We approached our target by boat. A little known fact: turtles may be good swimmers, but ferries are faster. Ferries also make us want to throw up (not to worry, his Royal Turtleness did stoop quite that low).
When we landed, it was a brief jaunt to our flat, which (upon entering) I deemed “Swede-land”, in consequent of it’s Ikea décor. But, it had a sweet view of the Ha’penny Bridge.
Did you know, Dubliners party til 4 am EVERY NIGHT OF THE WEEK? Shiver.
Waking, we decided to scout the landscape from the top of a double decker tour bus.
The cruel mumster fell prey to obstacles Dubliners put in to dissuade would-be conquerors: curbs.
Sadly, I can’t give you the full photo work-up of it, but I can give you the verbal slow-mo version. Picture it: Mumster was talking to a random tourist while walking alongside us. Suddenly, she starts to fall. She grabs at a stubby concrete pole, but misses! Next, she curls up and rolls over and over again, sliding to a stop in front of one of those concrete poles. Back to normal speed now. A circle of surprised Dubliners saying: Are you okay??? I was silently thinking: Who is that lady? I’m sure I don’t know her.
Back on the bus, the cruel mumster took hoardes of recon photos, despite her now horrifically-swelling ankles. I will not show them all (or the ankles). You’re welcome.