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10-01-2015 Galway to Sligo

Ireland Day 11 Galway to Sligo

This last three days have been intense to say the least. It is a bit like visiting Yosemite, The Grand Canyon, and Yellowstone in three consecutive days. Crazy, and yet on a two week trip to Ireland, when we might not ever return, I wouldn’t have wanted to miss any one of these beautiful landscapes, so it is worth it.

This morning when we woke in Galway, the fog once again shrouded our hotel and Galway Bay. I didn’t sleep much last night, who knows why. Something that seems to be a problem for me is getting all the “stuff” charged. The camera is a battery hog, so I do have to get those lithium batteries (I have 3 thank goodness) charged up, most important. Hmmm…I am talking like our tour guide, with her strong Italian accent always saying “Most Importanta!” It has become a bus joke. The other bus joke has to do with her fluency with the language. She is doing an excellent job, and speaks several languages, but sometimes when speaking to us, she will forget the exact word for something and now when she hesitates, the entire bus choruses the word to her in unison. Silly, but if you are on the bus for long periods small things become incredibly entertaining.

The original plan was for a leisurely drive along Galway Bay, but with the fog, the driver chose to take the more direct route directly to Connemara. Our destination was the Connemara Marble Factory, where the beautiful green Connemara Marble (actually it is very hard granite) is quarried nearby and then fashioned into beautiful jewelry. The finest is the deep green Ireland Jade, but several other green colors are also quite beautiful. I enjoyed the demonstration by the factory manager, with all the beautiful raw material washed down so we could see the colors and then views of the polished sides as well. Gorgeous stuff! Reminded me a lot of the “jade” that is found in the far northwestern part of California, where I picked up a gorgeous polished piece that still graces my garden.

We enjoyed the tour, and the prices for the beautiful jewelry in the showroom were better than any we saw any time later in Ireland. Definitely worth buying at the factory if you like the jewelry. I found a sweet small keepsake shamrock fashioned in the green jade that will be my Ireland memento, small enough to fit in the suitcase.

I mentioned to Mo that I had thought that Connemara was a large park, not simply a marble factory, as I watched the foggy landscape roll by. As we entered County Connemara, however, the fog began to lift ever so slightly and we got a glimpse of the beautiful mountains that surrounded us as we traveled through the Inagh Valley. Home of the movie “The Quiet Man” with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara, we passed the Quiet Man Bridge featured in the movie and stopped for an obligatory stop at a replica of the cottage where the movie was filmed. Actually the movie was filmed at both the original cottage as well as the replica because the local people were tired of all the movie folks taking over their village so they built the replica in a more remote place. I guess that movie has been re-digitized, so I think it might be fun to rent it.

The skies magically cleared more and more as we continued north into the “peated land”. Even on rolling hills there is up to 15 meters of organic peat soil that has been used as fuel in this part of Ireland. The peat is cut into bricks with a large knife, stacked to dry, and then stored for winter much as we store firewood in the west. In the midst of the peat land, there are turloughs.

A turlough, or turlach, is a type of disappearing lake found mostly in limestone areas of Ireland, west of the River Shannon. The name comes from the Irish word “tuar”, meaning dry, with the suffix “lach”, meaning a place (in an abstract sense). The “lach” suffix is often mistakenly spelled and/or thought to refer to the word “loch”, the Irish, Scottish Gaelic and Scots word for lake. They are found in Irish karst (exposed limestone) areas. In the United States we have karst topography in the southeast part of the country and in Florida, where we often hear news of sinkholes that are common in karst areas.

The turlough features, however, are almost unique to Ireland, although there is one example in Great Britain in a place called Llandeilo. The turloughs are of great interest to many scientists: geomorphologists are interested in how turloughs were formed, hydrologists try to explain what makes turloughs flood, botanists study the unusual vegetation which covers the turlough floor and zoologists study the animals associated with the turloughs.

It was a fascinating landscape, made even more so as the wild glaciated granite Connemara Mountains became visible as the fog lifted completely and was replaced with brilliant sunshine. Another amazing sunshiny day in Ireland, something none of us expected, and incredibly rare. Even more rare, is the run of sunny days without rain that have graced every single day of this tour. Incredibly lucky for us!

01 Galway to Sligo (32 of 173) We stopped at an overlook near Lough Inagh Lake for some photos of the fabulous reflections of the mountains on the silky smooth water. There must be gorgeous trails to explore throughout this park, and again, I would love to have the time to stay here for a week or more to explore, hike and bike. Then again, it probably would be raining, as is did all summer, with the poor Irish sad about daily rain and no summer at all this year. They seem to be as excited as we are about this Indian Summer reprieve that just happened to show up for our visit.

Our destination was the Kylemore Abbey and Castle, a jewel beside a lake backed up by the beautiful mountains. Kylemore was built quite recently, finished in 1871, a song of love from William Henry to his beloved wife. The view of the Abbey is probably another one of those iconic Ireland views that most people have seen at one time or another.

Later: I knew this would happen. I am lost. I left off last writing about our trip through Connemara and Kylemore Abbey. At the moment, it is 1AM in Belfast and neither of us can sleep. Mo is reading so I thought maybe I would try to catch up. My mind is a mushy blur! Worst part of this is that my usual method of recreating the memories in my mind is unavailable to me. Two 32 GIG cards for photos, and a couple of days ago I had to switch out cards. All the previous photos are tucked away safely. No photo reminders.

01 Galway to Sligo (44 of 173) 01 Galway to Sligo (48 of 173) Kylemore Abbey has such a great story. I suppose I will simply link to it when I write the blog, because it is really worth reading, but probably not worth trying to recreate. Click on the link to read about it in more detail. First it was the site of a hunting lodge, where Mitchell Henry took his beloved wife Margaret. She loved it so much, he bought it for her, and then built this magnificent castle for them and their 9 children. Sadly, she only lived there for four years after its completion before she died from dysentery caught while they were traveling in Africa. Yeah. Dysentery. We take a lot for granted when we travel nowadays, such as antibiotics!

01 Galway to Sligo (60 of 173) The house is quite impressive in that way of castles, and nicer than the Medieval castles we have seen so far, and probably a lot warmer. Even more magnificent than the castle, however, were the gardens. Long winding paths for a mile or so in each direction along the lake were planted with trees from all over the world. Walking under the shade of these gorgeous trees, with views of the mountains and lakes was so restful.

The house was sold to another couple, the Duke and Duchess of Manchester, much less romantic and wonderful than the first. The Manchester’s were gamblers, and the wife was constantly changing the castle, removing much of Margaret’s beautiful marble work and replacing it with the heavy woods that are still there today. They gambled the house away, and it fell into some other uses before finally becoming the Abbey that it is today, and now home of the Benedictine nuns.

At Kylemore, the nuns reopened their international boarding school and established a day school for local girls. They also ran a farm and guesthouse; the guesthouse was closed after a devastating fire in 1959. In 2010, the Girl’s Boarding School was closed and the nuns have since been developing new education and retreat activities in addition to crafting items for sale in the Kylemore gift shop. 01 Galway to Sligo (55 of 173) 01 Galway to Sligo (58 of 173)

Some especially interesting pieces in the Abbey were the tapestries, vestments, and paintings that were hidden by the Benedictine nuns while they were in exile in Belgium during the during the 16th century when Irish Catholics were under persecution by the protestants in control.

We also loved the little church that Mitchell built for his wife after her death to honor her. It was done in Gothic style, but all the decorations were lighthearted, with no gargoyles but only angels and flowers and vines. It was beautiful, with pillars made with four colors of marble from the four provinces of Ireland. Just down the path from the church is the small mausoleum that contains the remains of Mitchell and Margaret. Nearby is a triangular stone that is said to grant wishes if you can manage to toss a pebble backwards and get it over the stone. Mo succeeded!

At Kylemore, there is a magnificent Victorian walled garden, with a perennial border like those I used to study in my English gardening books back in the days when I could actually grow something. I do miss that Northern Idaho soil and climate. Spokane and the Inland Northwest is probably one of the best gardening sites I know of.

We had plenty of time at the Abbey to enjoy the peaceful environment, have a snack and a coffee, do plenty of walking and take photos. It was the perfect amount of time because when it was time to load up in the busses, I was completely ready to sit back and relax. I have been wearing the fitbit, and Mo and I have been averaging much more than our 10,000 steps per day!

Driving north we meandered along Killary Harbour, the only true fjord in Ireland, a place where the mountains meet the sea and there is no active river feeding the water. Of course, at the moment I can’t remember the name of the fjord, or the name of the town that was at the head of the fjord that experienced something like a huge flash flood just a few years ago, that wiped out the hotel and much of the town. I have to look that one up as well, since Isabella referred often to the thought that no one really understood what actually happened or where the water came from. Remember…no rivers there. Just the shallow rocky slopes of the Connemara granite all around, reminding me a lot of the rocky parts of Southern Utah that generate huge flash floods when there is nowhere for the water to go and no infiltration.

Along the shoreline where we stopped for photos of the fjord were some Druid trees. Isabella seems to be quite receptive to sharing some of the Old Religion stuff, although she is fairly subtle about it She made sure that we knew these were Druid trees, and to many of the people on the bus, had to explain that yes, the Druids are still around, and highly active in Ireland. It is an earth religion, honoring the trees especially. Isabella talked often of how the early Catholic monks so easily converted the Celts to Christianity because they kept many of the Pagan traditions and incorporated them into their rituals.

As we continued north we came to one of the more delightful small towns along the way, the port village of Westport. With an entire half hour to explore this wonderful town, it was a bit frustrating to get back on the bus. There were shops that were full of really interesting crafts, weavings, art, and sidewalk cafes.

We explored a real supermarket, with all sorts of wonderful fresh food, including fresh game meats, and many kinds of Irish butter.

Ah yes…the tour thing. Still, at least we got to enjoy it a bit and decided if we ever came back to Ireland, it would be another place to hang out for more time.

As we descended in elevation from the Connemara mountains, approaching the city of Castlebar, the landscape again began to shift. The houses looked a lot bigger and the entire area felt quite affluent. It felt much like the Bay Area of California. Fewer little cottages, and a lot more quite large houses with solariums and gorgeous large estate like yards.

Although Mo and I have enjoyed the amazing clarity of the air for the last ten days, around Sligo that started to shift as well. It looked as though there was a forest fire, and I asked if that ever happened in Ireland. Oh no, Isabella reassured us, but the smoke that we saw and smelled was from the burning peat, the major source of fuel in this part of the country.

When we arrived at our hotel in Sligo, it was almost dark, and once settled in to the very strange very modern very brightly colored Glass House, we took to the streets to find something to eat. Although the hotel had a restaurant, it was time for something different and we at least wanted to see a bit of the town along the river. The pub was dark and much like all the others, so we passed it by, wandering down an area called the Italian Quarter. Perfect. 1-10-01-20105 Galway to Sligo1

The whatever it was named restaurant…(by the time this gets to the blog I will have the photos and will get all the names right)…. Bistro Bianconi was rated 4.5 stars by Tripadvisor and the smells emanating were enticing. We had a wonderful dinner, Mo had pizza and I had Spaghetti Napoletano, with Caesar salads to start and a great glass of Malbec. We dined next to a nice couple from the tour, and noticed many others found their way to this restaurant, a nice break from all the Irish fare. Even so, the Caesar salad was more Irish bacon and some other meat than lettuce. I am getting really hungry for a LOT of greens and fresh veggies.

The hotel, right along the river, seemed like a big cruise ship, but was comfortable enough once we settled in. Instead of 3 twin beds in a row, this time we had a huge king, and plenty of room to spread out with our “stuff”. Although it was the only one night stop, so we really didn’t need to spread out that much. I was afraid the bright colors might keep us awake, but after our great day, and a great meal, with such a comfortable bed we didn’t have any trouble at all.

It is always fun trying to figure out the plumbing in other countries, and Ireland is no exception. I couldn’t figure out how in the world anyone would get to the actual water tank portion of the toilet. They seem to be installed directly in the wall, and the top of the area over where the tank should be is completely closed in. Would have loved to talk to someone about this.

The incredibly deep tubs are wonderful for a soak, and are so long you could slide right down to your chin, but what a bear to get in and out, especially with just these wiggly glass doors to hold on to. Of course, the heated towel racks are a great luxury, but don’t do very well as handles.

For the rest of the photos for this amazing day, click here.

Next up: North from Sligo, visiting Yeat’s grave at Drumcliffe, and leaving the Republic of Ireland to enter Northern Ireland.

09-30-2015 The Burren and the Cliffs of Moher

Ireland Day 10

This morning dawned with the view from our hotel window of the stone wall with the cemetery behind it misted by fog. Somehow the good night’s sleep and lack of doing stuff had re-energized my spirits and I wasn’t the least bit concerned about the fog. This was our day to see the Cliffs of Moher, another extra excursion, one where the tour company was careful to warn us that it could be completely fogged in. I decided I wasn’t going to worry about it, and if the fog lingered throughout our morning, I would just take misty foggy interesting photos of the invisible cliffs.

In addition to the Cliffs of Moher, we were to explore the Burren. With my trusty book on Irish geology, I had read about the sandstones and limestones of the Burren, perused the photos and the diagrams and stratigraphy but nothing really prepared me for the drama and wonder of this limestone uplifted plain adjacent to Galway Bay and gateway to the Aran Islands. Who knew.

The route toward the Burren and the cliffs followed the coast along Galway Bay, with fog making everything misty and magical. We passed the Flatley pub, owned by Michael Flatley’s parents, (creator of Riverdance) and stopped in another charming little village for a coffee and a rest stop.

I expected to be enthralled with the cliffs, but had no idea that the Burren would be so magical. The fog stayed with us for most of the drive south and west toward the cliffs, and yet as we went higher and higher into the wild landscape, the fog began to lift as well. Burren means “rocky place”, and it is an understatement. The limestone plateau and glaciated mountains are some of the rockiest I have seen other than Southern Utah. Most fascinating are the fields, all beautifully fenced with gorgeous limestone walls that were built from rocks gathered in the fields.

The soils are extremely shallow above the limestone, so in order to make something that could grow grass, farmers cleared the rocks, built the fences, and then covered the fields with seaweed and sand to make soil. I couldn’t figure out how they kept them from being salty, other than the high precipitation leaching out the salts, and the process was completed over centuries. Now the fields for the cows and sheep stand in sharp contrast to the extremely rocky and stony surrounding landscape.

On the coastal portion of the Burren, we stopped on a cliff overlooking the sea to climb up into the Burren rocks. It is a karst landscape, with the limestone dissolved by rainwater and has underground caverns and tunnels that are filled with air. This air comes in from the warmer areas along the shoreline and heats up under the ground, making the Burren much warmer than it should be based on its location. Plants grow here from alpine to mediterranean in the grikes (deep cracks) between the clints (distinct blocks of solid limestone). Botanists come from all over the world to study the plants growing here.

We had a great time climbing and hunting for tiny flowers, breathing in the magnificent ocean views to the west. I could spend a lot of time in this place exploring. Even with the sunshine , it was still a bit windy and chilly so Mo and I were happy for jackets and scarves which we haven’t had to use much so far on this trip.

Not far from our stop at Black Head, we came to the beautiful visitor center for the Cliffs of Moher. It is a newly built center, with a ton of parking for the big tour busses that must be a huge part of the Irish economy. Built into the side of the mountain, it reflected the green mindset of much of what we have seen in Ireland. It is a very green country, not only in color but in its commitment to the environment.

Mo and I decided to begin our time at the cliffs with a visit to the center, but before we had much time inside, Isabella found us and said, “You need to get outside while you can since the fog has lifted and it could always come back”. Best advice of the entire trip so far!

The Cliffs extend for several miles in both directions from the center, with paved trails that go both right and left. We randomly decided to go right, and it was an excellent choice since we saw the iconic sites that I have drooled over in photos ever since I knew we were going to Ireland. Burren and the Cliffs of Moher (1 of 1)-100 The cliffs are more than 600 feet high and are famous for their swirling winds that can blow people right off to the sea below. A few years ago, Ireland built beautiful walls from the local slate to keep people safe from their own folly. I would have been grateful for those walls if it had been windy or wet, but with a dry trail and very little wind, we felt just fine walking the narrow packed dirt pathways adjacent to the cliffs.

I can barely describe how this felt. The paths are worn into deep soft green grass, with only a few places that have steep limestone steps to negotiate once it leaves the “official” pathway and becomes the “Burren Trail”. Burren and the Cliffs of Moher (1 of 1)-84 From a high point, I suggested that Mo go ahead so I could get photos of her on the cliffs from a distance, and then I would go and she could return and get some of me. It was a great plan, with photos that show the magnificence of the cliffs with each of us in turn looking very tiny next to the drops.

Burren and the Cliffs of Moher (1 of 1)-89 It was probably the most exhilarating hike I can remember. Mo and I hiked the Na Pali coast on Kauai and this was every bit as thrilling and a whole lot easier without the steamy heat. It is a world class iconic landscape, like seeing the Grand Canyon or Yosemite. What an incredible treasure.

This is the first night I have been especially frustrated with having no access to my photos to share with you. (Aren’t you glad you are reading the blog?!) I didn’t take the phone on the hike, which I have sometimes just to get a photo or two to put on facebook, but I suppose a phone photo of the cliffs would be a sad imitation anyway. In fact, I think any photo would be a sad imitation of the real thing. Put it on the list of ten things to see in the world. Really.

The drive back to town was gorgeous as well, with the fog lifted and the sunshine illuminating all that wild landscape that we couldn’t see this morning. The limestone steps of the Burren are huge mountains, glaciated in the last Ice Age, with the soft green valleys below a stark contrast to the rock.

This time, when we got back to the hotel, we didn’t linger long, and without even a change from our hiking boots, we took off walking toward the Spanish Arch, the Latin Quarter, the Pedestrian’s and Eire Square. It was my goal to try an oyster in Galway, home of what are called the best oysters in the world. Most pubs and restaurants have oysters, but I had hoped for something steamed or fried for my first time.

Instead we landed at the Quays pub where they served fresh, raw oysters on the half shell. I ordered one, and it came with Tabasco, horseradish, and lots of lemon. With a glass of Guinness for support, I loosened the little slimy squiggly thing with my fork, covered it with the stuff, and tipped up the shell. I had no desire to actually taste it, much less try to chew it!. What a surprise! It slid down so fast there was no taste at all really, except for the incredibly delightful fresh smell of the sea beforehand. Once it was down I looked at Mo in shock wondering…what is the big deal either way?? It happens so fast and there isn’t any real taste either. So I have yet to see the lure of raw oysters, but maybe someone who loves them can tell me why they are so wonderful. And yes, I will have to ask MBZ from Texas who swoons over Galway oysters, if she chews or what.

After the little appetizer, we had fresh haddock fish and chips that was perfect. Lightly breaded the way we love instead of that greasy beer batter stuff, it was the freshest sweetest white fish I can remember eating. Served with a tasty salad of cole slaw and cucumbers and a whole dish of tartar sauce, we both managed to eat the entire portion and most of the wonderful chips (fat french fries) that are so prominent here in Ireland.

After dinner we found the historic Spanish Arch, the obligatory swans on the river, just two of them when we arrived, and the busy life on the pedestrians where folks were laughing and eating and walking and pubbing. Checking out a few of the pubs was fun, but after awhile they all begin to look the same. They are lovely, though, with many small rooms and “snugs” and incredibly dark wood everywhere. Most of the pubs we have been in have several bars on different levels and pretty cool art work. I just can’t imagine all that drinking being the focus of life, which it definitely is in Ireland. Probably not just the drinking, but all that laughing and singing and socializing must be a big part of the draw. At 7 in the evening however, the party atmosphere hadn’t really begun in earnest, and my batteries suddenly ran out completely as we headed back to the hotel.

My mind is filled with the day, the cliffs, the rocks, the green fields and sheep, the sea. Somehow the pubs take second place to all that, but I am still glad we found fabulous fish and that I finally ate an oyster.

Next: Another magnificent day at Connemara National Park and Kylemore Abbey

09-29-2015 Killarney to Bunratty Castle to Galway

Ireland Day 9 Killarney to Galway

whewwwwwww……..I was trying to sleep, and realized that there was no way I would manage it till I sat down and wrote a bit about the last couple of days. Melody, Deborah, Deanna, you keep me encouraged to keep it written when I might just give up in exhaustion. Thanks, really for that.

(Writing on the evening of the 30th). The last two days have been as different as day and night. Yesterday seemed long and dull, with my love affair with Ireland sorely tested by AFC oh…excuse me ABC. Another bloody castle. In Eastern Europe, Melody and I learned that a castle wasn’t really a house, it was more like a community fortress. Well, here in Ireland, I have learned that a castle is more likely to be a house, a fortress for one family. Most often in the form of a tower, and they are everywhere! Often in ruins, but also in full fledged Disney mode, with Medieval Banquets and tours of the winding steps and stories of the murder holes.

The steps are narrow and the entry doors are tiny so that only one person can enter at a time. They wind upwards in a corkscrew to the left so that right handed men who attempted to go up the stairs couldn’t manage to wield their swords. They have dungeons, with stairs leading downward with the last step being a good 40 feet or so. Your bones break with the drop and you lie there and die. If you are attempting to raid the castle, and manage to get up the stairs, there is a place where the floor falls out from under you and you crash to the bottom, easy prey for boiling oil, or even worse, hot sand and rocks. gee, sounds fun. 01 Killarney to Bunratty (1 of 1)-63

The first time we heard these stories at the Blarney Castle they were interesting, but the second time around at Bunratty Castle, it all seemed a bit tired. Maybe it has something to do with me being more than a bit tired yesterday as we visited Bunratty Castle around midday and the Bunratty folk life village.

Morning dawned in Killarney yesterday with dull clouds and a dreary feel to the day. The high point of the day actually came early in the morning immediately after we left when the bus driver took us on an impossibly narrow road to a high point overlooking Killarney National Park that was once a Druid site, and then a Christian site, and now just a beautiful site overlooking Killarney Lake and the Killarney mountains across the valley.

Once we left the beautiful area of County Kerry and Killarney, we spent the rest of the day on the Irish version of a freeway, except for a dip into the little village of Adare. 01 Killarney to Bunratty (1 of 1)-21 One of the iconic images of Ireland has always been the charming little thatched cottages, but I had no idea what was actually involved in creating and maintaining a thatched roof.

As Isabel said, only the well-to-do can afford such a luxury, with the maintenance requiring up to 60,000 Euros every five years or so from very specialized craftsmen, who are in short supply. Walking the charming town was interesting, and while the thatched roof cottages only date from the recent early 1800’s, they were fascinating. All through the town were lovely gardens and charming cottages.

The story of the burning of some of these historic cottages just last summer was a sad one, with no real date as to when they can be replaced. An old pigeon cove was in back of the visitor center, another very old historic structure.

We continued northwest toward Bunratty, which didn’t appear to be any kind of town anywhere near the castle attraction. The “authentic” folk village was charming and interesting in some respects, with thatched roof cottages, but more importantly, for the first time we smelled burning peat. Traditionally the major heating source for much of Ireland, the peat blocks were stacked like firewood ready for winter.

We did enjoy the castle tour in spite of the Disney feeling. It was nice seeing the local school kids who emerged from their tour just as we approached for ours.

Isabella had figured out by this time that I was into rocks and geology and she was careful to point out the fossils embedded in the 600 year old slate floors. Once again, tucked away in a corner was another Sheela Na Gig bas relief. The furnishings and tapestries reminded me of you Deborah, and all your love of fine tapestries. It is amazing to me that these incredibly intricate thread paintings can last so long and still be so beautiful. The thing about a tour that can get really tiresome is the timing. The day before, when we wanted to spend a lot of time at some place or the other, we were allotted 20 minutes. Today, at Bunratty Castle, when our tour was completed, where there wasn’t a thing to look at except another huge WalMart of Ireland Blarney Woolen Mills, and an old bridge in the midst of reconstruction, we were allotted three very long hours. I did finally figure out that it might have something to do with check in time in Galway, and the city was just another hour or so north of the Bunratty stop. Mo and I managed to while away the time with a Southwick Amber Ale, another quite tasty beer that was similar to my favorite Alaskan Amber.

The pub on the corner across the street from the castle was called Dirty Nellie’s, and it claimed to have been in existence since 1600 something. It was a pub for the officers who guarded the castle, so seemed authentic enough, and the smoked salmon and brie panini I had for lunch was excellent.

01 Killarney to Bunratty (1 of 1)-74 By the time we reached the busy city of Galway, with 77K residents and traffic, we were both so dang tired we couldn’t stand the thought of doing one more thing. Isabella gave us all sorts of instructions for where to find a pub, which pubs were the good ones, where to shop, where to eat. Really, Isabella?? Although I have to admit, there are a few travelers with us who are shopping wonders, coming back to the bus with bags and bags of stuff and always wanting to find more.

Especially good at the shopping thing is this couple from who knows where, but the woman is Greek and has rocks on all her fingers that are blinding, a laugh you can hear anywhere, and a very fun and friendly and ohgodkeepmeawayfromher kind of personality. Her husband is even louder, and he is the one that always has the Irish Whiskey in his water bottle all day, has made good friends with Isabella who ambles to the back of the bus for a nip now and then, and loves to pull out his wallet to indulge his wife. They spent a few thousand dollars at the Waterford Crystal shop. Actually, before the tour was over, I found myself really appreciating this sweet couple who were celebrating 30 years of marriage with this tour of Ireland.

They have gathered an entourage of party folks who like to bask in their kind of light and drink and shop as much as they do. I heard that at the medieval banquet last night (which we were grateful was an optional excursion so we could skip it), they were the ones chosen and crowned King and Queen for the evening.

When we first arrived at the Harbour Hotel Yesterday afternoon, we looked at each other in dismay. The hotel facade looked like some sort of industrial building, and the view to the east was of a giant stone wall. Once inside, however, everything seemed quite pleasant, and the hotel was very nice.

I can’t believe that I didn’t even take a photo of our room, but with one bed instead of our three this photos is a pretty good rendition.

Mo and I were gratefully on the same page with each other, and at the same moment. We needed down time! After checking into our room, with a nice window that opened, and another huge bathtub, we had jammies on within minutes and were settled in for the evening. We were both perfectly willing to crash with no supper, but room service was available so we ordered a salad and a sandwich and a glass of wine. No shopping, no pubbing, no walking, and finally some sleep in a comfortable bed with nice duvets and decent pillows. The bed situation is funny. We have had everything from one queen bed, to a queen and a twin, and this time three twin beds in a row. Always nice to have a bed to throw stuff on. Sleep was long and sweet, and neither of us felt the slightest twinge at missing explorations of City Galway.

More photos from this day are linked here

Next: Another high point of the trip, The Burren and the Cliffs of Moher.

09-28-2015 The Ring of Kerry

Ireland Day 8 The Ring of Kerry

I am going to be incredibly challenged today to make an attempt for this writing to be even close to adequate to describe our day with no accompanying photos. (Once again, emails had no photos, but now you get them with the blog). I guess it will suffice to say that The Ring of Kerry rivals, and in our opinion even surpasses our beloved Oregon Coast, and even the iconic Highway 1 to Big Sur. The Ring of Kerry (1 of 1)-54

I think the biggest difference is the ability to actually see the ocean and all the islands and coastline from the sometimes high and always very winding and narrow road. Riding in a big tour bus wasn’t the least bit troublesome, but I wouldn’t have wanted to be someone in those little cars fighting for space on the road with those busses. And yes, busses! Lots of them.

Tourism is huge in Ireland, and especially so in this magnificent landscape. Joanne, (my friend who is babysitting Mattie and traveled in Ireland with her husband driving the car)you will be happy to know that they have widened and improved the road a bit, so we decided that it wouldn’t be that difficult to drive, even with the left thing.

It is actually the morning of Day 9 as I write this, and after smashing all our stuff back into the suitcases and putting them outside the door, I have about an hour to try to finish what I had no time to write yesterday.

It started early, with another Irish breakfast (Gak…so glad I like Muesli and yogurt) and on the bus early to fresh strong breezes and beautiful shifting skies. Within a few minutes of leaving the hotel, we stopped at the Moriarity shop at the foot of the Dunloe Gap, made even more dramatic by the flying clouds in all shades of gray and white against the blue skies. We commented yesterday that we haven’t experienced anything even close to air pollution so far anywhere in this country, even Dublin. The air has been perfectly clean and fresh and gorgeous everywhere we go.

The shop fit right in with the elegant and expensive vibe of Killarney, with luscious Donegal tweeds, Irish linen, soft woven plaid throws, and anything your heart could desire from Ireland on the higher end of good stuff, opposed to the kitchy stuff in the souvenir shops that are everywhere.

Again, hard to explain the moment, but the wild air and shifting skies, shadows on the granitic mountains of Killarney to the south, the sound of Irish music lifted me to a place of happiness that was much like what I felt last winter hiking in Joshua Tree. It is a wonderful feeling that I don’t remember from my younger days, a deep unreasonable happiness that is so in the moment and so not related to anything going on in my head. I do love that feeling and treasure it when it comes so surprisingly.

Once we left the shop, after a few more miles we stopped at The Red Fox, a classic pub with another view of the mountains, where Irish Coffee and Baileys were served at ten in the morning. It had a great feeling to it, with a couple of hundred years of history behind it to help offset the hordes of tourists and the gaggle of tourist busses parked outside. I loved it.

Sad to say, Mo is dealing with a throat thing, so I hope that the hot Irish coffee might have helped it feel better. With only half an hour to absorb the vibe, we were again on our way following the north to south route around the Ring. And yes, in spite of the gorgeous scenery, and excellent stops, this day felt like a tour, a rushed tour, where it was impossible to see the entire thing without feeling as though there was no time to linger and really enjoy it. Ring of Kerry is a destination for sure, with at least a week to two to hike, kayak the lakes, walk the coastline, enjoy the towns, drink in the pubs, and languish in beautiful and very expensive bed and breakfast establishments.

Before long the expanse of Dingle Bay stretched out before us, with several stops along the way for photos. Thank goodness we weren’t relegated to moving shots through the reflections of the bus window glass. Another stop at a craft shop specializing in woolens included a wonderful performance put on by the sheepherder Brendan Ferris and his prize winning sheep dogs. I heard comments from folks who had seen similar shows throughout Scotland that weren’t nearly as wonderful. These dogs are not only well trained sheep dogs, but are agility champions in the UK and Ireland. We were introduced to several breeds of sheep, with their wool and meat used for different purposes, and I was tickled to see how well those sheep were trained too.

Watching the dogs work the sheep on the backlit hillside had a strange effect on me, one repeated throughout the day. I cried. Big silly tears and that stinging feeling behind the eyes. Ireland seems to affect me on an emotional level that is completely ridiculous, and completely without explanation. It is a nice feeling, a welling of emotion, triggered by a shepherd calling his sheep, an Irish jig, blooming heather, and most of all the wind off the Atlantic Ocean. I had no idea I would respond this way to Ireland, thinking it was just another nice destination for us. No clue. Still don’t get it all the way, but whatever the source, it is delightfully fun for someone like me who enjoys feeling things a lot.

Continuing along the coastline, with photo stops at the high points overlooking the ocean, we came to the town of Waterville, much like the coastal beach towns along our own coast, if a bit more charming in the warm afternoon sunlight. We are entering the world of famously good Irish seafood, with lobster, oysters, clams, crab and all sorts of fish the highlight of the menu. Another reason you would love to visit County Kerry, Killarney, and The Ring of Kerry, Deborah.

The fish and chips fragrance wafting from the small town was so enticing, but Isabella had something a bit more special in store for us. Down the road, at the most famous high point of the Ring drive Scarriff Inn Vista Bar and Restaurant overlooks the sea in all directions.

It was what is referred to here as a “self service”, but this one was really nice. They specialized in traditional Irish food, with Irish Stew with excellent lamb, and Shepherd’s Pie being the main items on the list.

We opted for the Shepherd’s Pie, a good ground beef stew topped with mashed potatoes and cheese and topped off under the grill, served with two excellent side salads, the wonderful crusty rolls that we are seeking out whenever we can find them, and a glass of red. Lunch was accompanied by tables along the window with the warm sun lighting up the beautiful dining room, and views to forever across the Atlantic and the coast in both directions. The food was fabulous, the view was perfect, it was an excellent place to enjoy the Ring of Kerry.

Afterward we continued south, with expansive views of ancient Celtic forts, sheep on the hills, brilliant reflections on the ocean, green green grass, and finally to the small colorful village of Sneem. With only a short stop, we still had time to walk to the river, eat a homemade ice cream cone, and find a geotour shop on the square that seduced me with rock samples, geology walk brochures, and yes, a big fat book of Irish geology. I am in heaven, my favorite kind of tour book, so worth the euros and the weight.

Mo and I both loved Waterville and Sneem, and decided that we could easily spend two weeks to a month here right on the Ring of Kerry, staying at a B&B in Sneem, and there are plenty to chose from. Sneem has weekly geology walks, gorgeous wildflowers, beautiful hikes in the hills and along the coast, great food, a wonderful small village feeling that was so enticing.

By late afternoon we were descending through the Molls Gap and down the winding mountain roads past the gorgeous lakes of Killarney National Park into the town of Killarney. Isabella was so proud of her plan to drop all of us off in town for more shopping before the bus returned to the hotel, a few miles from the town center. Several of us rebelled, shopping being low on our list after a long day riding, and Mo and I saw just enough of Killarney to find an ATM and a taxi stand. The trip back to the hotel was 12 Euro, but worth every penny since it gave us two full hours before we had to be ready to catch the bus back to town for our evening entertainment. The Ring of Kerry (1 of 1)-83

Most folks on this tour are paying for the tour organized and sponsored Castle Dinners with Irish Entertainment, very expensive, and often with preset food that isn’t all that great. We have skipped those in favor of the scenic tours that we couldn’t see any other way.

Yesterday, however, our bus driver and Isabella suggested a special show in town called Celtic Steps, and with free transportation and only 27.50 Euro for the show, we thought it would be a good choice. Good choice is an understatement! The show with lilting Irish music, bodhran drumming, Irish violin, and a young woman with a beautiful voice singing haunting songs in Gaelic was incredible. And yeah, I cried. I cried when she sang, I cried when the step dancers tore up the stage, I cried when the two men did that competition drumming thing with the bodhrans. Go figure. As I said, Ireland makes me cry.

Celtic Steps was like a mini Riverdance, with less than a dozen people, but they were so incredibly good, such fabulous musicians and entertainers, full of stories and songs and fabulous dancing. We got home by 11, and fell into bed exhausted, but still had trouble falling asleep after all the energy of the music and the breathtaking beauty of the day. I have managed to get this finished in time to go catch the bus this morning. Whew! We will be heading north toward Galway today, with a stop at Bunratty Castle..ABC…”Another Bloody Castle” where there is a small authentic folk village with demonstrations of early Irish life.

I do hope I have some energy left to actually explore Galway a bit this evening and find some of that great seafood.

I just realized that in all the excitement about seeing the Ring of Kerry, I forgot entirely that I started my day at 2:30 AM, setting the alarm to wake me in time to see the total lunar eclipse of the Supermoon. The skies were crystal clear, with brilliant stars and no clouds anywhere. Even though there was some ambient light from the hotel, I still managed to set up my little travel tripod on the picnic table to watch and try to photograph the beautiful moon.

It was just a little bit chilly, but the winds smelled wonderful, and the only sounds were the leaves around me rustling as I watched the moon turn from brilliant to just a sliver and then to a dusky red orange. Great way to start the day, and I even got a couple of hours of sleep after going back to bed.

Next up: Bunratty Castle and Galway….my least favorite day of the trip

09-27-2015 Cobh, Blarney Castle, and Killarney National Park

Ireland Day 7 Waterton to Cobh to Blarney Castle to Killarney National Park

Killarney National Park

The letter I write tonight just might end up truncated to Yeah, we did this, we did that, now we are going to bed. My brain is completely fried and crazy. We just had dinner with the 31 people we don’t know from Adam who are in our traveling bunch. For some reason, on this tour, there are only 9 men, and 3 of them seem to be really enjoying their status as big dogs in the pack because they are so incredibly loud and raucous and obnoxious that you can’t hear yourself, much less anyone else. Dinner was ok enough, but in an enclosed banquet room with the most awful acoustics I think I have ever experienced. Trial by noise. GAK! Port of Cobh (25 of 27)

In spite of that first paragraph, today was excellent, with another day of gorgeous weather as we traveled south toward the Celtic Sea and the town of Cobh (pronounced Cove because there is no V in the Celtic alphabet). Called Queenstown for a time under English rule, it was restored to Cove aka Cobh when the English at last turned over the Republic of Ireland to its rightful people.

Site of the last port of the Titanic before it sunk, and just a few miles from the site of the sinking of the Lusitania, there was an excellent museum, and a great storyteller who regaled us with tales of the Irish emigrants. Most interesting moment of the day was when we stood in the building that was no doubt the one where my ancestors embarked for the United States from Ireland. Kinda cool.

I knew that we were going to see the Titanic Museum in Belfast, so thought that maybe this small museum would be less interesting. (Not so, as I later found out). The Cobh Heritage Center in the small port town was focused on the emigrants who left Ireland from this port, more so than those who sailed from here as their last port of call before the great Titanic went down.

During the storyteller’s presentation, he had each of us take a ticket, representing one of the passengers who emigrated from this port. Mo drew Annie Moore, who at 15 years of age was the first immigrant to be processed at the newly opened Ellis Island in New York in 1892.

After a coffee Mo and I decided that we needed to walk around a bit and decided to climb the steps to the church high above us on the bluff. We found the statue of Annie Moore, and then hiked to the top of the bluff to enjoy the view. Cobh looked like it might be an interesting place to explore.

This part of Ireland reminds me a lot of Seattle, more overgrown and treed, thick and lush with vegetation, and more green, but the kind that makes me claustrophobic. At times today as we drove along the coast toward the town of Cork, the ivy covered stone walls were not even a foot from the glass in the bus window.

Driving through the green countryside, along the coastal route between Cobh and Cork was lovely. As we passed through Killorglin, we learned about the King of all Irish Festivals, the Puck Fair. Considered one of the oldest festivals in Ireland, a wild mountain goat is crowned King and reigns over the town for three days.

Port of Cobh to Cork (5 of 10) Every year a goat catcher goes up into the mountains to catch a wild goat. The goat is brought back to the town and the “Queen of Puck”, traditionally a young school girl from one of the local primary schools, crowns the goat “King Puck“.On August 10th, The “King” is then paraded through the town before being elevated onto a high stand in the town square for three days. On the 3rd day of the fair, he is brought down to be led back to his mountain home. In the middle of the town square, he is crowned which signifies that the festivities may begin. It sounded like a lot of fun, something to enjoy in an Irish summer if you could handle the crowds and the craziness.

We continued through Cork, a fairly large city along the river Lee. As our bus negotiated the crowded streets, Isabella introduced us to the tradition of the Stag Do, or the Irish version of the bachelor party. It seems that often the men must dress according to the wishes of the bride, and often she has them wearing women’s dress. Of course, we passed several large groups of men dressed this way carousing on the streets (it was early in the day!) and Isabella said they were definitely doing the Stag Do thing.

There is so much to see in Ireland, and as we passed through the towns and cities, I realized how impossible it is to see a country in just two weeks. Mo and I laughed about how in the world someone would see the US in such a short time. What would you choose to focus on anyway?! I tried to imagine that I had someone coming from another country who had never seen the US. What would I want to show them? And how many amazing parts of the country would have to be skipped over to get to the chosen parts?

Of course, being tourists on a tour of Ireland, it was imperative that we stop at Blarney Castle. Before climbing the castle, we had lunch at the huge and incredibly busy cafeteria at the Blarney Woolen Mills, a treasure trove of Waterford Crystal, Aran woolens, Irish Linen, and Irish spirits. With no time to shop and no space in the suitcase, I was spared any indulgence.

We then had to make the decision whether or not to climb the 123 tiny worn stone steps to kiss the Blarney Stone. Yeah, lots of advice to absolutely never actually kiss the dirty thing, but after climbing all those steps, worthwhile just for the views and the fun of it, I wasn’t about to miss taking my turn at hanging upside down and touching my lips to the very smooth rock. Clean and dry by the way, not the least bit icky.

Blarney Castle and the Stone (17 of 32) Seems as though until a few decades ago, there were no protective rails and to kiss the stone you had to literally hang over the hole as someone held your heels and your life was very much in danger. Not so any more, but climbing those steps in that tiny space was definitely a bit challenging. Down was worse for me, because the ups had a great thick strong rope to hold and there were a ton of people holding up the line so it moved very slowly. We had a couple of sweet young boys with gorgeous legs and butts in front of us, who were also quite talkative and fun to be around to keep us entertained on the trip up. Blarney Castle and the Stone (16 of 32)

In order to actually kiss the stone, you must climb the steps with the crowds, and que in line waiting your turn. It happens quickly, especially with everyone watching. There is a pad on the rock so you can get down there and a couple of strong guys to help you bend over backwards and then get back up. Blarney Castle and the Stone (21 of 32) It is funny watching everyone our age trying to get back up, until it is time for you to do it! I got down, kissed the stone, and tried not to make a fool of myself as I got back up and out of the way for the next person. Mo climbed the steps, but decided to skip the kissing part. Blarney Castle and the Stone (22 of 32)

Once back down from the castle, we explored the beautiful gardens. They were lush and beautiful, filled with all the plants so familiar to the Pacific Northwest, this time reminding me even more of the gardens in Vancouver and Victoria with huge gunnera plants that I love, potato vine that grew wild at Mo’s place on the California coast, in full bloom, roses, ivy, ferns, red hot pokers in full bloom. It all seemed so familiar. Blarney Castle and the Stone (18 of 32)

I tried to get a couple of selfies of the waterfalls and the gunnera plants, and wasn’t all that successful, but you get the idea. Blarney Castle and the Stone (31 of 32)

Once we left Blarney, we continued west toward County Kerry and the town of Killarney and Killarney National Park. The park has 28,000 acres of gorgeous trails, “mountains” ( all of 3,000 feet high at the most), one large and several small lakes, and the finest tourist and “holiday” town you could want. Isabella had arranged an extra little activity for us, and even though it was after five when we arrived, there were a group of “Jaunty Cars” waiting to take us all around the national park where cars aren’t allowed. No one had a clue what a jaunty car was until we actually arrived and saw the horses and carriages waiting. Killarney National Park (9 of 37) Killarney National Park (7 of 37)

Killarney National Park (14 of 37) The landscape here is quite a bit different than the parts of Ireland we have seen so far, with low mountains, more evergreens on the slopes, winding roads and canyons and lots more rock, mostly volcanic rock from what I can gather, old volcanic rock with no sign really of tectonic or volcanic stuff going on any time recently. Meaning in the last few million years or so.

Killarney National Park (11 of 37) The trails through the park were charming and Ross Castle looked incredibly romantic on the small peninsula jutting out into the lake.

It was all quite lovely actually, if incredibly touristy. In fact our entire day was completely designed for being a tourist, from being at the wharf in Cobh where the cruise ships land, to Blarney Castle where all the tourists in the world are sucked into the myth, to the high end ritzy park that is another magnet for tourists. Ah well, so be it. We are tourists, and today was a Tourist Day in capital letters. Killarney National Park (26 of 37)

This is the kind of day where photos are the only way to do it justice, so you will just have to wait for them, I guess. (No photos in these original emails I sent to the daughters, but at last photos are processed and ready to add to the story). Killarney National Park (35 of 37)

Dinner is over and I am going to fall into bed, but I have a supermoon to catch, and hopefully an eclipse over that supermoon to photograph, or at least attempt it. I have the alarm set for 2 am, and it is now ten. I am going straight to bed as of this moment!

The SmugMug photos for this day are linked here.

Next: the 120 mile trip around the famous Ring of Kerry, Ireland’s answer to Highway 1 and Big Sur on the California Coast.