We knew Dublin was the place we wanted to start since it is one of the cheapest cities to fly into from the East coast, and Ireland (in general) is known to have a friendly and easy-going nature. I’m sure we would have made it out alive if we chose a different route instead, but easing ourselves into a stretch of foreign places and then easing back out to those that were more familiar did help with foregoing culture shock. I would highly recommend doing the same if possible.
After Dublin, our next stop was London. The easiest way to get from one to another is by plane, but there is also an option known as the “Sail and Rail.” As you can probably deduce, the Sail and Rail is a mixture of ferry and train rides. In this case, we took a ferry from Dublin to Holyhead (on the West coast of Wales) and then a train across the UK countryside to London.
Let me begin by saying that the train ride from Holyhead to London was stunning and — I will admit– made the entire Sail and Rail worth it. You will understand how crazy beautiful this must mean it was once you get to the end of this story. I distinctly remember gazing out the window wanting to cry (due to a mixture of awe, exhaustion and sheer relief). The countryside in Wales and England were alluring and comforting; filled with sheep, cows, and so much green. I wish I had photos to prove it, but I had nothing left in me to even take my phone out.
Before deciding on the Sail and Rail, we found mixed reviews online but still figured it was worth a shot. If you still want to give it a go after reading this, information can be found on their website here.
The saga begins:
We arrived just in time thanks to our taxi. It was not recommended to us to walk to and/or through the Dublin Ferries Port– we would have never found our line area anyway had we been walking. Once aboard, we were surprised by the smell of delicious breakfast food. And since we woke up too early for our included hostel breakfast in order to make our departure time, we were hungry.
Ryan convinced me to go for the full English breakfast and I think deep down we both knew we’d regret it. Either way, we filled up our trays and found a nice window spot in the middle of the starboard side to call home. At 08:45, right on time, we were on our way to Holyhead.
Taking in our surroundings, we found that our neighboring tables were filled with what seemed to be “regulars” that had also gotten a full English breakfast. Once they were finished, they then put their feet up, hats over their eyes, and were off to sleep. In addition to these groups, the children’s area was just next to us in the dead center of the ship. It was set up like a movie theatre with a small TV and the original 101 Dalmations playing. I could faintly hear the opening song and laughed to myself; thinking about how old the original 101 Dalmatians must be.
About 30 minutes in, Ryan was not looking so hot. Even the “regulars” were now shuffling in their seats, switching positions to bury their heads into their crossed arms on the table in front of them. The swaying seemed pretty intense but Ryan nor I ever get sea sick- we were giving ourselves internal pep talks that this was nothing we couldn’t handle. I had also taken Dramamine earlier that morning as a precaution and felt fairly confident in its abilities. “Do you want one? I have more in my bag.” I could tell he didn’t want to give in but we both knew it was probably a good idea. That English breakfast…
As time went on, the ship was literally rocking from side to side so much that you could not stand. There were older people getting up to use the bathroom or move seats, and I watched them make their every move, genuinely concerned that the stationary furniture of which they were about to bash their head into, would be the last thing they ever saw. It was like a car crash. I could not look away. 101 Dalmatians was still on. I thought about moving over to the children’s section to watch it.
Our hopes of this subsiding came to a screeching halt once the captain came upon the loudspeaker.
“We are experiencing extreme swells…going to continue…”
That was all my brain processed. A confirmation that we weren’t overreacting and that unfortunately, this torture was not going to end. Audible groans and heavy sighs throughout the cabin ensued.
I now had to pee and had no idea how much longer this hell would last. I could not hold it if I was to focus on staying un-nauseated. The women’s restroom was to the far port side and all the way in the front of the ship. I mentally prepared my reflex muscles and extended my arms out, trying my best to take the sways of the ship in stride. Thankfully I made it back and forth without injury and sat back into my seat. However, this only escalated the motion sickness I was experiencing, and I had officially lost my battle with the Irish Sea.
My only coping mechanism was to avert 100% of my attention on 101 Dalmatians. My hands were cupped around my eyes (as if I were a horse with blinders) and I kept my reflex muscles moving, tapping and bouncing my knees to confuse my body of the movements beyond my control. Ryan continued to stare directly out at the horizon; saying that helped him. To this day, I have no idea how he did this.
For the remainder of the ride, we did not speak. I didn’t dare to even open my mouth in fear that the English breakfast would voluntarily spew out. It took everything we had to hold it together for the remaining hour or more. They must have started 101 Dalmatians over while I was in the restroom. I counted my blessings.
Eventually, we felt the swells decrease and saw the port in the very far off distance. Ryan and I both pointed and acknowledged the end, eyes wide. “LAND,” was all we could verbalize before we went back to our mute existence. I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands in relief. The end was in sight.
Disembarking and finding our train was a blur. There was a shuttle that took us from one to the other, but it could have been a unicorn for all I know. We were simply so happy to be off the ferry and slowly but surely regaining our equilibrium.