At the end of August 2012, my partner and I traveled from Dublin to London using a ferry and a train. I documented the trip in pictures. (There's a wealth of information about this "SailRail" journey on the Man in Seat 61's website if you want more logistical details.)
Early on a Friday morning, an enclosed gangway fed people into the massive ferry called Ulysses in the Port of Dublin.
The perplexing Joycean theme continued inside the ship, which had a shopping mall and a "James Joyce Balcony Lounge."
Lifeboats splashed against the water down below.
Disembarking meant passing through another industrial tunnel.
Now we had reached a transportation hub on the Welsh island Ynys Môn, or in English Anglesey.
A fancy pedestrian bridge connected travelers with the town of Holyhead.
The clearly expensive bridge contrasted uncomfortably with the struggling "pound shops" lining the high street.
At Holyhead's center we found the church of St. Cybi, whose namesake was buried here in 555. The Cornish saint is also commemorated in the town's Welsh name, Caergybi.
The medieval church was built on a Roman fort, whose still intact walls seemed to whisper "helloooo" as we passed through the churchyard.
Back in the railway station, intricately decorated brackets held up the roof. This reminded me of a strong impression from my only other trip to Europe, when I was 17: functional things were prettier there than in the United States.
We climbed aboard our train, which was run by Virgin under contract with the government. It was not very clean inside, or comfortable. The dirty windows made it impossible to take decent pictures of all the castles passing by outside.
And then, finally, we arrived at incredibly bustling Euston Station in London at about 17:00. Waiting for our hostess to meet us, we got to see crowds of commuters having the weekend's first drink at old gatehouses that had been cleverly converted into watering holes.