travelntrouble

Older hotel, pretty nice.  Restaurant is in the basement and the elevator doesn’t work the first evening.  Food is good for some, not so good for the roast beef selection.  The beef entree is referred to as shoe leather and is studiously avoided by all for the balance of the stay.  The vegetable offerings all three nights are not only the same boiled carrots and parsnips, but appear to be re-heated night after night.  The hotel is a first-time for the tour.  Our leaders are generally dissatisfied with several apects of our stay, and will be giving the hotel management a spirited negative discussion and opening a can of Celtic whup-ass after the tour is over.  The pub upstairs, however, has some really good Madras chicken curry with rice, and at least one lunch for Paula and me is yummy.  

Our Dublin taxi driver didn’t have much to say or like about Sligo, but a longish bus ride takes us to Sligo with a stop in Galway for lunch and a look-around.  Galway is a city of narrow twistindg streets, and its pedestrian shopping street seems to go on for ever with all sorts of little shops, very little in the way of department stores. Lunch is on our own.  Pick a pub, any pub, because there is a plethora, and pretty much any pub has its own little food-served-all-day sign and menu.

John and Lynn wander off, joining another couple at one pub as we walk by, and we discover a newly renovated one, down close to the waterfront, where the workmen are still finishing the exterior.  Lunch there is excellent, as are the beverages.  The place was formerly known as Kelly’s, changed hands in October 2014, and has been under renovation and modernization for the last 6 weeks. As we are eating, the bar staff is still stocking the overhead with bottles of Jameson and Bushmills. 

Along the pedestrian mall are any number of buskers doing varieties of music.  One such act is accompanying a puppet modeled on herself in sort of a ventriloquist singing act.

Onward to Sligo and the Best Western Sligo Southern Hotel.  

Our tour bus … excuse me, it’s a “coach”

We’ll be staying in Sligo for three nights, but touring our to environing sites, sights, attractions, and distractions on our bus.  Paarticipants are advised to rotate occupying the front “prime real estate” seats, but we are mostly attracted to the back of the bus with better landscape views.

The tour starts with a communal cocktail in the bar, and the hotel staff is busy, busy, fetching and pouring for the group.  A couple of late stragglers arrive, and one couple has been delayed getting out of France, but we are greeted by Donnie and James, recognize some familiar faces and set about introducing ourselves to many new faces.  Paula is determined to learn names and faces as quicly as possible, so she and Lynn are checking off names from the pre-tour bios, and confirming who goes with whom as the evening and dinner progress.  

Dinner is excellent, of course, and while the group doesn’t stand up and introduce themselves individually, by the time dinner is over, with consultation and mutual confirmation, we’re pretty sure about 36 of the 42 names and faces.  And inevitably, there is talk among the  veterans remembering “that tour with the Boys to….”  One participant has been on 20 tours with the Boys, and one couple on 19.   They’re at the high end, while  we’re only on our fourth, and Lynn and John have plenty of company among the first-timers.  

After dinner, James goes through some housekeeping details, luggage tags are handed out, and he and Donnie do a short concert.  In the morning, bags in the hall by 8, breakfast will be available from 6 until 10, and bus leaves at 10 for Sligo. But the group conatins several musicians who have brought along their own instruments – guitars, fiddles, pennywhistles, recorders – and the diehards repair to one of the lobby rooms for a couple of hours of round-robin music.  There will be time for sleep on the bus.  Donnie, James, and Bronagh, however, will be administering departure in the morning, including checkout, settling up, toting everyone’s luggage, and loading the bus, so they all disappear. 

Paula and I have done this before, traveling from Dublin to Shannon Airport by train and bus.  Trains for Limerick or Cork leave Dublin every hour on the hour, but do not run to Shannon or the airport.  To get between Shannon and any other city therefore requires some combination. Years ago, Shannon was the official and only entry point for any transatlantic flight to Ireland, but since Dublin is now a destination, perhaps due to facilities or competition, traffic to and from Shannon has fallen off, although it still serves the Continent and some transatlantic traffic.  In all those years, though, no rail connection from Shannon city or airport developed, so the best you can do is either bus to Shannon and to the airport from Dublin, or as we have done, train to Limerick, and change to bus to Shannon airport.  

Even this is complicated, in that the regular trains from Dublin with the exception of only a few, don’t stop at Limerick, but go on to Cork, so you have to change at Limerick Junction, a matter of crossing the platform with your luggage, from the inter-city train to a more local and older version to get into Limerick.  But then the bus ticket office is right inside the station, and the side parking area features several bus docks for buses to various places.  It’s a pleasant trip, and the bus drops us aat the airport, just a short walk across the parking lot to the Park Inn where our tour companions are gathering.

Shannon is mostly a commercial and industrial city, with minimal historical or touristy attractions other than Bunratty Castle nearby, so killing time in Shannon is not nearly as rewarding as in other cities, which is why we prefer flying into Dublin.  The Park Inn at the airport is a cut or two below other airport hotels, with unpredictable hot water, small rooms, badly regulated room heat, minimal electrification, peeling paint, ceiling mold in places, and a general air of tiredness as far as physical facilities go.  Signs claim affiliation with the Radisson chain, but the general aspect would suggest that the Radisson standards and maintenance division prefers flying in and out of Dublin as well. 

On the other hand, immediately next door is a school of hotel management, so the service staff tend to be excellent, as does the food, and The Boys have developed an excellent rapport with the managers, so it’s a little like Radisson service in a facility approaching Fawlty Towers.

In Dublin’s fair city, where girls are so pretty… One of the most popular statues in Dublin has been Molly Malone’s likeness, which used to stand at the bottom of Grafton Street, the major shopping street in Dublin.  Dubliners variously refer to her at the Tart wi’ the Cart, the Trollop wi’ the Scallop, or the Dish wi’ the Fish, as selling cockles and mussels in the daytime had no bearing on her evening profession.  

In years past, it was almost impossible to get a daytime picture of the statue, as it was forever blocked by two large (better than 6 feet tall) costumed happy leprechauns, sized for entertaining a stadium rather than close-up encounters, who expected money for pictures or for posing with tourists. It’s a living, I suppose, not unlike the superheroes on Hollywood Boulevard that are featured on Jimmy kimmel from time to time.  

Dublin is in the process of expanding it’s light rail in the city, however, and the new line will run past Grafton Street, so Molly has been moved down the block, at least for a couple of years, and doesn’t get the tourist traffic so much any more.  So now it’s easy to see and photograh her if you’re willing to walk a block or so, but she is no longer visible from the hop-on, hop-off bus

   Molly isn’t the only such statue in Dublin, and others include James Joyce up on O’Connell Street and Oscar Wilde, and numerous figures from Ireland’s History, but Molly has a certain mammalian appeal.

While Paula was resting her feet on Tuesday, I went off iin search of Oscar Wilde.  Born Dublin kittycorner from Merrion Square, he eluded us on our last trip, because we went to the wrong park.  But his statue is only a few block form the Busswell Hotel, and I am determined to see him up cclose this time.  He reclines on a rock, a statue carved of three or four different kinds of stone, a sardonic smile on his face and flanked by two pillars inscribed with some of his epigrams.  The university in Wausau will be presenting his play, The Importance of Being Earnest, when we return, and a picture of the statue might interest the director professor.  

We communicated via email with another couple that was spending a few days in Dublin prior to joining the tour to ask if they would like to party on to Shannon.  They were at a Jury’s Inn, close to Dublin Castle, and they respond that they will be traveling on the same 11 AM train that we are planning, so look out for two orange backpacks.  

We taxi to the station, which mkes sense again for four people with luggage.  WE get to the station, find the ticket office, and are surprised to find that the fare to Limerick is in excess of 60 Euros.  Well that’s the immediate fare, and the ticket agent says if we call in for a reservation on the 2 PM train, pay by credit card over the phone, and pick up the ticket at the kiosk, it will only cost 37 Euros.  And if we had booked two days in advance, it would have been 27 Euros. But if we make a reservation for the 2 PM train, we can still get on the 11 AM train, and just find unreserved seats.  So that’s what we do.  

And there, two rows ahead of us, are the couple who are also headed for Shannon and the MoW tour. (Jack, in the green shirt and mustache in the foreground.)

The train is an hour and 35 minutes to Limerick Junction, change trains across the platform and another 20 minutes into Limerick.

Bus will take us from Limerick Colbert station to Shannon AIrport (we’ve done this before) and we’re at the airport hotel by 2:45.  Time for a nap before meeting the tour group at six in the bar, and Donnie is waiting for us in the lobby, ascertaining the last travelers to arrive and check in with him and the hotel. 

On Tuesday evening we hike out in search of a restaurant the Lynn has read about, next door to Mulligans pub.  Mulligans is a recommendation from one of the members of the band Danu that has come through Wausau as being a home for trad music, and the restaurant next door is very well reviewed.  Unfortunately, this place only takes reservations. It is small and fully booked for the evening.  So Paula and I toss out the Bank as a place that Lynn and John have not tried.  Off we go, and everyone is pleased with the result.  Early back to the hotel, however, as there is packing to do, and a train to catch in the morning to travel toward Shannon.

This, by the way, is a picture of the lobby of our hotel, Buswell’s Hotel on Molesworth (ronounced Mullswirt) Street in Dublin. Took the picture whil loaded with travel paraphernalia, which explains the tilt.

We found this pub close to Trinity College on our last trip.  It’s a former bank, deceptively named The Bank on Trinity Green, mostly intact, but turned into an active and popular pub.  And after a thirsty day of touristly tramping, it’s a pleasant stop.

Bangers (sausages) and Mash(ed potatoes)

Shepherds Pie (lamb and vegetable stew, covered with mashed potatoes and baked)

And what visit to a pub is complete unless you make a trip to the loo?

Photo of Michael Collins between the vault doors.

Paula and I sleep in and promise ourselves a late morning visit to Dublin Castle.  This is the residence and offices of the former British viceroy, pre-independence, and was also the holding and trial facility for the rebel leaders prior to their brief sojourn at Kilmainham prison. Its history goes back to medieval times, and still has remnants of the walls and water moat fed by the Liffey.  Othewise it is quite opulent.  Bram Stoker had a job in the castle during the time that he was hanging out with Oscar Wilde and  was a frequent guest at the Wilde home, where Mother Wilde preferred the dark rooms untouched by sunshine.  The castle is till used for events, including inauguration of the Irish government officials, so it is kept up for both offficial use and the tourist trade. 

The Dublin Castle Chapel

Chapel Organ loft

The room where the wounded James Connolly lay while the doctors tried to fix his wounded leg prior to his execution..

  The throne room used by George IV on his visit to Dublin.  He was a large man and the throne is also very large.

The ceremonial room where the inaugurations take place.  The British government created the Order of St. Patrick, similar to the Scottish Order of the Thistle, to invest high-rank Irish in an attempt to co-opt and secure loyalty to the Crown.  This room is their meeting place and is descorated along the sides with heraldic designations of the members.

One of the recommendations from our first day cab driver.  A place a bloock off Grafton Street on Suffolk Street with a massive menu offering.  Beef, pork, lamb, chicken, turkey, and more vegetables than you can shake a fork at.  It’s another deceptively small entrance into a warren of dining and drinking rooms and multiple levels.  Most of their serving is carvery (cafeteria, fetch your own) style, and the plates and helpings are quite substantial.  That’s supper for the four of us on Monday.  

This is where we stop for light lunch.  It looks like a small pub from its entrance on Nassau street, right around the corner from the entrnce to Grafton Street, the major downtown shopping street and pedestrialn mall.  The inside belies the entrance, and it’s a regular warren of rooms. They brew their own beers and ales and offer samplers, and picture-worthy comestibles. 

Jameson Irish Whiskey isn’t the only Irish Whiskey. There are lots of others. It’s a blended whiskey.  It’s distilled three times, aged in white oak casks, and then watered to bring it to proper alcoholic content.  It’s very pleasant, no rough edges, and gets a lot of PR.  The tour of the old distillery is fun, not much different from other distillery or brewery tours in details, but you do climb around in the old wooden structures with mannequins, dioramas, machinery, and eventually wind up in a tasting room where you are given small amounts of Jameson, Jack Daniels, and a Scotch whiskey for side-by-side comparison, followed by a full measure of Jameson, which you can have neat, with ice, water, or with cranberry juice or ginger ale.  And the gift shop is fun, with a variety of variously aged product, including a station at which you can actually fill a bottle with the Special Reserve, cap it, seal it, and have your name printed on the bottle label as your private stock.  

We get there early enough so that the wait (still during the Easter weekend Bank Holiday) is only about 45 minutes.  After the mission is complete, we split up.  Paula and I head for a pub for some light lunch.

Our two main objecives for Monday are the Jail and the distillery.  Kilmainham prison is the first prislon to experiment with confining one person to a cell.  The population soon overtook the plan, with women, children, and men all crowded into the cells and corridors.  It wasn’t until much later that glass was installed in the windows on the theory that light and fresh air all year would contribute to driving out bad tendencies. And since the population was largely people who couldn’t pay their debts, as well as violent and political prisoners, the overcrowding became a massisve problem, especially during the famine years of 1845-50, when it was typcially 6 men to a cell and women and children down to 9 years of age put up in the corridors.  In those five years, 30,000 peop;e passed through the prison.  

The prison is a popular attraction. Even earlier in the day, the lines are substantial.

If you have seen the Daniel Day Lewis movie, In the Name of the Father, you have seen the inside of Kilmainham. and it is cold, damp, dark, and unfriendly.  And the writings inside make it quite clear that the authorities were all about making conditions worse on the inside than poverty and starvation on the outside.

One of the most significant events was the execution of 14 men who were leaders of the 1916 rising.  they were “tried” by courts martial, sentenced to death, and shot, and their particular cells are marked.  One of them, James Connolly, had been wounded, shot in the leg in the Rising. So determeined was the commander of the British army forces to squelch the uprising, that he ignored all advice from his underlings and authorities in London and had the rebel leaders tried, lined up and shot over the course of 5 days.  British law at the time provided that a sick or wounded person could not be executed until he was healthy, and although Connolloy would probably have died within a few days from his wounds, he was strapped to a chair, placed before a firing squad, and shot, thereby cementing all these men into martyrdom, turning a country that mostly dissented from the rebels into a sympathetic populace, triggering a movement toward independence, and eventually preciptating the island into years of civil war.  During British rule, there were approximately 180 executions at Kilmainham, and during the civil war under Irish administration, that figure climbed to over 700.  

There are references to the 14 all over Dublin.  There were actually 16, but one was well connected to London and pssessed USA citizenship as well, and his sentence was commuted and then was pardoned under the General Amnesty two years later, and the second was a woman, the wife of a Polish nobleman, and she was let go. Eamon DeValera eventually went on to become the Prime Minister of the newly inderpendent Republic of Ireland. 

Our supper done, and early bedtime complete and rest less complete than we would prefer, we meet for breakfast to plan the day.  No-one has slept particularly well, but John has been up and out, looking around and hoping to find out NCAA scores from Saturday’s basketball game.  Oddly enough, no locals seem to be aware of the game results, neither at hotels nor at newsstands.  He found a copy of USA Today, but it’s Saturday’s edition, and lacks the important information, and Sky News seems to have ignored the event.  After breakfast, we are able to confirm a score, and University of Wisconsin has beaten University of Kentucky and is headed for the final.  

Sunday will be a hop-on, hop-off tour, and we have two objectives – Kilmainham Gaol and Jameson Old Distillery.  We  get our two-day tickets, with the intent of doing a general ride, but with two stops, with more selected stops the following day.  Easter Weekend, however, is a four day weekend, and those two stops are among the most popular holiday attractions.  By the time our bus gets to the prison, we are promised a two hour wait.  We stay on with intentions for Jameson on the theory that it won’t be quite so much a family destination.  Along the way is the Phoenix Park and the Dublin Zoo, which attract large crowds on a nice day, and traffic in and out of the park is slow.  When we get to the distillery, the tours are booked for the next couple of hours too, and none of us are interested in waiting that long, so we sit and have one of their bar  concoctions.  Then we head back to the bus for the final leg of the bus tour.

O’Connell Street is closed to vehicle traffic in respect of the 99th aniversary of the 1916 Easter Rising, so the bus has to truncate it’s tour and goes directly to the start point.  Paula and I elect to head back to the hotel on the next bus, while John and Lynn elect a transfer to the Docklands Tour bus.  

We make our way to Trinity College to the gift shop to see if there is anything we need.  Last time we were here, I scored a very nice and colorful Celtic knotwork tie, but the stock and patterns have not changed or expanded, and there aren’t any other needed items, so we move on to a World of Irelend shop, which has some very nice ladie’s scarves, unfortunately at much too high a price, and in the shop are John and Lynn with an unenthusiastic review of the Docklands tour.

Next stop, nap and then dinner.  Paula and I have enthused over an Italian restaurant discovered on our last trip over on the north quay along the Liffey, but it turns out to be closed due to the Holiday, so we elect another restaurant close by. This turns out to be part of the family of restaurants that operates the first choice, with more of an emphasis on salads, starters, and desserts.  Oh, well… and we dive in without hesitation.

Getting into the City around 12:30, we will have to wait for our rooms to be ready, and we’re prepared for that. The taxi ride into the city center is an extended chat with the driver, who has many questions, opinions, and recommendations. In particular he inveighs against going to Temple Bar, when there is a myriad of better places to enjoy a pint and music that won’t overcharge you, lists good places for “trad” music, dishes on the current government, and tells us aobut our hotel.  Seems it is right up close against several government buildings,and whatever   governmental skulduggery or power grabs may be current are hatched in the pub at Buswell’s hotel.  

He pulls up right in front of the hotel.  Buswell’s is an older hotel, but nicely renovated.  It started in one residential townhouse, and has since taken over two others that are not necessarily equivlent in levels, which makes for interesting treks up and down stairs from the lobby to our respective rooms.  The pub is very nice, and we are treated to free tea and coffee pending our rooms being readied, which is accepted and then followed by our first Irish drink, not free. At 2 PM sharp we are admitted to our rooms, and promise to meet later to take a walk into the downtown.  Lynn needs some cleanser from the department store, and we need to secure a couple of SIM cards for two phones, so that we can communicate with each other and with home if necessary.  Both are taken care of at a department store on O’Connell Street, and then we walk up to Madigan’s pub in quest of the kind of sustenance to be found in a pub.  After a short wait, we are refreshed and better able to face the effects of jet lag.  

Getting a SIM card with an unlocked phone is a simple and inexpensive way to get communication, and it takes but a few minutes, and once our first pub drink is finished we address the challenge of supper.  This is met by pub food – bangers and mash, shepherds pie, and the like.  Then it is early to bed for the travelers.

We stop for a nightcap in the hotel pub, but John heads for bed.  As a result, he misses the turndown service. Weh we get to our room later, we discover the bed turned down, and chocolate bunnies on each pillow, illuminated in little spotlight reading lamps.  

Easter Bunnies in our bed

All is not lost, though.  Sunday morning, their chocloate bunnies are presented to them at their breakfast table.  The hotel staff keeps track of who has not received their holiday favors, and John and Lynn do not miss out, although they did miss out on the dramatic presentation.

The Gentle Reader (and others) may find the navigation a bit challenging, for which I apologize. My excuse is the difficulty I find in predicting what posting is going to land where on the site, and trying to post in a more organized way.  So far I have posted We Answer Ireland’s Call and Dublin Airport, but the post appears in different places on the site, probably due to my ineptitude combined with the shortcomings of the iPad’s WordPress app.

Getting through the formalities in Dublin is relatively easy, the most tedious part being getting through passport control. Early mornings are generally crowded with transatlantic tourists, so the lines are zig-zag queues, Disney style. I read that this is actually a Disney discovery at the New York world’s fair of 1964, where they experimented with their exhibits and crowd control and invented the reconfigurable switchback systems that could accomodate both heavy and slack customer traffic, no doubt taking advantage of the hordes of people drawn to the boat ride through the It’s a Small World attraction. Jim is a veteran of that particular ear worm. (with a shout-out to Cousin Ginny in case she ever reads this). The queue is long and crowded for non-EU nationals, and only thee booths are operating, and a fourth opens up as we about half-way along. In about 40 minutes we are up to the booth, asked a few questions, and are waved through with good wishes from the agent.

Recaiming luggage is easy, and all luggage is accounted for and assembled. Customs inspection in Dublin is a non-event. You walk past a Customs Green line and a Customs Red line, through an arch, and you are suddenly in the Liberties of Dublin Airport. Asking for the ground transportation area, we are told by a friendly fellow in a neon yellow vest that four people and luggage makes for a break-even and more convenient taxi trip rather than the airport bus, taking us right to the hotel to boot and avoiding dragging luggage over cobbled streets.  We’re all about that, so we find the taxi rank, stuff the trunk with the help of a volumetrically canny driver, and head into the City.

Saturday is a day of rest and packing.  Breakfast was close to lunch at the Golden Egg Omelet House in Escondido. We discovered this place several years ago, and it merits at least one breakfast out each time. The poster-sized menu lists 99 combinations of omelets with substantial insertions such as corned beef, Polish sausage, avocado (this is avocado country), broccoli, onions, and many others. And if the combinatios don’t suit, you can order your owmcombination. The other column lists the more pedestrian breakfast and lunch selections.     Bread and toast possibilites include Dudley’s bread, a date and nut bread popular in the region, that is more than the sum of its parts. It’s a popular place on any morning and especially a Saturday.

A quick stop at the supermarket to lay in some last supplies for Saturday dinner, and then a long tour of the back roads down to Encinitas, up the coast on the Pacific Coast Highway with a pause to watch the ocean at Carlsbad, up to Oceanside and past the mission San Luis Rey, then back through Gopher Canyon to the resort.  Baron announces loudly that he is not tired, so it must be the big breakfast that puts him to sleep, and he is not enamored of the ocean, just wants to go home.   



Clouds have rolled in and the temperature has fallen, so the possibility of another visit to the pool and waterslide fades, and the rest of the evening will be slow and easy.  Sunday morning will require an early rise, 5:30 AM, to make it to the airport by 8.

Baron seems of two minds about going home to Wisconsin, which is as it should be.

The iPad app for WordPress has gone squirrely, and doesn’t recognize or won’t transmit my password, although other connections via laptop and mobile work just fine. So maybe I can delete the app and re-install.  Dang! PITA! And just when I was getting to the good stuff!  Well, relatively speaking…



favorite local vineyard and winery is Orfila, close by the Safari Park, and we have a glass of wine to celebrate two days of hard parking, joined by Baron’s acquisitions, a plush Orca and baby from SeaWorld and a cheetah from the Safari Park.



We became acquainted with this as the Wild Animal Park, but that is apparently not sufficient branding for these times. It is now a safari park and every attraction or closer observation of its residents is termed a safari, including the tethered balloon ascension ride.  First off was the Africa tram ride, a 30 minute ride around the Africa section of the park including giraffes, rhinos, buffalo, and other large animals to be observed from a safe distance and with a telephoto lens rather than an iPad. Then hike back to catch some lunch (good for theme park food!), and pick up an elecric scooter for Paula, whose foot has been vigorously protesting the previous day’s hike around SeaWorld. Happily, the premier feature of the park for Paula, the elephants, can be observed more closely.  A mother-son family was brought into the elephant stadium while the son (11 years old) was being treated in a small holding area for some ear problems. We were told that the smell of the medication on the son’s ear sets the mother to worrying and fussing, so they appease her with treats while he is being treated. 

Tret for the day was witnessing the cheetah run.  They have set up a 100 meter course to allow a chhetah to demonstrate its running prowess.  Its constant companion is a Belgian Malinois dog, raised together with the cheetah, to poject confidence and calm  to the chetah in the presence of crowds and to encourage running.  Preceded by the dog, the cheetah cases a lure on a winched line, runnng at about 55 mph, which is not top speed but the distance is about maximum. For its high speeds. So enthralled was Baron, that he required a cheetah (plush) to take home.



We caught up with Alicia, John, Ali, and Robert aboard their new home, Promise, docked at Pier 32 in National City, south of San Diego. They live aboard a 30-foot Ranger sailboat, beginning earlier this month. They’re sufficiently new to the live-aboard life that there are many small cosmetic changes to be made, plenty of projects for John, plenty of helpful know-how to be learned from other owner/residents, and plenty for all but John to learn in terminology, practice, organization, and minimalization. John gave Baron a thorough tour of the boat, while we caught up with Alicia and got a longer version of her blog about live-aboard life. They have crewed for their first regatta as a family, learned the difference between sheets and ropes, beds and berths, and settled into school routines.  We’ll follow her blog with great interest. Http://Arosjaar.wordpress.com.





At the sea lion site, the monarch of the rocks catches some attention while colleagues merely catch some rays (sun, not bat). The bird on the rock is one of many gathered at the sea lion site, waiting to swoop down and steal fish from hesitant viewers. For $5, you can buy five small fish in a cardboard fast food boat, and toss them to the sea lions.  Hence the expression, “Well, throw you you a fish!” or “Flip you a flounder!” If, however, you are slow to toss, the birds will swoop in and steal, just like on “The Voice.” And these have sharp beaks, and they don’t say “Mine!” like seagulls in the movies. 

While we were there, a falconer stopped by with falcon on his wrist, and released him/her. Hard to tell.  The opportunistic birds scattered like chaff in the wind.