Text 3293, 86 rader
Skriven 2010-10-30 17:32:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: trip 687
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That night we tried to get in touch with a tour company that
Lilli had used years ago and whose name shall remain shrouded
in mystery - we were looking at an overnighter to Derry and
the Giant's Causeway and the Carrickafergus rope bridge and
stuff like that: let it suffice to say that we didn't end up
getting to any of these places.

Next day we took the DART train downtown. I was looking for
the advertised E20 three-day bus and train pass, but the
machines offered the E17 rail-only version. Apparently there
are three public transit authorities all theoretically under
one umbrella but practically separate and noncommunicative:
the tram, the bus, and the train. Oh, there's also the fast
train, which I think is more or less aligned with the
commuter train, but I'm not sure. Anyhow, Lilli wanted the
option of hopping a bus, so we bought a couple one-ways to
Pearse, which had a full-serve ticket window that was
supposed to be open. Only it wasn't. The guy at the dry
cleaner's opposite volunteered the unwelcome information
that the ticket guy had called in sick, and we had best go
find a gate guard, who might know something. So up the
stairs to the platform, where we caused a gate guard
convention to happen, and after consultation it was decided
that we could either go to Tara, the next station, where
the ticket guy had not called in sick, or to a tobacconist's
- all the tobacconists apparently sold them, and there was
one just a block away, so there we went. And they had them
in two flavors - bus-tram and bus-train. No dice for a
triple play. When we returned triumphant, the dry cleaner
called us over for a chat - his associate had lived in
Chicago and wanted to dilate on how much better US public
transportation is than Irish, and what a load of idiots the
public servants are in Ireland. We listened and refrained
from bursting his bubble regarding our governments and their
functionaries. A hard time extricating ourselves to start
our day.

Which we did by going to Howth, the northern terminus of the
DART, which had sounded kind of interesting; apparently it's
a well-known destination for daytrippers. It's quite a long
ride through some pretty boring territory, but things began
to look up when we got onto the peninsula and saw the craggy
eccentricity of Ireland's Eye to the north: the rock
formations looked interesting enough to warrant a visit
(a ferry is available from town), but when we saw how choppy
the water was, we rethought the idea.

The train station is just a block or two from the harbor,
which is in that uncomfortable no man's land between gritty
working fishing village and yuppie heaven. We walked past
about a dozen restaurants of varying degrees of fancy and
a couple fishmongers; poked our noses up over the seawall;
looked at gulls, fishing boats, and the odd seal or two,
and then it was time for lunch, as we were getting cold
and windswept.

We chose The Deep, a fairly trendy-looking spot with lots
of fish on the menu: this was my suggestion, and as there
was a burger listed, Lilli went along.

I started with mussels in white wine, which were abundant
and excellent, but the sauce had been finished with cream
not in the description, necessitating a dip into my lactase
pill supply; then the fish and chips, described as cod but
my guess is plaice - very nicely done, though the batter
might have been a bit abundant.

Chicken tarragon soup was the soup of the day, only it
wasn't. What came: butternut ginger, completely different
in aroma and appearance, and the waitperson should have
caught that. Anyhow, it was warming and tasty. Lilli's
burger tasted like meatloaf, which she was a good sport
about. Later, when recapping the meal, she noted that she
had not been asked how she wanted it done, so that was a
tipoff that it couldn't be prepared rare and thus wasn't a
proper burger. We had the Arrogant Frog 07 Syrah, a Pays
d'Oc wine of no great distinction but rather pleasant.
My meal was more in the wheelhouse of the kitchen, and it
was quite good. Lilli's was not and was kind of spotty. Turns
out that The Deep is listed in Michelin - and my experience
is that one generally doesn't order burgers in places listed
in Michelin.

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