Tuesday, 10 May 1955
Well, we finally made it to breakfast. Tipped our dining room steward who pointed out to us that N.A.S.M. (the Holland-America Line in Dutch) means “Nice Americans Spend Money.” The cabin steward was much more gracious. He even smiled. Lots of farewells from all. We could see the Irish coast, everyone on deck. Ireland looks so incredibly green, with accents of orange heather.
Entering the harbor, Cobh
We see a white and black lighthouse and old British fort as we enter the mouth of Cobh Harbor. A harbor pilot comes out on a tug, about an hour later a tender shows up with large American Express official aboard. We finally walk a gangplank to the deck of the tender where lots of guys in cruddy clothes are piling up luggage.
From the deck of the lighter taking us ashore
There’s much waving from the Ryndam. Can’t recognize anyone. Legendary Irish wit is displayed by the American Express official who tells two helpless American ladies awaiting their turn at customs that he is “next to the bishop” in importance. We await our turn at the customs shed at the dock. One tourist complains that he was first in line, and is then sent to the end of the line. Everyone is otherwise very helpful. We buy train tickets to Dublin. Took a Toonerville Trolley after a walk through Cobh. The first impression was that it was so quiet, life goes easy, clean babies, dirty little kids. We have tea at a smelly old pastry shop. Behind it is a flourishing flower garden. Houses along the waterfront in Cobh are all different colors: pink, yellow, orange, gray, white. It’s a beautiful sunny day and Ruth remarks how exciting it is to be in Ireland: tiny British cars driving down lanes of hedgerows is like all the English movies we’ve seen rolled into one. Primroses in bloom among the flowers everywhere. Along the railroad to Cork we see apple blossoms beginning to fade, lovingly cared for grounds and small greenhouses. Horses and cows everywhere. We pass marshes and then inlets which lead to the sea, cottages with white stucco walls. At five we arrive in Cork, wait an hour for our train to Dublin. The first class compartment has high cushioned seats with trays attached to the backs. There are Americans on board, so noisy compared to the the Irish who speak quietly and mind their own business. This is our first taste of loud Americans abroad. The train lurches along. Through the large windows we see thatched roof cottages and kids milking cows. We have a good mixed grille dinner for 5 shillings and thruppence, as they say. That's US$ 1.68 for both of us. We arrive Dublin at 9 PM. A large, heavy lady with a cane tells us to go to Wynne’s Hotel. We’re herded with a lady visitor into a 1946 Mercury jam-packed with luggage. Wynne’s is an old-fashioned hotel with dark cavernous rooms. Little boys and little girls in uniforms scurry about. A chambermaid dressed like a nurse greets us with a hot-water bottle. It proves necessary in a cold bed. Click on photos to enlarge.
First impressions