"Are we there yet?"
Good journey out to Drogheda on the M50 and then the M1.
"Oliver Plunkett's head. Where is it?"
"There's no head here!"
It was in the 25-foot tall reliquary, near where the lady local was lighting a candle for her presumed good intention. One severed head, some rib-bones and a hip later, we found ourselves among the ladies of the town in the Copper Kettle coffee shop, enjoying a cappucino.
The waitress, almost dislocating her neck to see what's going on among the passersby on the street below tipped over a milk jug onto the floor.
"It's hot in here," Herself said.
Drogheda is a nice-looking town with several spots of historical interest. It's hilly, so walking shoes are a good idea. I had mine, anyway. There are lots of people bustling about and plenty of shopping. Off Laurence Street is a new mall which is still awaiting tenants, but there are plenty of single shops and boutiques along the streets. One gets the impression that there is a lot going on in the town that our fleeting visit couldn't cover.
Lunch was served in the Westcourt Hotel. Always a good idea to go where the locals are eating, and this was very busy. "Family friendly" is the term I'd use. Ear-plugs an option if you are not too family friendly yourself. Food quite good, but suffered a little from the perennial problem that carvery's have, i.e, the food goes cold quickly.
We took a quick jaunt over to Newgrange, remembering along the way that the only access is through the visitor centre at Bru na Boinne. So we took a few quick snaps over the hedge and headed for home.