Dublin 2001
Without Prejudice
Brendan Behan once said, that he saw a sign at a bar, that said, "Drink Canada Dry", So He Did ! lol
I flew to Ireland in 2001 long before Sept 11 happened or I might not have gone. Nifty Nev, my irish fiance was already there staying at his Ma's in Palmerstown, about 20 minutes out of Dublin proper by bus. Firsly I had gone to Yorkshire to see my two aunts who lived in Wakefield. I stayed with my Aunt Pat and by then her invalid husband, Joe had died and she was a widow as was my Aunty Betty.
Auntie Pat was the same as ever and we went to markets and pubs and op shops together, creating fun where ever we went. Auntie Pat was my Auntie Mame of England. She was a big lady and loved a drink sometimes and food a lot. She taught me how to make onion gravy with white sauce and freshened up my ideas of Yorkshire Puds, just as my Grandma Lucy Wilsher had all those years ago. Taking making Yorkshires to a whole new level.
She missed my Uncle Joe and kept a neat ground floor flat in Kirgate. My Auntie Betty was a lot more austere then and didn't laugh when Pat, her younger Sister planted plastic flowers in the window boxes outside her flat. We waited for AB to come around the corner from the bus and see what she would do. Without a moments hesitation she removed the offending flowers and brought them into us as we laughed with glee. She wasn't happy thinking that Pat had gone "potty", which of course she hadn't.
Auntie Pat was irreverent and funny and so very kind and sweet. I loved staying with her and the night before I flew to Dublin we went out for a curry of mammoth proportions. We staggered out of the Indian Restaurant, laughing and she laughed so hard she literally wet her pants and we had to flee back to her flat and she changed and then we we went on a Pub Crawl. First The Grey Horse that Auntie Pat had run at one time for a trivia night. My cousin Raymond was there.
He asked me to dance and said I was a great looking lass except I had a huge arse and his girlfriend didn't. I was a bit unsure of him as I hadn't seen him since he was married and divorced, but he was good to me and patted me on my huge arse and kissed me sloppily drunk as he left. Beside him was a youth who kept staring at me and was fascinated with my accent and hair. I had it cut in a blonde page boy and he thought I looked "Cleopatra", obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed as she was raven haired and I wasn't.
To my shock he asked me out and I demurred but Auntie Pat knew him as a friend of her younger son. She had met Nifty Nev and thought he was a legless drunk and wastrel so she encouraged me to go out with this "boy". He was 28 and I was 42. His name was Marty. He called me at my Aunt's the next day and took me out for a meal and a chat at one of the more posh pubs in town. He ordered Yorkshires that filled your entire plate and were filled with meat, gravy and vegetables. The meal vast and washed down with lots of lagers and limes, pints of them.
We then staggered out of the pub and walked to a club that was open until 3am and danced like fools and rid ourselves of hundreds of calories in the hot humid atmosphere. Then we tripped the light fantastic as we walked down Kirgate to my Aunt's flat.
We parted then and I told him I was leaving for Dublin the next day to meet up with my fiance and he was unperturbed. he asked if he could call me once I was back in Wakefield before flying home to Oz and I said yes. He was sweet and undemanding and I left him there on the steps of the flat and crept inside.
My Aunt was still up and wanted to know how it had all gone on. We relaxed with a cup of tea and we chatted till the sun came up. She had so much to tell me since her visit to Australia the previous year with Betty.
To be continued.......
Brendan Behan once said, that he saw a sign at a bar, that said, "Drink Canada Dry", So He Did ! lol
I flew to Ireland in 2001 long before Sept 11 happened or I might not have gone. Nifty Nev, my irish fiance was already there staying at his Ma's in Palmerstown, about 20 minutes out of Dublin proper by bus. Firsly I had gone to Yorkshire to see my two aunts who lived in Wakefield. I stayed with my Aunt Pat and by then her invalid husband, Joe had died and she was a widow as was my Aunty Betty.
Auntie Pat was the same as ever and we went to markets and pubs and op shops together, creating fun where ever we went. Auntie Pat was my Auntie Mame of England. She was a big lady and loved a drink sometimes and food a lot. She taught me how to make onion gravy with white sauce and freshened up my ideas of Yorkshire Puds, just as my Grandma Lucy Wilsher had all those years ago. Taking making Yorkshires to a whole new level.
She missed my Uncle Joe and kept a neat ground floor flat in Kirgate. My Auntie Betty was a lot more austere then and didn't laugh when Pat, her younger Sister planted plastic flowers in the window boxes outside her flat. We waited for AB to come around the corner from the bus and see what she would do. Without a moments hesitation she removed the offending flowers and brought them into us as we laughed with glee. She wasn't happy thinking that Pat had gone "potty", which of course she hadn't.
Auntie Pat was irreverent and funny and so very kind and sweet. I loved staying with her and the night before I flew to Dublin we went out for a curry of mammoth proportions. We staggered out of the Indian Restaurant, laughing and she laughed so hard she literally wet her pants and we had to flee back to her flat and she changed and then we we went on a Pub Crawl. First The Grey Horse that Auntie Pat had run at one time for a trivia night. My cousin Raymond was there.
He asked me to dance and said I was a great looking lass except I had a huge arse and his girlfriend didn't. I was a bit unsure of him as I hadn't seen him since he was married and divorced, but he was good to me and patted me on my huge arse and kissed me sloppily drunk as he left. Beside him was a youth who kept staring at me and was fascinated with my accent and hair. I had it cut in a blonde page boy and he thought I looked "Cleopatra", obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed as she was raven haired and I wasn't.
To my shock he asked me out and I demurred but Auntie Pat knew him as a friend of her younger son. She had met Nifty Nev and thought he was a legless drunk and wastrel so she encouraged me to go out with this "boy". He was 28 and I was 42. His name was Marty. He called me at my Aunt's the next day and took me out for a meal and a chat at one of the more posh pubs in town. He ordered Yorkshires that filled your entire plate and were filled with meat, gravy and vegetables. The meal vast and washed down with lots of lagers and limes, pints of them.
We then staggered out of the pub and walked to a club that was open until 3am and danced like fools and rid ourselves of hundreds of calories in the hot humid atmosphere. Then we tripped the light fantastic as we walked down Kirgate to my Aunt's flat.
We parted then and I told him I was leaving for Dublin the next day to meet up with my fiance and he was unperturbed. he asked if he could call me once I was back in Wakefield before flying home to Oz and I said yes. He was sweet and undemanding and I left him there on the steps of the flat and crept inside.
My Aunt was still up and wanted to know how it had all gone on. We relaxed with a cup of tea and we chatted till the sun came up. She had so much to tell me since her visit to Australia the previous year with Betty.
To be continued.......
