For breakfast we finished off the food from the night before and gulped some of that weird pro-biotic yoghurt-y stuff in small bottles. With the car packed, we were about to set off when Joleen decided she wanted a picture of one of the camouflaged chaps outside. She walked up and began polite conversation with one of them.
“I couldn’t take photos of Bere without the FCÃ. It’d not be right.”
“FCÃ? We’re the army!”
Whoops. He still posed, but didn’t smile.
When we arrived at the crossing point, we were just in time to have a quick look around before sorting tickets. Another of those signposts was by the crossing point, and rather bizarrely featured an arrow pointing in the direction of Moscow. Underneath it was a plaque dedicated to four Luftwaffe pilots who died when their Junkers had crashed nearby in 1942. Testament to Eire’s neutrality during WWII.
So, why the limited access time? High tides? Fuel shortage for the boat? Erm, no. The cable car only operates for a few hours a day.
Yes. Cable car.
Caitriona noticed that fortunately the car had a new floor in it since the last time she had used it. This is a good thing as you could see through it before. Not good when the only thing separating you from the straits is an inch of rotting timber. I guess this replacement was made after the “bull falling to its death” incident in April. I may have made that last sentence up, but don’t bet on it.
Then we sat down next to the road somewhere comfy and chatted and played word games.
Then we fell asleep. For two hours.
Well, it was warm and there was the sunshine and the fresh air and we’d done a lot of walking. I think we had enough excuses.
By the time the car got to us, laden with tourists, it was almost half an hour late. This was not a good thing as we’d had no lunch and Joleen had to get back to Crosshaven to work the evening shift at the pub. We dropped Caitriona off at the Pontoon to get her car and she followed us along to a nice bar where we all had fajitas. And pudding. Great stuff.
She did end up being a little late, but that’s the way things go in Ireland. I spent the night catching up on email. Sometimes it can be a lot of work being popular!