Post a Comment On: Wicklow

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After a delicious farewell breakfast of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon, John drove us to Dublin port through mists and past lakes, and in an hour we descended down to sea level and the fast ferry back.

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It was bright and sunny on deck. We fortified ourselves with a nip of Jameson's.

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We disembarked and caught the bus to Bangor, then the train to Euston. It was a long journey back, 12 hours more or less. I felt tired but as we came into London, my mind's eye was still full of the colours of Wicklow.

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