Our second time around in Paris was terrific. We took some gorgeous walks along the river, enjoyed the views and visited some very impressive churches. (They really do them nicely.) I became quite comfortable dining out and wish NYC would be more hospitable that way. B and G raving about several restaurants but my favorite was the brasserie down the road. Here I am this afternoon when we went for a bite and I said good-bye to my friends there.
But it is time to go and here we are at the airport now. But not to worry – I am definitely coming back.

We spent a relaxing time in Chipping Camden on our way back down to the coast. We took gorgeous walks in the country, chatted with the locals in the pub and shopped which I liked quite a bit. (Strangest thing, the place is awash with sheep and not much yarn to be had. Believe me, B looked.)Then it was off again to Dover to go to France in the tunnel. They have a very nice playground for us at the departure point (see the photo below) and a good thing because a pallet fell off a lorry in the morning, the next train hit it, the next had to stop and clean it up and all subsequent trains – our included- were very much delayed. But we arrived in Paris in time for a lovely evening at the local brasserie where I have become a regular.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we did the roots thing for B in Ireland and visited Ballycastle.She has been there several times before and wanted to see if anything had changed.The town is in north County Mayo right on the coast. (There is another Ballycastle on the other side of Ireland.) It is close by the archeological sight called the Ceide Fields, which is the most extensive of Stone Age remains in the world and phenomenal to see. In the past few years there has been an effort to make Ballycastle a town for artists to work and there was an exhibit when we visited by an artist named Nuala! Incidentally, my name is not uncommon in Ireland.
Here’s a photo of Ballycastle from the ride into it from the coast, and here I am by the sea stretching my legs after the longish car ride from Westport.

Dill from Connecticut writes asking about snacks and such abroad.
B and G brought food from home for me but several of the hotels where we have stayed offered up some nice treats. Unfortunately, I lost my appetite what with the jet lag, and B and G were anxious about that for a few days – so much so that they allowed me breakfast in bed once which is something I have never enjoyed before and would like to make a habit of. All the hotels have been comfortable but so far my favorite has been the posh Four Seasons in Dublin. Here are some photos of the amenities including the very large bed that swallowed me up and was quite cozy.
Restaurants in England and Ireland are not as pet friendly as in France so we have been fortunate to have been with friends where I could stay if B and G went out with them; we also all ate in at their homes which I liked best. (According to B and G, all our hosts were extraordinary cooks.) We found pubs to be the most amenable place to stop for lunch on the road but I had to be taken in clandestinely in one in Ireland, and that turned out to be great fun. B didn’t realize she left one side of my box open and I was able to sneak out and make my way across the room to chat with a charming little girl. In other pubs I was allowed to roam if I wanted to. (Here’s a photo of me in a delightful spot in Chipping Camden last night with a girl I met called Lily.) The only place I was absolutely forbidden to enter was a small coffee shop in the town in Ireland that B’s great grandmother came from. B said that was apropos because her Granny didn’t like dogs. She also told me not to take it personally because Granny didn’t like many people either.) More on our visit to that town later.
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In Dublin today I finally learned why B was so anxious to have me visit Ireland with her: today we visited the grave of her friend Nuala O’Faolain for whom I am named. I never knew Nuala, but from all accounts, she really was somebody. We had a very special Sunday afternoon visiting with Nuala’s family who were were extraordinarily warm and welcoming. It was a beautiful, bittersweet day.
Dublin is getting ready for Christmas…

We enjoyed a lovely visit with our friends in Cork where I had the run of the house and their pretty garden. (They still have parsley growing.) B had some visiting to do so our sightseeing was brief but a highlight was our visit to the stunning Glucksman Gallery at University College Cork where we saw an exhibit on architecture called “Folly,” which, unbeknownst to us, featured three works by a friend.(I had just met him last month when he was in NYC for an installation of his new work. He knew Fiona quite well.)
En route to the west coast we stopped at Cong Abbey and I had a little run in the cloister. The town is sweetly maintained as the quaint Irish village depicted in the movie the Quiet Man that was filmed there. It was somewhat jarring to see the majestic ruins alongside this replica of John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara frolicking but I am not a snob about popular culture and especially admire Ms. O’Hara – a redhead like myself.

Here we are leaving Holyhead, Wales on the ferry called the Jonathan Swift. If I look pitiful it is because I was very nervous. B was told I could not be on the passenger deck and would have to go in a kennel on the car level, locked away for an hour and a half. I am sorry to report she appeared to be resigned to allow that and we walked on the boat with the other 10 or 12 foot passengers. But she didn’t disappoint me: she walked right up the stairs past the cars and where there were supposedly kennels, said hello to the man at the door and he motioned us into the passenger lounge. I sat quietly in my bag for the trip and no one blew our cover.
And now we are finally in Ireland-just where we wanted to be in the first place!

Did I mention that there were blue skies over the White Cliffs of Dover when we arrived? Not as good as blue birds but I thought that was a good omen. Although the castle is impressive, we didn’t linger long there. (It dates back to the 12th century but the site was a fort literally ages before.) We stopped for a pub lunch in Canterbury but, unfortunately, the Archbishop was not able to join us. On the other hand, it was fortunate that the pub owner’s dog, a shar pei who is the size of a rottweiler (the owner’s description not mine), decided to work from home for the day.
Fun night in London and I finally got some playtime on this trip. (Here’s my friend. Isn’t she lovely? Really sweet too. Her little brother is also a cutey. He is two and does an impressive rabbit imitation.) From there, another car ride to Wales. Pub lunch on that leg of the journey too. The resident dog there, a spaniel, travels frequently to his grandparent’s home in Toulouse. (I learned that the word spaniel has French origins; the French called them dogs from Spain.) Lovely night in Wales at an inn B and G stayed in twenty years ago. I slept very well and was ready for the road again.

Oh yes, I am. We took the train from Gare du Nord to Calais. (I had my own ticket: 6 Euros.) From there we went in a taxi under the tunnel. My papers were checked at a very busy place where they gave out free magazines about pets. We would have taken photos but there was a chance we could get an earlier spot (which we did) so we didn’t waste time. Our driver had great treats. He raises golden retrievers!

I am exhausted. B and G, with all their planning, never considered my clock. I just want to sleep and we go, go and go. This morning we leave for England. Once again I will have all my papers ready but no one asked for them when we arrived in Paris!
Yesterday we went to Mass at St. Eustache which was terrific: organ, choir and brass, but a very long day. Food is very high on B and G’s agenda. We have been to four restaurants since we arrived.
For dinner we went to a place that a friend from New York recommended. (I’ll list all our Paris restaurants in a separate post.) Everyone was really nice to me and none of us noticed another dog come in. In a quiet moment he noticed me and went absolutely nuts. I was frightened and responded but was reassured by the all people on our side of the room who took my side in the brief altercation. There was a family from Italy sitting next to us that B had been speaking to and when this happened, the grandmother told B to put me next to her which was a good thing. When the dog at the other table started up again I didn’t have to answer back because I had a nonna watching over me.
I have to go now to catch a train for Calais at the Gare du Nord.