Dun Laoghaire to Hollyhead on a salad.

Dun Laoghaire - above; Hollyhead - below


Hey my novel is available in the UK from Amazon UK in paperback http://tiny.cc/lgtaf and it'll be on Kindle too as soon as they get the title right.

I had a few emails asking me what happened on the edge of the Sahara Desert well I'll leave that for now and relate another adventure.

This was on a ship from Dun Laoghaire to Hollyhead when I was a mere teenager; it was before I left school and as I left school at 15 I was really young; I know I was wearing blue jeans, not Levis, but another make of shiny blue jeans and a blue zipper jacket.

Dun Laoghaire to Hollyhead is the usual route from Dublin to anywhere in England south of Crewe; Dun Laoghaire being about 20 miles south of Dublin and Hollyhead a small island in Anglesey in Wales. When we got to Holllyhead we would get the train to Birmingham which is where we were brought up.

We knew the steamers, the ships, very well as we would go to Ireland a few times every year and would stay for the whole summer holidays – 8 weeks – in Finglas which was miles away from Dublin; maybe only 4 miles or so but still a million miles and a pain in the arse on the bus.

The journey to and from Dublin was about as long as it takes me these days to go between Los Angeles and London. We would leave the house on Moseley Road, in Birmingham, at around 6:00pm and wait for a number 50 bus across the street.

The bus would take us to New Street Station and we would get the train from there to Hollyhead arriving there at around midnight. Then we would get on the ship, wait till it set sail and arrive in Dun Laoghaire at around 6:00 or 7:00 am the following day; from there we took a train into Dublin and then a bus to Ballybough.

In earlier years my grandad would pick us up with the donkey and cart but he died when I was around 10 years of age.

So it was a long journey; most of these journeys were over night but the one I'm referring to was in the day time. Most of the time, if it wasn't raining, we would hang around on deck; a lot of people would frequent the bars and partake of the Guinness and usquebaugh; but I was too young as the age for drinking was 18.

There were restaurants on board and places where you could get a cup of tea but I only had one shilling to my name; a shilling these days would be one twentieth of a pound – five pence!

When I got to the restaurant I looked at the menu and the only thing they had for a shilling was salad; mmmm salad. There was no choice so that's what I decided to order.

It was a cafeteria style service where you grabbed a tray and put food on it when you got to it as you entered the queue; I looked for the salad but couldn't see it so I asked one of the women behind the counter where the salad was and she pointed to a plate with ham, cucumber and scallions on “That's the salad” she said so I put it onto my tray.

When I got to the till the cashier said “That'll be three and six!” Three and six!! That was three shillings and sixpence – three and a half times what I had in my pocket.

“I thought it was a shilling?” I said.

“Where?” she said.

“Look there” I said, pointing at the menu.

“Oh that's just the lettuce” she said.

I was embarrassed; I didn't want to let on that that was all I had in my pocket; all I had in the world to be honest. I looked at the full salad on the plate; not my favourite meal but it looked nice, it would fill me and keep me from being hungry and would save me having the sandwiches my aunt had made for us.

“It's only the lettuce I want” I lied.

So the woman put a load of lettuce onto a plate, which I put on to my tray and went to the till again and paid for. I took a knife and fork from the cutlery tray and found myself a seat.

As I sat down I looked at my meal; I almost think it looked at me; all green a crisp and waiting for me to eat it. On the table was the cruet and I used some salt. Then I looked around for some salad cream – yes that was the kind of kid I was in those days I had never heard of mayonnaise but I would really love to taste that salad cream now and maybe even sandwich spread; oooo yummie!!

But back to those salad cream days – I couldn't see any; I looked at other tables, I looked over to where I had found the the cutlery but nothing. So I decided to get stuck in and eat it.

Wow – did I really need a knife?

A big waiter came through the door from the kitchen and I stopped him “Do you have any salad cream?”

“What?”

“Some salad cream for my salad.”

He looked at my plate; then looked at me. Not an expression on his face.

“Salad cream?”

“Yes please!”

He looked at me again and then at the lettuce.

“Are you broke?”

“Broke? No; I just want some salad cream.”

He picked up my plate and walked off with it.

I sat there; I put my knife and fork back onto the table. I hadn't used them so they were clean; should I put them in place? Why not?

Was the blade side of the knife supposed to face in or out; I tried it both ways and it looked better facing outwards. I looked around and people were getting their meals, sitting down and eating, chatting to each other and some of the food looked really good.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do; I was only a slip of a kid but if they didn't give me my lettuce back I would have wasted a shilling.

Then the waiter came back, plonked a plate between my knife and fork, and walked away after saying “there you are.”

On the plate there was boiled ham, lettuce, cucumber, cold boiled potatoes, scallions and the whole works which I heartily ate.

After I finished I put my utensils at twelve-0-clock, to show that I knew my manners got up from the table and went back onto the deck.

“What did you get for your shilling” said my aunt.

“Salad” I said.