Day 12 – Dublin

I don’t like Dublin. When we arrived, it was raining. This on its own would not bother me. When we went ashore, the first thing that happened was that the shuttle bus drove past us and refused to pick us up.  The excuse we were given was that the driver was on his lunch break. I remain unconvinced. Once in town, we were assailed by beggars, shop staff who don’t listen to a word you say, or care much that you were there at all, and cafes that offer gluten free or decaff but just happen to have sold out right now. Finally found a decent cafe with lovely food, that DID have gluten free AND decaff, at which point the sun duly came out and shone on us for a short while. I was grumpy all day with a bad mood I couldn’t shake. I don’t like big cities at the best of times, they are noisy and smelly and horrid, but I felt we weren’t particularly welcome in Dublin, which did not help one jot.

I don’t recall if I mentioned, but P&O busted the foot off my suitcase and glued/bolted it back on when we boarded. When packing yesterday, I realised they have also smashed the ring on the zip that you pass the padlock through. Getting them to give a tinker’s cuss has taken all my energy today and I imagine the saga will continue tomorrow. They think I should have to unpack the whole thing and re-pack it when they’ve got round to doing another ugly bodge job. Yeah, like I’ve got nothing else to do with my holiday time except unpack and repack whenever you feel like I should. Thanks a bunch. Needless to say, the grumpy mood persists.

After dinner, I went back to reception and kicked up a bit of a stink. I got back the top that had been damaged by the door. The seamstress has done her best, but the material is now puckered where she has simply drawn the sides of the hole together and, as it is cotton jersey, it looks pretty ugly. They said they will ask their manager tomorrow about compensation. It’s not particularly valuable. It’s F&F at Tesco. But I should be able to come on a cruise without having holes punched in my clothes and, potentially, in me as well.

The suitcase issue rumbles on. The man at the counter said he had a message saying the case was irreparable. Then his manager, Jennie, came out and said she had been told it WAS fixable. I laughed in her face. That’s two answers to the same question in under ten minutes. Nothing farcical about that whatsoever.  We agreed to talk tomorrow, which will give her time to speak to her manager and the repair man herself and clarify the situation.

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