. Teeling is triple distilled. It is remarkable small operation. It is simple and direct.
The objective is consistent - produce alcohol.
When the unmalted barley has started to shoot, the germination is stopped by drying in a kiln using wood and other sources including peat.
This grounded "malt" is now called "grist". "Grist" is converted into "mash" using water. The water for Teeling comes from a specific source outside of Dublin.
The process results in "wort" - "the sugars in the malt dissolve and these are drawn off through the bottom of the mash tun".
Yeast is added to the "wort" which turns the sugars into alcohol.  This liquid is low in alcohol (similar to beer and ale) and is called "wash". The process, at this point, is the same as beer.
It is the distillation process increase the alcohol. Irish whiskey is distilled three times - but at this point - the alcohol could be gin or volka.
The taste and quality of the whiskey is a combination of the water, yeast, barrels and, the key, the skill of the stillman.
Barrels give the alcohol it's color and flavor. Today, distilleries use barrels from the wineries of California, Spain, France, other whiskey barrels and experimentations.
As we finished the tour, we see the first barrel of Dublin distilled Irish whiskey to be released for nearly 50 years. Bottle No. #1 sold at auction in September for 10,000 sterling. The sale went to local charities.
Finally, we enter the tasting room. We have a tasting of four Teeling whiskeys (bottled from John Teeling's 16,000 casks). They were all great, Bill, Caroline and I liked the least expensive best.
It was smooth, excellent "nose" and it tasted great.
We meet Betty in the cafe and shop the gift shop.
It is almost 4:30. We easily located a cab. Unfortunately, the cab cannot locate our residence - even with GPS. With the meter running, Caroline has anticipated the problem and has the directions on her phone.
A turn here and a turn there. Oops, turn back to the previous corner turn left. Caroline saved the day and reduced the driver's income. In the driver's defense, not a lot of cabs in the area and a number of one way streets.
We are home. And, dinner is whatever is in the refrigerator.
P.S. Guinness is owned by Diageo plc located in London. It is in good company with other brands, such as, Johnnie Walker.

"Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy"

Ireland is an island divided between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland which is part of the United Kingdom. The Republic occupies five-sixths of the island with a population slightly less than 4,800,000.
Dublin is the largest city of the Republic. Population of the city is estimated at 554,000. The Dublin metropolitan population is approximately 1,250,000.
Irish history is one of conflict and oppression. The present peace and prosperity began in 1998 with the Good Friday Agreement. It remains an uneasy truce.
Approximately, 12,000,000 people have migrated from Ireland in the last 200 years. Approximately. one million people died from starvation in Ireland from 1846 to 1851. During these years, Ireland lost 20% -25% of its population from deaths and migration.
The first positive growth is population was 2008.
The Republic of Ireland is a member of the EU.

The Irish are a maudlin people. They are quick tempered, dry sense of humor, quick to weep and resolute in their fate. In summary, a great people.
I am Irish according to my mother and 61% by 23andme.

It is Saturday in Dublin.
Bill and I are up early. There is a bakery down the street for coffee and muffin.
Our residence is a small house and recently renovated. It is in an older section of the city and across the river Iffy. I am guessing the row house was built in the late 1800's.
Dublin's older residential architecture is noticeably different than London. The houses are 2 story versus 3-6 in London. Materials are brown brick as opposed to red brick or stone. Dublin was neutral during WWII and did not suffer the damage that London did.
Caroline is sleeping on the pull-out in the TV/Living Room. Leaving for coffee, we let Betty and Caroline sleep a little longer.
Bakery is a misnomer. We sit outside as the delivery truck delivers the baked goods for the day. So, it is a bakery store. The biscuits are good and the coffee strong. It is a great day. We are in Dublin.
Caroline is dressing as we get back. Bill and I have walked the local community and found a sign which says "the city" with an arrow pointing to a left turn.
I have read very little about Dublin. James Joyce forgive me. In literature and history, the cities are London, Paris and Rome, literary geniuses did not go to Dublin to drink or write. I venture that the old Dublin was the Gary Indiana or Detroit of Europe - you were from there and left when you had bus fare.
Dublin has definitely changed. It is young, active and progressive. It has gentrified and quickly.
Caroline is in charge. She has confidence. She knows where she is going and it is Temple Bar.
We leave the house. Turn left at the light. Turn left at the arrow and cross a bridge. Almost all European cities are river cities. The Iffey flows through Dublin to the sea. The Iffey is neither as broad as the Seine nor the Thames. It is not a working river. It is swift flowing and separates Dublin surely as the viaducts separates neighborhoods in Chicago.
We pass Christ Church and wonder up to the door. There is price to pay to enter. It is the Church of Ireland so our salvation is not dependent on the price.
As I found out during the trip - all Churches were Catholic at creation. The two centuries of Reformation eliminated that simplicity. Be honest, did you know that there was a Church of Ireland? This became a common comment on the journey. "I did not know."
Within Minutes of leaving the church, we have entered the social and mercantile center of Dublin. Betty, as always, has done well. We are close to the events and locations, but several hundred dollars less.
Temple Bar is a place - actually, a very large bar with a lot of bars inside. Temple Bar is also a destination. You have entered Dublin (tourist) - enjoy the numerous bars, restaurants and a Communist Bookstore. Temple Bar is a definition - it is young, assertive, fun, progressive and open 23 hours a day.
We find the "place" and decide that we need a coffee at the shop across the street (street is not correct - more like 20 feet that divide one side of a building from another with a walkway in between.
After coffee, we walk to find Molly Malone. Molly is a statute in front of St Andrews Church. The statute of this fish monger is from the unofficial song of Dublin "Cockles and Mussels". It was donated in 1988 by the Jury Hotel. Unofficially, Molly was a professional woman. Her creator gave her an ample bosom which tradition has glistened by tourists climbing the statue to touch.
With no specific destination, we walk across Fleet Street and meander to Grafton Street which is a pedestrian shopping street.
At the end of the street is the entrance to St. Stephen's Green. The Green is a beautiful park. St Stephen's Green is a singular best exhibit on why there are, have not been or will be never great Irish Generals.
As you walk the Green, there are neat permanent placards posted at various historical sites within the park where the Irish rebels took on the British army in 1916 - the Easter Rising. Although the Rising began the successful rebellion with resulted in the Republic in 1922, it was a Tarantino movie of inglorious acts that got good men and women killed.
Briefly, the Irish rebels took the low ground in the park with tall buildings above them; they forgot to take the telegraph office (the British quickly responded); the guns (no machine guns) from the Germans were captured and did not arrive and three quarters of the rebels did not show since they thought it was bad idea to not be armed going into combat.
But, there were glorious acts of bravery and selflessness. The British acted like brutes and made martyrs of the rebels.  The British rule in Ireland - extending in to the 1990s - is only matched by the British rule of India and China. And in some ways, far worse in longevity and cruelty.
Great Park. Brave people - just not great generals.
We are hungry and head is to the Temple Bar area. Guinness and pizza in a local bar. It is my first order of Guinness in a bar. There is a tradition to a pour. Guinness is to be served a 45 degrees. Guinness has nitrogen injected which creates the distinctive cream on top. The bar person pulls til the pint glass is 3/4 full. The glass sits while the bubbles settle (@ minute). The bar person fills to the top. Do not reach for the glass. You wait until it has settled again and the bar person hands to you.
You now know why Guinness on tap is "neither far nor near" in the US.
We walk to the Dublin Castle. The Castle began as a fortress to guard the river. It was not successful and the Vikings quickly overwhelmed and came back every year to pillage. Eventually, the double mileage credits ran out and the two households costly,
Dublin is a Viking city and the Irish are very comfortable with the Norsemen heritage and genes.
The fortress became British with William the Conqueror and the emblem of British rule for over 800 years.
The Castle is not much of a Castle when compared to the castles of Europe and England. The rooms are smaller; there is wood instead of marble; the paintings are of Viceroys and Earls.
The Castle is the home of the President of the Republic and is used for public functions and international events.
We are exhausted. We started mid morning and we are now walking home. It is late afternoon. We stop to buy dinner.
Tomorrow - we drink. Guinness Storehouse and Teeling Whiskey.

"Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub"

It is Friday morning and very early.
We have a flight on Aer Lingus out of Gatwick to Dublin. There is a complacency in visiting a city for the second time. Then, something happens and you realize how little you know.
"How do I get to Gatwick?". "Where is Gatwick?" "What if I screw up and we miss the flight?"
I have done research and it is two underground rides and one train. Sounds like Gatwick is not close. In fact, Gatwick is the second largest airport in the London area.
I have decided after consultation with Caroline that we can remove some of the turmoil by taking taxi or Uber to the train station instead of the Underground.
I have been using an app called Mytaxi and it works, but I am not confident. We need to leave the apartment @6 AM. Our flight is 10:10. I am allowing an hour plus to the airport and an hour for security. Yes, this means that I am one of those people who get nervous waiting for a bus.
The decision is made easy by the fact that no taxi appears available on the screen. An Uber driver is five minutes away.
Let me explain - telecommunications and Internet are not truly worldwide. For US telecommunication companies, it is a patchwork of technology and agreements. Because of that, use of your cellphone is not inexpensive. If you do not work at it, it becomes very expensive quickly. The short lesson is turn off cellular data and use WIFI whenever you can.
All this planning goes out the window - when access to the WIFI ends at the street. Our recourse is to turn on our limited and precious cellar data and try to locate to locate an Uber driver.
He is 3 minutes away. Caroline states the obvious - what if the Uber vehicle is too small for the four of us and our luggage. I am running out of prayers. Is there a patron saint for this situation. I am now angry at myself for limited research.
A Citroen Grand Picasso (comment - why would a car company named a van after Picasso) turns the corner and moves slowly toward us. He smiles and I am relieved.
Our experience this trip with London Taxis has not been the best. Over our six day stay, I have begun to notice that the drivers seem to be padding the tap by increasing the number of occupants from 4 to 5 and sometimes 6.
Based on this apparent mistake - I find Uber more reassuring. Also, I note on this trip to London that Taxi drivers seem not to be as knowledgeable about addresses as previously I can see why Uber is very popular.
The driver drops us off at the train station. There are a number of public transportation systems in London area about half are public and half private. We are experienced Underground users. We have not used the bus system. We have used the train system from London to Oxford and London to Paris and back. We now learn about the Metro Train system.
It is efficient - Underground above ground. It is also crowded which is reassuring. People with luggage - I have got to be going the right way.
Two stops and more people. It is Friday and long weekends. Gatwick is the home of many of Europe's low cost airlines. The airport is jammed with people moving forward. And, I am suppose to know where and what to do. I bought the tickets.
We locate Aer Lingus and their terminal. You move with the masses.The signs are explanatory. "Security this way". I am not familiar with the system, but seems to be easy. Find an entry gate, flash your boarding pass on the reader and smile at the camera above you. I have all the boarding passes so I have to flash as Betty, Caroline, Bill and myself pass approvingly through the gate. No pressure - there are only thousands in front of us and tens of thousands behind us. All moving at you with crushing confidence - hell, there are only seventeen of the gates.
I fumble through and we move onto security. Shoes, Belts, Computers, Body Scans - it is Orwellian.
I am pulled out and given a pat down and screening. We all fumble. It is 8 AM in the morning. Short of sleep, disoriented - strangers in a strange land.
I start to look for gate information. There is none. In Europe (yes, the UK and Ireland are Europe), they do not post your gate until about a half hour before takeoff and, more importantly, about 20 minutes before final boarding.
Leaving security, you are forced to enter the maze of "duty free" shops. Think IKEA. You literally are forced to walk by liquors, perfume, handbags etc. The path is "S" shaped. You can see the end. There are no shortcuts. Five minutes and you are dumped into large food court with hundreds of people standing in front of the two hanging monitors announcing that your gate is not posted yet.
At Gatwick, you have to take an escalator to the food court. We have little over an hour to wait before the gate announcement. We find seats. We lay out our carry-on and backpacks and try to relax. Get a cup of coffee and something to eat.
Seating is barely adequate for the number of passengers. The seats with a table require purchase by Nanda (A London Portuguese oriented fast food chain - no earthly reason why they serve breakfast).
So we find chairs and spread out. Coffee and breakfast are eaten out of our laps.
Finally, our gate is posted - B17. How far away can B17 be? It is a long way. I will never, never complained about O'Hare again. We walk and check. It cannot be this far. Oh, yes it can.
We arrive 10 minutes later with priority already boarded. The number of those precious overhead spaces has dwindled. I never figured out in 32 days how we always got beat so badly to the assigned gate. There is a trick.
The gate attendant looks at our boarding pass and flashes across a screen. Chaos.
I am told that when we entered security by flashing our "check in boarding pass" and passport that I failed to coordinate the specific boarding pass with the photo being taken. Gatwick security is high tech. Apparently, they track you through the airport by facial recognition.
I am watching the "gate keeper" eyes glisten as he sees that he is about to prove his superiority to hopeless tourists. Fortunately, the security person beyond the desk is more sensible and a few cliches and she has corrected the problem.
Most importantly, our carry-on luggage passes the test. Betty was confident since she had gone out of her way to assure conformity. I was not as confident having heard stories and read "traveler tips" about European airlines curse on carry-on and as a true revenue source.
I did hedge my bets slightly by paying a few Pounds Sterling more for carry-on and priority boarding.
We move to our seats; lift our carry-on and stow our backpacks at our feet.
The Aer Lingus plane is new and seats are better than US carriers. The cabin staff are efficient and polite for the one hour flight to Dublin.
I have found that the most trying part of arriving in a new city is how do I get from airport to hotel or rental. And, how much is it going to cost and how much will I overpay.
What we have come to expect - we walk about a quarter of a mile to exit airport. Dublin does not have an underground. It is buses or taxis.
We locate the Taxi Station; hire a cab and try to help the driver find the address. The driver is a great guy. He makes a cell phone call and locates directions. Now, in this age of google maps and GPS on phones - why commonly, the drivers always seemed to get slightly disoriented - I have no idea. Not all - but about 40% of the time. Several times, Caroline had to open up her app to assure the drivers had not gotten lost. Of course, there are no discounts for mileage while lost.
Betty has done a great job scouting and booking a rental. We are in a great neighborhood. It is a house with a great little kitchen and two bedrooms.
We settle in. Betty has forgotten one of her prescriptions and Bonnie has Fed Ex to the owner's supplied address. It should have arrived prior to our arrival. It has not. The Fed Ex driver could not locate the address given (sounds like everyone has this problem).
Betty confidently resolves the problem with Fed Ex (who were great) and arranges delivery Monday. We leave Tuesday. If we miss, it will be almost impossible for the prescription to catch up with us.
We have been on the road for seven days and some laundry needs to be done.
We locate on Google one self service laundry. Bill and I walk there. Closed and it looks like "to infinity and beyond". Returning, Caroline locates another laundry but not self service. We leave our dirties. Tomorrow they are open to 2 PM and close on Sunday. So it is Monday.
Bill and I go food shopping. Great location. A market is down the street. It is the typical European Grocery store - all the necessities and nothing more. This store has a small deli section which is well used.
We return with food, wine and desert. Television is upstairs. The room is small but it is great way to end a long day.
Tomorrow is Guinness and Teeling Whiskey.

"Please Mind the Gap between Station and Train"

It is Wednesday.
We have been looking forward to our next tour of the British Museum. An intelligent person or people like me, must have the British Museum on their bucket list.

We are up early. The weather is not bad, a little cooler and breezy. This morning I got up early to get a cup of coffee and a biscuit.

I note in my travels that there are more and more coffee shops. Small business people - usually, young - opening their concept of the prefect shop. You do not see tea shops. London, the whole of the UK and Ireland have returned to Boswellian times. Only Starbucks has brewed coffee guaranteed. It is called filtered and only skimmed or partial skimmed milk.

In Italy during our first adventure, I found that the closest to brewed coffee was Americano. Now I find that I have to order Americano with milk. Obviously, it is more expensive. In Italy, "caffe" (expresso) price is set by the government. In the UK and Ireland, you are paying latte prices for a shoot of expresso and hot water. Starbucks works for me.

A note for travelers and investors in Costa (large coffee shop chain in UK) avoid and only as last resort. It is expensive: their internet is open and,therefore, unsecure) and open at 8 AM. The only consistent coffee shop open at 7 AM is Starbucks.
Actually, the common opening time for all business is 9 AM. There are exceptions - Tesco Express (small grocery) & Gregg's (small sandwich shop). Try to find a cup of coffee before 7AM - walk.
Another issue is I now understand  and the price of coffee beans and its volatility.

Every day hundreds of millions cups of coffee. And more each year. Coffee is raised in only a few places in the world. I also think about chocolate. Makes you think - plastic coffee bean.

We take the Piccadilly Underground to the Station a station near the Museum. Last time, we came via the District Line - different station. I have now learnt that like streets - it is easy to get disoriented in London. The walk looks different. Actually, this is a good thing. Same trip - just different.
The museum looks the same. It is free and immense. There is no queue.

We pass James Smith & Sons Umbrellas. Some day, I am going to order a basic black James Smith & Sons Umbrella.

We stop for lunch at a museum cafe and an orientation. It is agreed to meet again in two and half hours at the Museum's pizzeria.

I am myself. I thought I knew the Museum. I do not. I am lost almost immediately. I am stuck in the ancient world and cannot get out. Last time, I could not find the mummies. Now, I am starting to give them nicknames as a pass the same ones again and again. Next time, no ego - take a free map.
It is interesting. I begin to understand how large of a collection the British Museum has. What they display is a small exhibit of the collections. The British Museum remains a working museum. New collections - research - is going on at all times.

I spend time in the Levant exhibit. How little we know of the Middle East and its past. How much we assume. I realize that Egyptian cultural is totally separate from the rest of what we now lump together as the Middle East. The Egyptian did not look like his neighbor the Arab. His language was different.

We separate cultures. Yet, great - the Sumerians, the Assyrians, the Babylonians - all existed within the framework of the Old and New Kingdoms. We are not taught the Canaanites included tribes of Phoenician, Hebrew, Ammonite, Moabite and Edomites. These small nomadic and settled tribes shared a language, culture and land.

I remember that there is no historical proof for David or Solomon. There is no historical record of Moses or the Exodus.

These tribal battles are still unresolved. They have expanded. We still are fighting over a piece of land in Caanan which by myth has become a battle of good and evil and the End of the World. One tribe's belief in salvation is rewarded by the total destruction of all life by a God who, a few chapter before, is described as merciful.

I am lost in a Museum and I am so happy. I am lost in my thoughts. I wonder the floors looking at exhibits and people. My interest vary.

I decide I have two objectives - the Rosetta Stone and the remains from the Parthenon. I start to work my way logically through the ages- I start at 3,500 BC and keep moving. Left corridor. Then, the right. Oops, been there. Let's try right then left.

I find the Rosetta Stone first. It is not large. It is a dark stone. There are always cameras with people attached. I find the Rosetta Stone reassuring. Science will defeat ignorance - just takes a long time.

I love the Parthenon that Lord Elgin borrowed. I am glad he did. He undoubtedly saved the pieces. Still, he did steal them.

I am back in the center Pavilion. I am early. I see Betty and Caroline walk by. I am confident they will come back. Thirty-five minutes later I am beginning to think they are lost. At forty-five minutes I try to call and text. How can they do this to me?

Answer. I am in the wrong place. I did not listen to the instruction to meet at the Museum Pizzeria. I am flustered. I am embarrassed. Betty, Caroline and Bill are generous. The Pizzeria has closed. But, they have takeaway for me.

It is 4 PM and just enough time to catch a black cab to The British Library. The Library is very much a working library. Only the exhibit room on the second floor is open to the public. That is more than enough. You view Gutenberg Bible (the Chinese developed moveable type about the same time and maybe like pasta - Gutenberg may have taken an idea and made it better), the Beatles, Alice, Schubert, Audubon, Shakespeare and so much more. I am always comforted when I visit.

The Library closes at 6 PM and we take the underground to Barons Court. We want London Curry. There is a recommended Indian restaurant around the corner. That corner is a quarter of a mile away.
The restaurant is remarkable small. Three or four tables inside and two outside. The inside tables are taken. We sit down outside. They ask if we want the heaters on.

I have to run to the Sainsbury Limited across the street. When I return we order. The waiter is friendly and helpful with ordering. There is not as much curry on the menu as I hoped. The menu is interesting. The waiter guides us to our taste and tolerance to spicy and very hot.

Inside table is available and we share a very small table. The food arrives. It is very good. I plan to try Indian food in States for more comparison.
Tomorrow is travel day to Dublin.

"The man who can dominate a London dinner-table can dominate the world"

Today is Tuesday. Bill, Caroline and I tour Westminster Abbey.
I think Westminster is top on Bill's list. I have been once, Caroline twice. Even then, Westminster Abbey is enjoyed.
A little longer underground ride than our previous visit. Hammersmith section is different than Notting Hill and Keningston/Chelsea area. Those city areas are gentrified. Hammersmith is in the process. London is unbelievable expensive, crowded and difficult. I like the city a lot as a visitation  for a short duration.
We cross the street carefully to a waiting line. There is a church service going on and entry is delayed. A short wait, we enter the "q" (not certain, if it is "Q" or "q" or queue) for tickets.
Westminster Abbey has changed. Stephen Hawking's ashes are now buried next to Newton and Darwin. Things have not changed, Mary I still lies under Elizabeth I. All remains as it should be.
We miss so much. Jeremy Irons remains assured on the hand held audio tour. He is authoritative, but lost. The exhibit signs are small and unobtrusive. Invisible was the goal and achieved.
You are forever looking for station 9 and can only find Station 14 the tomb of Edward the Confessor. I wanted to see Livingstone (his heart is in Zambia). There are over 3,300 burials or memorials in Westminster. The last monarch buried is George II.
Again, I am reminded that preparation the night before solves a great deal of the confusion. Download maps or take a screen shot - works.
The tour ends at Poets' Corner. I finish slightly sooner than Caroline and Bill. I fall into conversation with one of the service people. She is new to the job - only a few weeks. She is a very intelligent young lady. She is excited about this opportunity with a degree in Art. Like another young person I met working in a coffee shop who has a University degree in bio-something, these young people are excited and confident about their future. I know I would hire them.
We walk to Trafalgar Square along St James Park. We purchase sandwiches at Pret a Manger and picnic on the steps of the National Gallery of Art. It is sunny and warm. The steps are full of families and students. The neon pink lion is still there.
Finishing, we cross again to the edge of St James Park and cross the parade grounds for Queen's Household Guard. On the way to lunch, the guard had two dismounted guards at the front gate. The horses were remarkable. Children and adults crowding them. petting and taking photos. The horses remained calm. Very impressive.
As we walk up to the Churchill War Rooms, we are surprised by the length of the line. Apparently, there is a rush for touring the museum.
A young museum employee tells us and others that it will an hour from this point. He seems confident.
I decide that I need to find a toilet. With an hour wait, I have expectations that I can find a men's toilet within an hour. I am wrong. A quarter of mile, I find a men's public toilet. There is a turnstile and a charge of 50 schillings. The turnstile neither makes change nor accepts credit card. I now have to enter the Underground Station and purchase a coke to get the correct amount.
As I enter washroom, there are five young men in front of me. The washroom smells. It is old, dirty and one does not linger. On the way out, the turnstile does not turn and I do not wait. I know what do you expect for 50 pence.
I am now forty minutes into what should have a ten minute sojourn.
There is no line. Caroline and Bill are waiting for me at the entrance. They have stepped out of line twice waiting for me. Apparently, the young man was wrong. It was a twenty minute line.
Caroline and Bill are gracious. Their patience is thinner when although at the front of the line, it takes another five minutes for us to enter - as VIP's and advance ticket holders have preference.
Of course, the washrooms are handy and immaculate.
The Churchill War Rooms are better known now because of recent movies "Dunkirk" and "Darkest Hour'. They have improved the exhibits and the experience. The free hand held self guide tour is excellent.
The big chance is that the portion of the tour that focuses on Churchill's life and career is now in the middle instead of the end of the exhibit.
It makes a little more sense - and, I am sure that the reason is to assure that the public learn more about the man than simply look at rooms.
The exhibit remains honest about Churchill. Churchill is a complex person. As I said before, in this period of history, his weaknesses were his strength. His greatest strength was the ability to fail and rise again.
The staff of the War Rooms were remarkable. Difficult living conditions. I am sure that there was pettiness, harassment and discrimination. Brutality. Love. Hate. Injustice. All suffered in a common cause to defeat an evil that would have consumed and destroyed a world that might be better.
Caroline and I decide that Bill needs to enjoy Honest Burger. Caroline finds that there is an Honest Burger near the Hammersmith Station - one stop past our station. It is definitely within walking distance of the apartment.
As we exit the station, Caroline has this great app that works off Google Map without using an Internet connection. We are all limited to 512 MB for 30 days. We are constantly looking for WIFI.
Honest Burger is around the corner in a small two story building with the kitchen. I doubt think Bill understands the attraction - it is a very good burger, but...
Caroline orders a cocktail. Bill and I order a local beer. My burger is a spicy and very good. Bill orders an Honest Burger.
The waitress is not impressed that we are from the US and made a special trip to Honest Burger. I think it has to do with the stairs and a crowded room and only two servers.
We finish. Caroline has ordered takeaway for Betty. We begin our walk back to the apartment. There is still evening light. We know the way well. As it gets darker, we can look into living rooms. The television is on. The lights are on. Apparently, everyone feels safe. Pubs, Coffee shops and ethnic restaurants are the scenery.
At the apartment, I repeat my ritual -wallet, phone, glasses and money.
Britain changed the 5 and 10 Pound Notes - They are plastic and smaller. The problem is that they are slippery and can come out of your pockets. I have to be careful. Also, the feel in your pocket is similar to receipt paper. So you think that five pound note is safe - until you pull out a slick paper receipt. Best advice - all paper money in wallet immediately.
Tomorrow is British Museum.

"Our bodies are our gardens, to which our wills are gardeners"

Our third day in London is warm and windy. It is warm for London in September about 68. There is the remains of a hurricane pushing warm air across southern England for the next few days.
The wind has a cooling effect and makes it overall very comfortable.
On Sunday morning we purchased Oyster Cards. Oyster Cards are key to transportation in London. As I mentioned, transportation is expensive in London and that includes the Underground. Purchasing an Oyster Card reduces that expense by some discounting and is convenient. Swap the card through the turnstile. London and Paris uses zones as the meter on how much the ride will cost. As you exit your destination train station you flash your card again to pass through the turnstile.
The Underground is extensive and finding the correct train is quick to learn - look for your destination and what color the line is. Trace that line to its final destination - check the direction. You got it.
We take the District Line to Westminster. We have London Passes which include Tour ride on the Thames River. London Passes do offer discounts and come in 1-2-3 etc days. They are not as useful as the Florence & Paris Passes which allow you to avoid the "Q" (I had to do that "line").
Sites in London - Museums are free - are in the 22 sterling range, any discount is helpful.
We have a three day pass which begins with our Thames ride.
The tour boat is large and reasonably comfortable. The passengers are protected by clear plastic so the wind of the river is negated. There is a snack bar. The guide is informative with a clever sense of humor. It is enjoyable ride down the Thames to the Tower of London.
In the past, I have commented on tourist etiquette. I also realize that sterotyping leads to poor generalizations. Moreover, I am not without guilt. But, you can tell often a group's nationality by their conduct.
In this journey down the Thames - the Japanese tour group displayed all the impolite mannerism that are associated with a "tourist".
A gentleman edges his way in front of the snack line and keeps waving his credit card in front of his face and keeps ordering his order. I grant there is a language issue - but to learn "please", "thank you" seems easy. On an online tutor for languages - Durlingo - Japan has the highest percentage of participants.
The Captain suggests that tourists do not need to move to one side of the boat for photos of the Tower Bridge - better views will be shortly - of course, the Japanese tourist rush.
My learning experience from this is - do not bring the ordinary life mannerism to another country. I do think a lot of it is language and lack of familiarity with a different live style. But, it is annoying.
The Tower is still there. Last time, it was cold and wet. The Tower (actually a castle) looks grander and larger.
We stop for a refresher - coffee and water. We separate - Bill by himself and Caroline and I and Betty by herself. Betty has been here at least three times, so her focus is to see the Crown Jewels.
Bill, Caroline and I head to the Armory. Twenty nine months ago, we did not tour this exhibit.
The knight armor exhibit is interesting. The armor gives you a sense of the size of these men.
With Henry VIII, it is the girth of his armor. I understand he was reportedly over 300 lbs and, judging from the armor, not especially tall. Perhaps, his health and size had something to do with his temperament later in life.
The Crown Jewels has improved. They have made slight changes. To my memory, the explanations of the various exhibits has improved. I do like the escalator that moves you past the "Queen's Crown". No loitering - in a very subtle way.
Caroline and I have separated from Bill. We watch the changing of the guard in front of the Crown Jewels building. We move to a favorite area the prison and zoo.
The exhibit begins with torture devices. The exhibits keep saying that there were not many prisoners or executions. But, when you start counting - there were a lot.
We move quickly. We have seen before but still interesting that across the castle's walls - London is across the street. Buses, cars and people out on lunch break.
We gather again at snack shop and go to lunch at Pret a Manger. They are everywhere. We find a table outside. Be selective. Caroline's meatball sandwich was onions. Stay with your favorite.
We walk to the Underground and from this different angle we gain an appreciation of the size of the castle.h
By the time, we reach St Paul's Cathedral it 4:30 and the church has closed to tourists.The church opens again at 5 PM for evening services. We can climb neither the dome or visit the cribs underneath. We are disappointed.
Shakespeare's Globe Theater opens at 7 PM. We have tickets for Othello. The theatre is within walking distance of St Paul's and visible from the river.
The theatre is a recreation of the original Globe including open to the elements, thatched, benches and standing only on the first floor.
We have a light dinner at a restaurant across from St Paul. It is pleasant. Later,when viewing a photo of the area around St Paul during the German bombing (The Blitz) we find that the restaurant was in the only building standing - on the corner and a restaurant.
As always, we have ordered online. So we need to arrive early.
The Globe is a very short walk from St Paul. It is across a magnificent pedestrian bridge across the Thames. The Millennium Bridge was dedicated in 2000. It is beautiful and functional. Looking back over the foot bridge, the lines of the bridge are drawn directly to the dome of St. Paul.
I am my usual apprehensive self. What line? Do I need to go to ticket pickup? Are the printed online paper our tickets. We are on the top gallery. I have not told Betty that there are benches, not seats. The only comfort will be the cushions I paid extra for.
I work my way through the first series of issues - the online is fine, our entrance is in the front of the building, and the cushions are adequate.
Now, we have to deal with climbing to the top. Betty broke her foot several months ago and recovery has been slow. The apartment has an elevator which has helped. But, it takes a lot of courage and effort to walk long distances and, especially, to climb stairs.
It is not that bad. The weather is comfortable and clear skies. Looking up, you can see the planes on final approach to Heathrow. The cushions are not great, but help and the view of the stage is fantastic.
This is Shakespeare as the audience in 1604 may have seen the performance. There are no stage lights, no mics, little scenery and few props.
This is Caroline's first Shakespeare play. It is my first really professional theatre performance of the Bard. Bill is enthusiastic. The cast is outstanding with Mark Rylance as Lago.
The actors interact occasionally with the standing audience on the ground floor (2 1/2 hours of standing). When the actors turn from us it is difficult to hear all the words. The jets on the way to Heathrow are noted.
What a great experience. Othello, particularly, is often interpreted in the times it is performed in. The last fifty years, the directors often stress the "racial discrimination" aspect. That does exist in the play.The actor playing Othello is black. But this director does neither stresses that nor ignores.
What the director wants you to see is that this is a Tragedy. Othello fatal flaw is pride. Lago is that evil voice (Rylance constantly moves around the stage to emphasize that Lago is that nagging voice to Othello that you are not who everyone thinks you are). Othello chooses to believe Lago because Lago is telling him what he suspects already that he is not who you thinks he is and what others perceive him to be.
It is a great experience. We leave the Theatre and try to find our way to an underground station. It is late about 11PM. We are exhausted. Finally, we turn the corner and more stairs, The ride is quick. But another 400 yards to our apartment.
Tomorrow Westminster Abbey.

"Blimey, girl, you ain't as ugly as I thought"

It is Sunday morning, We have tickets for Buckingham Palace. When I bought online I had visions of a reserved Sunday morning. The description by London Pass sounded like the visit was intimate. As with invitation to the Queen’s Garden Party, anything less than 8,000 is cozy.  I should have become curious with the constant use of the word “exclusive”.
The palace generates income for the royal family. A constant viewing of the rooms of state accomplish that when the Queen is away for the summer.
The effort is superlative. The crowds move quickly. It is not intimate but it is rewarding.
We are up at 6:30. Entrance is at 9:45 AM and demand attendance in line by 9:30.
I ordered online and only have confirm of purchase. Instructions are not clear if these are sufficient for entry or more is needed.
We take a black cab to the Palace. We want assurance that we will arrive timely and secondly, we are not certain where gate C is located. Again, London cabs are expensive. I remember 26 months ago thinking that cabs were the way to travel to London with groups of four and competitive with the Underground. I was wrong. It is partly the traffic- nothing moves. There are constant minutes wasted waiting sometimes 15 cars deep at a light while the meter clicks.
The Underground is the affordable method around London. And walking.
At Gate C, the line is not bad. Tours begin every fifteen minutes. There goes exclusivity.
Bill and Caroline go for a walk. Betty and I stay in line with a mixture of 9:30 & 9:45. Apprehension takes hold. That feeling of getting to the gate and being rejected as all around you begin to laugh at your failure. “Everyone knows you need a ticket”.
I decide to find the ticket office for my answer. I am informed to proceed to number four to obtain my tickets. I am glorious.
The line is advancing as I approach. Caroline and Bill have not returned. Betty is bravely holding the line and wonders “what fool did I marry”.
Within minutes, we are a group again and moving into the waiting area. There are benches. We sit. Others enter and strain to push forward. We now understand the system. Whether at the front or rear, you will receive your headphones and invited to meander through the public palace.
Eventually you realize the everything is temporary. When the Queen returns, all will disappear in a day or two.
It is a great tour. Prince Charles’s voice is masterful and patient. The self guided tour is logical and easy to use.
The art collection is impressive. Charles II definitely wanted to restore the glory of the monarchy.  The collection is heavy on Northern Renaissance- Dutch - art which is great and informative. Rembrandt, Rubens.
Many of the paintings in the halls are portraits. I note that for men the manly bulge below the waist is always to the left which leads me to suspect that fashion dictates and that my curiosity has no limit.
The rooms are heavy on gold. They would be Trumpian but they have class.
The tour is about 2 1/2 hours. We walk the royal gardens. The gardens run parallel to a major avenue and you are only aware of the serenity. You walking in a rich English country oasis with two swans
feeding as they move up the creek. Not a sound
The blast hits you immediately as you cross the gate.
We are exhausted. Over twenty hours traveling to London, then staying up Saturday to acclimate to the time change, we are tired.
It is London. So much to see for the first time and again. We walk through St James Park to Trafalgar  Square. It is Saturday and it is full of life. There is a new lion in the Square and he is neon red. He glows. An artist exhibit.
Security has changed the access. You now enter to the left of the great stairs and columns. This great museum is free. You are only asked for a donation.
It is crowded with individuals and tours.
Of course, Caroline and I march everyone to the cafe. It is as we left it twenty three months ago. The walls, the tables, the chairs, the barista.
Life and happiness in a shared smile and joy. The barista’s English has improved. The Americano, mocha and pastries are as we left them- exquisite.
Now we have time. Wow, we missed so much. The collection is superlative. Historically, not as broad as the Louvre or Uffici. The collection is strong on Dutch painters. They were prolific  They worked on commissions. The Italians were patronized by the church and the wealth of Florence, Milan and the Church. These painters relied on the wealth of capitalists. They are portraits.
I notice the eyes of Rembrandt’s paintings. No blue eyes. If Rembrandt was kind, the eyes are expressive.
We have separated to meet again in the cafe. Of course, I get lost trying to find a Caravaggio.
It is now a little before 5 PM and we search out Wagamana. It is a Ramen restaurant chain in England. Our last visits it, Angela and John lead us this great treat.
We leave Trafalgar Square. Caroline has downloaded this great app which allows you off line track yourself. She is our guide.
It is not the same restaurant. The crowd is less than we expected. It is busy. Staff is quick and efficient.
It is remarkable how a Chinese beer and a bowl of noodles restores you.
We leave and walk to Coventry. It is better than before. Obviously work has been done. There are still the street performers. This time we watch and listen to a baritone singing arias from operas. Very enjoyable evening.
As we walk through there is a kiosk selling men’s hats. Bill and I each buy a hat. A practical souvenir.
It is about 8:30 and a black cab is elected over the Underground. We are close to two lines - Picadilly and District. But it is quarter mile walk from the stations to the apartment that hastens our decision to spend the monies.
Tomorrow The Globe, Shakespeare, the Tower, St Paul

Supercallifraglisticeexpiaidocious is a concept - not actually a word

It has been a long time. Last year was a great year with a wedding in California.
We were confident that it would happen. Last year was spent in the USA with a family event.
We flew into Heathrow on Saturday. I had no idea of the size of Heathrow.. Our plane was an Airbus 300 and the gate was at the far end of terminal. We avoid baggage pickup by traveling with a carry-on and backpack. (Yes, 5 weeks in Europe with carry-on).
My brother, Bill, arrived at a different terminal. We had agreed to meet at a coffee shop in his arrival terminal. Easy, you say. We walked for twenty minutes before reaching terminal 2. Confusion on the elevator. More confusion at the coffee shop. And 30 minutes later, we are four.
It is early Saturday afternoon. We are going into London. Our expectation is that traffic will be light. The cab fare reasonable.
Reality is the traffic is always, always bad in London - and worse in the direction you wish to move.Secondly, that London is huge. Last visit, our apartment was in the Notting Hill area. This apartment is in the Hammersmith District. The owner's advertisement was misleading. The result is a slow twenty three mile journey. An expensive lesson is learned.
The driver points out that someone had damaged the credit card reader so half way through the journey he informs us "cash only".
Fortunately, we used the ATM at the airport and have the cash.
The apartment is on the third floor with a lift (I am proud that I wrote "lift). Third floor, of course, is really the fourth floor. The apartment is in an up and coming area of London. There is a family feel to the area.
Bill and I walk to the Super Tesco and the park is full for a Children's Carnival. There are lots of small shops and restaurants. Trees line the streets. The buildings are white windows offsetting red brick.
I wanted to show Bill the uniqueness of European grocery stores. Tesco is for the family discount shopper. It is not Mark & Spencer. Selection in Europe is always limited. Super Tesco is Winn Dixie without the volume. Great for families - bad for a tourist trying to be cool for his brother.
Bill takes it in great stride. We needed the walk. It is a sunny warm day. We are tired from little sleep on the planes. Traffic is heavy. Of course, I got us lost.
We found a bar/restaurant named Belushi's. Bill is patient and finally, ask for directions. After Bill gets us back on track - I realize my mistake - I turned left instead of right.
Being lost for a short term is not a bad thing. You learn the local streets. You find local places tat you want to visit. You look so much smarter when on the next day someone ask you for directions.
The apartment is in a building being remodeled (gentrified). The owner is a young man who is industrious. He rents out the investment apartment until someone offers him a huge sum to sell.
He is not investing anything in the apartment. The apartment is functional. Two bedrooms along a long corridor with the small kitchen with a microwave with incomprehensible verbal instructions. The small refrigerator is the size of a large cooler and as cold. The clothes washer is old and dangerous.
The faucet only bleeds hot water.
The bathroom was an European tub - high fiberglass walls with a glass barrier which only covers have the tub. The shower head is new. The operation takes practice with only water water. The towels are few and old.
There is barely room to turn around.
The rooms are reasonably clean and the Television and, importantly, the internet is functional.
Caroline takes the sofa bed in the living room.
This is an adventure and the price is reasonable. So it is a fair deal.
Caroline is a great leader and a great story teller. She plans out the stay by day. Tomorrow begins early with our visit to Buckingham Palace.