by There is always a moment on the journey from Dublin to London – which I do every month or two, going by land and sea via Holyhead instead of flying – when I stop what I am doing – reading or writing or chatting with someone next to me – and think: you won’t enjoy this from 40,000 feet.
Sometimes it is at Britannia Bridge in north Wales. As the train crosses the Straits from Anglesey I can see, to my right, a concrete statue of Lord Nelson watching lonely from the shore, and further up the river the grounds of the sweeping Plas Newydd country house down to the water. To the left, on a tiny island with a curved jetty, stand two handsome whitewashed houses that will one day disappear under rising sea levels but are now standing out against the elements.
I will stop again as the train passes Conwy, with its imposing medieval castle and absurdly beautiful water front, home to the smallest house in Britain, and later still as we move along the coast further out from the Bay Colwyn, and legions of capable offshore wind turbines. to glimpse through the mist.
On the return journey, as the ferry enters Dublin Harbour, I will watch the Head of Binnhead rise up to greet us, followed by the crimson lighthouse at the end of the Great South Wall and the red chimneys and white emerging. beyond that – the unmistakable sign that we are about to dock in Ireland’s capital.
People often ask me why I choose to travel between Dublin and London by ferry and rail instead of flying, which takes much less time. I’ll answer by talking about the price, or the smooth check-in process with minimal baggage restrictions, or the direct connection into Central London, or the carbon emissions, which according to one estimate are about 95% lower than going by plane. But the small details are most important to me – the things you see, the people you meet and the familiars you enter and the lulling rhythms of the journey impress me.
When I moved to London in 2002, the thought of taking the slow route home to Dublin never occurred to me. Going by air was faster: you can fly from city to city within 90 minutes, but of course you have to spend the time it takes to get to the airport, clear security, go through duty free , wait to board, wait to the airport. take off, and go through the associated rigmarole on the other side. And it’s free.
Then, about 15 years ago, a friend told me about SailRail, a package that bundled Irish Sea train and ferry tickets into one fare – connecting not just London but any town across Wales with a station. I was skeptical about the era but the price was keen – these days it’s £102.20, but back then it was about half that – so I decided to give it a go.
I’ll be honest: I didn’t like SailRailing right away. Train travel is one of life’s great pleasures but in Britain it can be frustrating in the face of delays, cancellations and broken routes. It took me a while to work out how to time my journey so that I didn’t have to change trains in Crewe and again, 20 minutes later, in Chester. And Holyhead, for the beauty of surrounding Anglesey, is not a heart-stopping town – not least the stretch between the terminal and the ferry dock, which feels oppressively gray on even the sunniest evening.
The things you see, the people you meet and the familiars you enter as the lulling rhythms of the journey take hold of me
The ships – Irish Ferries and Stena are the two options on the route from Holyhead to Dublin – feel dated and a bit tacky, and if you head out of Dublin on a match day, you have the option of watching football supporters at get stuck. in for a cooked breakfast and pint at 8am or join them. The crossing can be rough, although it would take a big gale to straighten one of the big boats when the stabilizers are out. (In those days, I’d rather take my chances on a 50,000 ton ferry than a dinky commuter plane.)
If you travel with Irish Ferries, which I tend to do, this unfolds within a literary theme park of excellent misogyny. The flagship Ulysses is full of references to James Joyce’s masterpiece: you can eat reheated pizza slices (but not pork kidneys) at Boylan’s Brasserie, drink tequila slammers at Leopold Bloom’s bar or indulge in soft fun at the entertainment center Cyclops family. (The faster ferry is called the Jonathan Swift, which is often canceled if the wind picks up.)
Despite – or perhaps because of – these idiosyncrasies, I kept coming back for more. For years, I would SailRail to Dublin and fly back; the journey out of London Euston is usually smoother, especially if you take the direct train to Holyhead leaving around 9am. But since moving back to Dublin in 2020, I’ve ditched the air option and now actively look forward to my day crossing the Irish Sea and down through Wales and England. The trip takes eight or nine hours, but without the internet to distract me it’s usually a solid day of work, or at least I have time to read and think.
Some distractions are welcome. When the Icelandic volcano erupted on European air travel in 2010, I was chatting with two fellow SailRailers on the train out of London. One thing, delightfully, was the actor who played Gestapo agent Herr Flick in the sitcom ‘Allo ‘Allo!. The other was very successful – and I often thank the ash clouds of Eyjafjallajökull for introducing us.
Recently I’ve chatted with touring graffiti artists, septuagenarian world travelers and a woman who was found by God after getting lost in the middle of the Sahara (she prayed for help and a crow appeared to lead her back to safety). Last Autumn, when my partner and I took our whippet-saluki over on a morning sailing (pet-friendly cabins are available on Stena) we were approached by an elderly Traveler couple who told us about similar dogs who like over the beach. years.
Ferries are heavily used by Travelers, following a route Irish people have taken with UK connections for centuries. You’ll also come across plenty of truck drivers, as well as students, backpackers and non-flyers. What you don’t get a lot of, amongst the SailRail contingent, are British tourists. When I mentioned the package to friends and colleagues in London, few of them had heard of it. And when I tell them the fare, which doesn’t go up for last-minute bookings, they’re surprised: £51.10 from London to Holyhead and now by boat to Dublin? You’re kidding, right?
Still, I rarely recommend SailRail without a series of caveats. It is not to everyone’s taste. And it could be a lot better than it is now – rail links are unreliable and foot passengers on ferries are often treated as an afterthought. But despite its troubles I have come to enjoy the easy pace of the ride and the relentless crowd it brings together. I even have affection for those words from Joyce.
And I love that long, slow train ride along the north coast of Wales, past castles and wind turbines and island houses lost to the waves. A journey is much richer and stranger when you travel close to the ground.
SailRail tickets from London Euston to Dublin Ferry Port from £return 102.20 (+ booking fee) via trainline.com
