I am now back from yesterday's Mission: Faintly Ridiculous trip to Dublin, there and back in a day to deliver a document. Less said about the reasons the better, but who is more able to tolerate two stints in an airport in a day than a knitter?
I'd been slightly worried about getting the knitting through Heathrow, and very much more concerned about Dublin airport on the way back, which is notorious for not liking needles. Amazingly I had no problems with either of them. I'm working on another pair of socks and am using 6" 2.5mm bamboo DPNs so maybe not all that visible on the scanners, and I did have an umbrella in my bag which, according to Acechick's research, probably helped (I didn't pack the needles into the umbrella itself, as it was pissing it down in Dublin and the umbrella was wet). If you want proof, here's the sock airside in both airports, firstly joining me for breakfast in the Terminal 1 Wetherspoon's Express in Heathrow, and secondly accompanying me for a pint of the black stuff (my favourite alcoholic drink, as it happens) in Dublin airport:
I'd been slightly worried about getting the knitting through Heathrow, and very much more concerned about Dublin airport on the way back, which is notorious for not liking needles. Amazingly I had no problems with either of them. I'm working on another pair of socks and am using 6" 2.5mm bamboo DPNs so maybe not all that visible on the scanners, and I did have an umbrella in my bag which, according to Acechick's research, probably helped (I didn't pack the needles into the umbrella itself, as it was pissing it down in Dublin and the umbrella was wet). If you want proof, here's the sock airside in both airports, firstly joining me for breakfast in the Terminal 1 Wetherspoon's Express in Heathrow, and secondly accompanying me for a pint of the black stuff (my favourite alcoholic drink, as it happens) in Dublin airport:
The yarn is the Tofutsies that Denise sent me in my Ravelry Secret Santa package - thanks again hun!
It was a bloody good job that I had my knitting with me airside in Dublin, because I'd picked probably the worst day ever to fly back into Heathrow. As it began to dawn on me that, given the flights several hours ahead of mine hadn't even left yet, I wouldn't be getting home any time soon, at least I was able to plough on with the ribbing so there's much more of it now than in the pictures (it was a 3.5 hour delay in the end). But what a frustrating wait! I can't blame Aer Lingus of course, and the airport staff were charming in admitting they didn't know what was going on either, but something needs to be done about the systems there which carried on blithely showing normal boarding and departure of flights that were decidedly not boarding or going anywhere. Most confusing as we all trekked from gate to gate, subject to the whims of a computer that had somehow not been informed of the news situation. Sort it out! But hey, it was productive for me, less so for the drunken executives who'd clearly been on some kind of corporate jolly to Ireland and who made various sarky remarks about the knitting - yes I could hear you - but doubtless only had hangovers to show for it this morning, whereas I have half a sock.
During the very brief time I spent in Dublin outwith the confines of an airport, I was taken to lunch at L'Gueuleton, a lovely little French restaurant on Fade Street, near Dublin Castle and Temple Bar. There I had food of quite remarkable quality for its price. I had the plat du jour which was some beautifully cooked gurnard, sauteed and just salty enough to complement the fish, with sauce vierge, capers, new potatoes and a peppery watercress salad. This was just under €15, which included a glass of sauvignon blanc. For pudding I chose the jelly and ice cream for pure nostalgia value, although it was nothing like what I used to get at my grandma's on a Sunday teatime. There were three scoops of home-made ice cream in intense flavours, including a very dark chocolate with I think a hint of orange, cubic inch blocks of various wobbly jellies, fresh fruit and a divine home-baked cookie studded with whole raspberries. Lovely. Apparently they don't take bookings so we were lucky to get a table, but I shall be hoping to get in again next time I'm there.
Clearly I didn't get to see much else, other than a lot of nuns, but that's OK as I only last went for pleasure back in June/July, and I'm sure we'll be going again this year as R.E.M. have a new album due out in April, and going to see them in concert is my normal reason for going to Ireland. That and the Guinness, of course.
Tonight I have been performing the exciting task of putting away all my sock yarn, which was still on display after last weekend's photo session. I've now got it all in individual Ziploc bags (is there a generic, non-branded word for these?) as I am becoming more and more paranoid about moths, particularly with spring on the way. They'll not get my yarn, the little flappy bastards!
It was a bloody good job that I had my knitting with me airside in Dublin, because I'd picked probably the worst day ever to fly back into Heathrow. As it began to dawn on me that, given the flights several hours ahead of mine hadn't even left yet, I wouldn't be getting home any time soon, at least I was able to plough on with the ribbing so there's much more of it now than in the pictures (it was a 3.5 hour delay in the end). But what a frustrating wait! I can't blame Aer Lingus of course, and the airport staff were charming in admitting they didn't know what was going on either, but something needs to be done about the systems there which carried on blithely showing normal boarding and departure of flights that were decidedly not boarding or going anywhere. Most confusing as we all trekked from gate to gate, subject to the whims of a computer that had somehow not been informed of the news situation. Sort it out! But hey, it was productive for me, less so for the drunken executives who'd clearly been on some kind of corporate jolly to Ireland and who made various sarky remarks about the knitting - yes I could hear you - but doubtless only had hangovers to show for it this morning, whereas I have half a sock.
During the very brief time I spent in Dublin outwith the confines of an airport, I was taken to lunch at L'Gueuleton, a lovely little French restaurant on Fade Street, near Dublin Castle and Temple Bar. There I had food of quite remarkable quality for its price. I had the plat du jour which was some beautifully cooked gurnard, sauteed and just salty enough to complement the fish, with sauce vierge, capers, new potatoes and a peppery watercress salad. This was just under €15, which included a glass of sauvignon blanc. For pudding I chose the jelly and ice cream for pure nostalgia value, although it was nothing like what I used to get at my grandma's on a Sunday teatime. There were three scoops of home-made ice cream in intense flavours, including a very dark chocolate with I think a hint of orange, cubic inch blocks of various wobbly jellies, fresh fruit and a divine home-baked cookie studded with whole raspberries. Lovely. Apparently they don't take bookings so we were lucky to get a table, but I shall be hoping to get in again next time I'm there.
Clearly I didn't get to see much else, other than a lot of nuns, but that's OK as I only last went for pleasure back in June/July, and I'm sure we'll be going again this year as R.E.M. have a new album due out in April, and going to see them in concert is my normal reason for going to Ireland. That and the Guinness, of course.
Tonight I have been performing the exciting task of putting away all my sock yarn, which was still on display after last weekend's photo session. I've now got it all in individual Ziploc bags (is there a generic, non-branded word for these?) as I am becoming more and more paranoid about moths, particularly with spring on the way. They'll not get my yarn, the little flappy bastards!
Crochet tomorrow!
2 comments:
the sock yarn knits up cute -
I'm going to Ireland tomorrow too, yay!
Amazing how knitting makes those situations tolerable, isn't it? I think it's actually good for one's health - imagine what your blood pressure would have been withouth the knitting.
The pilot on that airplane had a miracle of a landing. The google image of the area was so interesting as I've been at Hatton Cross station a few times.
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