I always think of that line from O Brother, Where Art Thou? when I get to the end of something.
Thursday and Friday of last week were spent doing laundry, tidying house, and trying to figure out how we were going to get everything into our cases to bring home before heading for Dublin. We called Barry, who was our go-to guy for a number of things while in Ireland, to see if we could take him for dinner. Barry picked us up and off we went to Collins’ – one of Frank and Maureen’s faves in Adare. The atmosphere and food was great and we had a really good visit with Barry. Having done a good deal of our preparation Thursday, and finishing up Friday morning, we had time to scoot into Adare Friday afternoon for a quick game at the pitch and Putt golf course there. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a green on the back nine that you can actually land a ball on and stick it without being a pro, but we had fun anyway. Even managed to tee off over the tree on hole #12 (I think) and get somewhere in the neighbourhood of the green. I had to use my Mom skills a couple of times on some kids that came onto the course sometime after us and were whacking balls all over the place without any regard to who might be standing in front of them. For the record, my Mom skills are synonymous with lack of patience… All in all, it was a great time! Getting back home, we settled in for our last night. Saturday morning, we said goodbye to our home in Croom and Barry delivered us into Limerick to catch the bus to Dublin. You’ve already read about our adventures in Wicklow and Dublin. We will miss stone walls, little stone buildings, castle ruins around every curve, and maybe (just maybe) even the little narrow roads that lead to some new story of ancient wonder. In contrast to the painful 27-hour journey to Ireland, the journey home was effortless. Our 9-hour direct flight left on time and arrived a bit early. Laden with luggage, we decided to taxi to the Horseshoe Bay ferry, where we arrived to catch the 2:15 ferry home for the last leg of our journey. Frank and Maureen came to pick us up and bring us home where Maureen had dinner ready. We had an energetic talk about our adventures in Ireland and their adventures here. Peter retired to bed early and Frank and Maureen and I went for a lengthy walk. I took them down the road to see the amazing fence panels that wood artist Mike has used to create unique wildlife scenes. Then we walked a nearby trail to the golf course and back, finishing our evening with a drink and more visiting on our deck. The next morning, we all went to Roberts Creek to have breakfast at The Gumboot Café and Peter took Frank and Maureen to a couple of last-minutes sites before taking them to the ferry while I headed back to the house for work. I think they were as sad to leave here as we were to leave Ireland – just feeling “not quite done”. We didn't cover Ireland in quite the way the maps below show, but not too far off. All in all, we saw a darn good deal of it. What an adventure. What a privilege. So grateful to have met Frank and Maureen and their family, who now feel like ours. Sláinte, everyone. Good night and joy be to you all.
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We had Saturday evening and Monday to spend trucking around Dublin. When we arrived on Saturday, the city was buzzing with activity. There were FIVE major events going on in Dublin this weekend – Taylor Swift on tour, the Gaelic Football quarter finals, Shania Twain on tour, Pride weekend, and an annual music festival. The bus brought us into the airport and we thought the taxi driver was going to weep when he picked us up at the airport and we said we were going downtown. He certainly hung his head in resignation. He was stalwart though, and not only took us to our hotel, but told jokes and stories along the way. Irish through and through.
We checked into the StayCity Aparthotel, which had a lovely room with a micro-kitchen and all that was needed to be comfy for a couple of days. We could have made our own dinner – dishes and everything. Let me be clear -we didn’t – but we could have. We decided we would just find an early dinner and then find the Molly Malone statue where we were supposed to meet our tour guide the next morning for the Wicklow Mountains. The Lombard Pub down the road served a mean Irish stew and we left ready to tramp some cobblestones. We did find the Molly Malone statue and wandered around enjoying the sights, the amazing architecture in the buildings, and the energetic characters bouncing around the city on their various missions. Heading back to the hotel, we made a reasonably early night of it. Wicklow finished on the Sunday, there was one day left to explore Dublin. We went for breakfast at Bread 41 again and then headed across the Liffey to Bag City. Yes, I hang my head in shame. Having said I was going to try hard to come home with just pictures, I managed to accumulate enough extras to need another small bag to get stuff home. Then Peter and I parted ways. Having slept poorly the night before, I planned only to hit the Irish Family History Centre and then find my way back to the hotel to re-pack and prepare all the customs stuff. The Family History Centre is where you can talk with someone who can help you find your heritage and either get started with genealogy or help you fill in gaps. I was just curious about it and knew you had to have an appointment, but I found it interesting to stop in and have that confirmed. I know a cousin has done a lot of genealogy on the Irish side of the family and it would be smart to take a look at that to see if there even are any gaps in her work. She was at it a long time and there may not be any. I left the centre and wandered around Dublin for a couple of hours stopping at interesting monuments, reading stories and taking photos. The famine statues and story made me cry. Again. It was such a desperate time in Irish history. Milllions emigrated. Many died on the way or soon after arrival. The ships they were transported on were named coffin ships for a reason – deplorable conditions. What I didn’t know, is that there is a 165 km trek from Strokestown, County Roscommon, to the Dublin Docks. This trek follows the footsteps of 1,490 tenants from the Mahon Estate that walked to the Dublin Docks to emigrate to Canada. One third of them never made it. Along the way, there are bronze shoes that tell a story. The statues are heartbreaking and the one of a father carrying the body of his fallen child on his shoulders undid me completely and I felt an overwhelming desire to see my own babies. Aside from the Dublin Portal spire and statues of the historical figures who were key to Ireland’s independence, I found two other interesting monuments. One was a large cross seemingly in the middle of nowhere in the street. This was a monument to a constable Patrick Sheahan who died trying to save John Fleming, who had descended into the sewer to do a job and was overcome by sewer gas The monument also honours the citizens that tried to help. Just common people, being human beings. The other monument I found interesting was the “Steine” marker. The river Liffey’s banks had once come as far into Dublin as this marker. This was a landing place in the time of the Vikings and the Steine - or Long Stone – was a marker that indicated the landing place. There are two faces on the stone commemorating Ivor, the Viking king that ruled Dublin in the 9th century, and Mary de Hogges’ convent. It also marks the spot where tons of motorcycles are parked, assuming the risk of having a bike stolen may be reduced because it is right in front of the Garda station. Peter had a much more ambitious plan for the day. He visited the art gallery, which was featuring a women’s impressionist exhibition. Other famous art also in situ fascinated him, as art is close to his heart. Along the way, he found an Oscar Wilde sculpture and a statue of a women atop a stone pillar carved with quotes. Another of the sculptures he saw may also have been related to the famine but did not find the marker explaining it. Along his route, he also found a pyramid monument with soldiers and an eternal flame inside commemorating the defence forces of Ireland. Peter’s next stop was the Archaeology Museum, which had many artefacts from other sites we had visited, including from the Corlea Trackway, Loughcrew Cairns, and the Caherconnell Ring Fort. All fascinating stuff, but I didn’t think I had really missed anything as most of what he had seen was also shows in the Hunt Museum. The exception were the “bog men” found desiccated, but remarkably preserved. So much that they were able to do re-creations of what they looked like. I had seen them when we were in Dublin before, and it is quite amazing how they were preserved in the peat bogs. I would have found it fascinating too, but to really appreciate these museums properly, it almost has to be the only thing I do in a day. On the way back he found the remaining portion of the Dublin city wall from the Anglo-Norman invasion days. Peter’s last stop, of course was the Brazen Head (Dublin’s oldest pub), for a pint before heading back to the hotel to meet me for dinner. The last time he was out at a Dublin pub by himself, I’d had to go get him. Apparently everyone grows up eventually, because he found his way back without my intervention. 😉 We splurged on a nice seafood restaurant in the Temple Bar district for our last night. Peter had some more snot in a shell (oysters) and apparently they were very good. I’ll have to take his word for it. We had the ceviche appetizer, which was served on Irish Tayto’s as advertised. Sounds weird, but it was really good. Entrees of monkfish for Peter and lobster for me, and my dessert of sticky toffee pudding finished off an excellent meal. Feeling we had done it right, we waddled back to our hotel. We were left feeling like we weren’t ready to go home – there was more to see and do. But it will have to wait for another journey. Sláinte, everyone. Good night and joy be to you all. It’s fair to say I’ve been negligent in writing stories the last few days. Truth is, we are home now and, along with the jet lag, it is challenging to be inspired when the adventure is over. Still, I must persist, as this is how we will remember what we did with our last few days in Ireland. So, for the moment, I will pretend we are still there.
The Wicklow Mountains and Glendalough being one of the few places that were on our “must-do” list, but with time running short, we decided spend the last couple of days in Dublin. We booked a room for 3 nights and a tour for the Wicklow Mountains. The remainder of our time, we would just bum around Dublin. We started our Saturday with a stop at Bread 41 – a coffee shop around the corner from the hotel with the best sausage rolls Peter has ever had and a cinnamon bun for me that was absolutely amazing. At 9:30 a.m. we boarded the Hilltop Treks bus with approximately 16 other people bound for the Wicklow Mountains. Our tour operator and driver Kevin took us through Dublin, pointing out sites and providing some history as he went. I think at least 30% of Kevin’s tales were designed to challenge our gullibility, so it was a fun trip and he was a very entertaining guide. Our first stop was Powerscourt House & Gardens, which was also on our list of to-dos. The house itself is kind of boring on the outside, but the gardens are amazing. Powerscourt Estate is 47 acres of gardens, featuring Italian gardens, a Japanese garden, statues, a pet cemetery, tons of species of trees, and trails that wander off here and there for new surprises. I have to admit that peace was a little hard to feel as it is one of Ireland’s top tourist attractions and the volume of people kind of took away from some of the experience for me. Having said that, it was stunning - amazing views of the Sugarloaf Mountain and gardens that made me marvel at the effort and knowledge that must go into keeping the staggering variety of plants healthy and thriving, which they clearly were. We had an hour and a half to wander the gardens, finding an old tower and cannon, and even a massage bench along the path! Peter had to give that a whirl and pronounced it effective. Even the leaden skies could not drain the beauty of the landscape. Making sure we were back at the meeting stop for the bus, Kevin drove us into Enniskerry for lunch. This picturesque little town is clearly tourist central and has little shops and places to eat. A large clock tower, built in 1843, stands sentry to the town. It has featured in a couple of movies, but I can’t recall which ones. Enniskerry often is a centre for film shoots that go on in the Wicklow Mountains. We had a sandwich with us and just grabbed a drink and sat on the park bench at the clock tower to have our lunch. The local crows knew the routine- some languages are international: people = food. We shared the odd bit of bread and wandered the little street taking a few photos until it was time to get back on our bus. For the next hour or so, we drove through the Wicklow Mountains. Despite being devoid of large trees, the mountains are nevertheless very beautiful – green and patchworky with stone bridges and the curvy road snaking through them. One of these bridges was used as the setting for the movie P.S. I Love You, which Kevin said he got into trouble for calling a “chick flick” on one of his tours. We stopped at this bridge and there is no question it is a beautiful setting. Our timing was good and we arrived a few minutes before the other tours to be able to wander a bit and take some photos. We made a couple more stops along the way, getting out at one of the Guinness daughters’ estates where you could see the Lough Tay (Guinness Lake) down in the valley. It is rumoured that special sand was brought in to put at the top of the deep brown lake to make it look like a pint of Guiness, but that may have been one of Kevin’s gullibility challenges. There is no question it was a stunning view of the valley. The last stop of the tour was at Glendalough. This was a monastic city established by a monk named Saint Kevin (whom our tour guide was quick to associate with). Saint Kevin was a hermit and spend much time meditating in the valley, living and praying there. There are many sites to visit along a variety of trails, including the monastic settlement, Saint Kevin’s cell, a waterfall and two lovely lakes. There are tons of birds and it would be amazing to explore again with more time and fewer people. Again, tours like us were rolling in and it was hard to capture the serenity of the surroundings as they were intended. Especially when they were annoying me by being in my pictures. I will have to go back so I can sit by the water, close my eyes and listen to the birds and the waves. Balm for the soul. Our way back to Dublin seemed to go swiftly and Kevin pointed out some more landmarks on the way, telling more stories, including a different take on the Giant’s Causeway formation, outside of its scientific explanation. We made our way to The Church for supper (one of Kevin’s recommendations) and it did not disappoint. I’m sure someone is rolling over in their grave at the bar and restaurant now going on in a massive church with memorials still on the walls. But it wasn’t us – we had our excellent dinner in tranquil delight. Then back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep! The second last day over. ☹ Wednesday of our last week. ☹ The first order of business was to return the Super Meteor 650 to Retroventures, whom I would recommend to anyone, any time. Much sadness in returning the bike as I didn’t get as much riding in as I had hoped, for one reason and another.
Popping back to the house to change out of my riding gear and make a road lunch, our next plan was to amble our way to Doolin, via Galway, where we would stay overnight before going to the Aran Islands the next day. We travelled north to Galway because Peter had seen Moran’s Oyster House on a couple of travel shows and was bent on having oysters. I figure if I wanted to eat snot, I’d pick my nose, but to each their own. So off we went. It’s only an hour or so, mostly along more major roads, so the restaurant wasn’t open yet when we got there. We walked along the estuary, taking photos and enjoying nice weather. Moran’s is an institution. It has been there forever and has been covered by multitudes of travel shows. Celebrity photos line the walls and the inside is quaint and full of stories. We sat outside and ordered our lunch, which was amazing and worth the wait. We took the long way around the peninsula to Doolin, which would take us along a part of The Burren we had not seen up close and personal. We stopped at Ballyvaughan to take a photo of the old pier and a bit further along the road, there was a memorial garden with the Irish Proclamation, so we stopped to read that as well. Noticing a sign for a trail and a bird hide, we decided to follow it, because why wouldn’t we?! There was a little wooden hut structure on the trail with Bug Hotel – Guests in Residence. Please Do Not Disturb written on it that tickled my fancy. We found the hide that could be used to birdwatch along the shore, though there were some tall grasses in front of it, so we weren’t sure how effective it would be. A bit further along the trail was a nice viewpoint to relax and enjoy the view. While the area was not that big, there were little trails all over it and I found the fairy trail, leading to a grove of trees where they have their banquets and ceremonial events. There wasn’t a party going on just then, so I carried on the trail, which emptied out at a public water font. We washed our hands and jumped back in the car to continue our toodling. Not long after, we entered The Burren. Peter was like a kid in a candy store with the geology of it and I have to admit, it is fascinating. We scrambled around on the rocks and the shore, taking photos of the vegetation, flowers, and ocean. It was very windy, but we took our time enjoying the slower pace before fetching up in Doolin for the night. We had booked a BnB to be close to Doolin for the early ferry the next day. McGann’s Pub just a quick walk up the road was recommended for supper, so we headed over, despite the growing wind and rain. As we approached, a piper came out of the pub and greeted a bride and groom! We went into the pub and found a seat and shortly after, the piper led the bride and groom, wedding party and guests through the pub and into the back room for their festivities. So cool! Like Moran’s Oyster House, McGann’s Pub is a local go-to place. Lined with interesting photos, badges from police forces and fire stations all over the world, and thingamabobs and whatchamacallits everywhere. Food was good and we headed back to our BnB satisfied with our lot. Sure enough, we got notification that our trip to Aran was cancelled - gale force 8 winds (50-70 kph) and rain blew in overnight, causing 4 meter swells out on the Atlantic. With zero hesitation to get something out of our trip over there, we took ourselves down to the seaside and walked out to the shore to watch the waves crash against the rocks. I love the fierce, wild, primeval feeling of the Atlantic Ocean – my lizard brain responds to the call with wild joy. The sea crashing against the shore sending sprays of water high into the sky. Having to brace yourself against the wind while it gives you a free sea salt facial. I could watch it all day. They don’t call it the Wild Atlantic Way for no reason. There are a million reasons to visit Ireland. This is one of them. After the visit to Mizen Head and Drombeg, I wanted to get the bike out for a ride as I had to return it the next day. So Peter headed to the Corlea Trackway, and I headed to the Ardmore Cliff Walk in the opposite direction. Peter made it. I didn’t. It began to rain shortly after I left the house – no big deal. But then the rain began to mean it and traffic started to get busy and stupid and it just didn’t feel good. So I turned around and rambled around the back roads, exploring the rural area for about 2.5 hours with my gopro camera running. I'd like to say I have footage for you, but frankly I don't have the patience for video editing and might as well sell that damn thing.
Peter did make it to the Corlea Trackway. I had found this online a day or two before and it sounded interesting. The Corlea Trackway is an Iron Age “togher” built around 148BC. Constructed mainly of oak, it was found perfectly preserved in the bog up in Longford County. According to the Heritage Ireland site, it is believed to be a very important route, it may have been a highway connecting the ritual centre of Ireland at the hill of Uisneach and the royal site of Rathcroghan. Eighteen meters of the trackway has been preserved and displayed in the visitor centre for us to marvel over. There is much speculation over why the roadway was built and it’s worth a visit to contemplate them and make your own decision. Clearly not being saturated with castles yet, Peter also visited Nenagh Castle. A crenellated tower remains, but the castle itself is pretty much in ruins. It was built around 1200 in the latter part of the Anglo-Norman invasion and served military, residential, and administrative purposes. It was burned out by Irish rebels in 1548 and bounced between hands before being abandoned after the Williamite wars. I arrived back home before noon and began to do laundry and clean house a bit. Barry – the son of our house-swap couple – stopped by to pick up some mail and I convinced him to stop for tea and help me eat the lemon tart left behind from the previous weekend’s moto women meet. He obliged me and we had a great visit before he carried on and I got back to my clear-up activities. It was a good day and I enjoyed the ride around the area very much, giving me time to relax and reflect. I can’t believe the time has gone by so fast! Only a couple of days remain and I still have stories to catch up on! Well, since we went to Ireland’s most northerly point, it seemed logical to go to Ireland’s most southerly point. It is also home to a signal station and a bridge over a very dramatic chasm. So, we packed a lunch and left in good time to head for Mizen Head, a 3-hr drive along rural roads (translation 4 hours). As we drove up and up, further into the clouds, I wondered if we would see anything at all when we got there.
The road took us through some beautiful countryside and for some time I was struck by the lack of animals. There were the recognizable signs of logging, but no sheep, no cattle, no bales, which made me wonder what they do with the land there. I still don’t know. As we travelled further south, it also became a Gaeltacht district, meaning the Irish language is the predominant language and English doesn’t appear on the signage or buildings. While people speak English with you if you start a conversation, the language you hear in the street and from the kids playing together is Irish. Eventually, we began to see the apparent free-range sheep all over the hillsides again. We arrived at Mizen Head just shy of noon. The visitor centre is full of information about the tides, the geology, and the history of the peninsula. We walked along the paths, following all the ones we found to the top of several viewpoints. Though the clouds were very low, my tongue-in-cheek facebook post about how it was completely fogged in was not the case. There were still some striking views to be seen. We reached the Mizen Head bridge across the chasm. Originally constructed in 1909, the original bridge was finally replaced with a new one in 2010, due to safety issues. Mizen Head was built in 1909 as a fog signal station to warn ships of the treacherous, rocky coastline. Walking the path across the bridge and over to the edge of the peninsula, I was fascinated with the tortured rock. Layers were vertical and horizontal and folded over in the same cliff face. It is hard to imagine the cataclysmic events that could create such dramatic structures. This was the location of the first radio beacon in Ireland and was home to one of Marconi’s stations. The old station house is a delightful surprise! Turned into a tourist centre, you can explore Marconi’s setup for signal transmissions. Further along in other buildings is a display of what would have been the lighthouse keeper’s living areas. There was also a series of remarkable paintings and displays of Ireland’s flora and fauna, accompanied by corresponding boards identifying the plants and animals found in the paintings. I could have spent a lot more time going through them, but it was getting busier with people, so we moved on. Heading back towards the visitor centre, we took a steep path down another rock face, hoping to see the sea arch at the bottom of the trail. Though shrouded in fog, there it was, along with a rocky beach scene and birds who seemed not to feel the windswept coastline as they perched on the edge of rocks, scanning the ocean for goodies. Mizen Head is a great place to see all kinds of birds and if you’re there at the right time, whales, seals, and a variety of other marine life. I wanted to see the Drombeg Stone Circle, so off we went towards Cork, the stone circle being more or less on the way. There are 17 stones in the Drombeg circle and it has been dated to somewhere between 153BC and 127AD. The locals call it the Druid’s Alter and excavation has found an urn with cremated remains in the centre of the circle. We were there just after solstice and the alter was strewn with flowers and offerings from ribbons to coins on the altar stone. As with other stone circles, this one has an entrance stone and altar stone and is aligned to be lit by the winter solstice. The view of the surrounding landscape is stunning. This site also boasts other prehistoric structures. A fulacht fiadh (cooking house) connected to a trough and a well. Enclosed by a low stone bank, this could be used for heating water and cooking food in it. Experiments demonstrated that 318 litres of water could be brought to boil in 18 minutes and would stay hot for 3 hours! Of course, it may also have been used to heat water for bathing, dying cloth, or brewing ale. The other structure is the remains of two conjoined huts, circular in shape and connected to the cooking hut. The ingenuity of these people was fascinating! We intended to visit Blarney Castle this day and perhaps the Jameson Whiskey Distillery, but that desire was swiftly quenched by the clog of traffic around Cork. For me, Blarney Castle was just another castle. The advertised attraction, of course, is to kiss the Blarney Stone and refill your gift of gab. Since I have that in spades already, I figured there was no need to make myself insufferable by kissing the stone. Not to mention, I had no wipes with me and the idea of kissing a stone kissed and touched by a million others....gross. So once we got through the perimeter traffic, we made a beeline for home. A long day (again), but so worth it (again). After the Hook Lighthouse and Irish Heritage Park, you would think we would be done with historical sites. WRONG! The next day it was off to The Burren. “Why?”, you ask in wonderment and curiosity?! Well, I won’t keep you in suspense. Read on, dear friend.
The Burren, taking its name from the Irish word boíreann (for rocky place), is 1800 hectares of post-glacial limestone terrain. It looks like an alien place – covered in rock as far as the eye can see. Yet tenacious nature forces its way through in the form of low-profile flowers, shrubs and woodland plants. Its landscape is known as “karst” – the limestone full of cracks, fissures, and formations that gladden the heart of any geologist. There are lots of trails to explore and sites to see, as this type of landscape lends itself to caves and sinkholes and was also used by our ancient folks again, being a ready source of seemingly endless rock for forts, fences, and buildings. Despite the harsh landscape, 70% of Ireland’s native plant species exist in The Burren, including some very delicate flora: 23 species of orchids and a rare sword-leaf hellebore. Our first stop was Caherconnell Ring Fort, constructed about 1000 AD. This is one of many, many sites over this area of Ireland where excavations have found these ring forts. Caherconnell is active and a prominent site for archaeological students to learn excavation skills. Our tour guide was Stephanie, a knowledgeable and enthusiastic fountain of information. Being an archaeologist on the site and having found her own artefacts, she was full of interesting stories and the current understandings of life in the times of these people. I always thought ring forts were defensive structures, but in the Bronze age, they were constructed almost as a homestead – small enclosures that would contain an extended family with a stone hut, a food cache, fire pit, small animal enclosure and smithy. The walls that we see today are only about half the height of the ring around the enclosure, with stones sunken or built as much as 3 metres deeper. So, the walls would have been much higher than the community and the structures inside the fort that we see are actually the tops of buried living areas. It was also the first time I had seen walls with the rocks stacked vertically rather than horizontally. Now I can’t decide which I want to do in my yard. A fascinating feature of the large ring fort was the presence of 2 graves – one of a woman and the other with 2 infants. DNA testing has proven that these were not members of the family that constructed the fort, but the fort was built over them and to enclose them. Status was a very big deal in the Bronze Age and status was connected to lineage. It could have been that the fort was constructed to indicate lineage, even though the graves were not those of family members. Along with the bones of cattle, sheep and goats, excavation of the ring fort has uncovered pottery, farm tools, textile and leatherwork tools, combs, and beads, and even a silver ring with a diamond on it, matching an engraving on other items in the fort. This may have been a family icon. The silver ring was discovered by a field student in 2015 – can you imagine how freaking exciting it would be to uncover something like that! These “luxury” items showed that these cultures were healthy and wealthy enough to have spare time on their hands and even traded with others. The discovery of a writing pen was very exciting – demonstrating a knowledge and use of writing tools within the 500+ years the fort was used. Smaller ring forts nearby may have belonged to other members of the family while the larger community would live in an open settlement beyond with more livestock and grazing lands. You can almost feel the people there, living their lives. It has an extraordinary energy in it. After Caherconnell, we went to the Poulnabrone Dolmen. Yes, we’ve seen dolmens before, but this one was massive! The story boards along the way were excellently written – informative, but in a story kind of way, making them easy to read and consume. The short story is that it is a portal tomb, built over 5,000 years ago, containing the remains of more than 30 people. It stands tall and huge - striking against the stark landscape of the karst. We walked the trail to the site and I noticed a site minder holding a litter picker. I asked if it was a cattle prod and he said he wished it was. And so began a lengthy and informative conversation with Joe. Not about the site, but about Ireland, the EU, the evolution of its economy, and how Ireland faces some of the same problems Canada does – housing crisis, bureaucracy, and corporate greed making it challenging for the normal folk to make a go of it. One more stop was necessary for this day. We made our way to the Aillwee Caves. While they are not the most dramatic caves in the Burren, or even Ireland, they were on our route and we stopped for the tour. The cave was discovered in 1940 by a local farmer who followed his dog into the cave. He never said much about it until the 1970s when he told some professional “cavers” about it, which resulted in it being explored fully and mapped. Dating suggests that the Aillwee Caves were formed before the Ice Age with water draining through vertical “grikes” in the limestone when the water would have flowed through, smoothing and eroding the rock, creating the cave. The melting of the ice would have continued to form the cave as a ready waterway. After the Ice Age, the continued dripping of calcium-rich water through the limestone created “straws” of calcite, which eventually develop into stalactites. Similarly, stalagmites formed with water pushing up from below and bubbling over, leaving calcite deposits on the ground, building up over time. I confess, I said in my head "stalactites are stuck tight to the ceiling and stalagmites might reach the ceiling" to remember which was which. The exploration of the cave discovered shallow hibernation pits and the bones of bears. It is believed that this might have been one of the last places the Irish brown bear existed. Interestingly, DNA on the bones shows that the Irish brown bear bred with polar bears that were moving along the retracting ice sheets. Irish bears are now extinct due to disappearing habitat. The cave tour guide delivered the story of the cave and its history capably and knowledgeably. We couldn’t help but notice the difference between her polished, well-rehearsed delivery and Stephanie’s avid interest, curiosity, and enthusiasm at Caherconnell Stone Fort. As Peter said: “We’ve both spent enough years delivering training to feel the difference”. Both were competent, but Stephanie was far more engaging, causing everyone in the group to “follow along with her”. In spite of all that activity, the day wrapped a bit earlier than expected and I got home in time to jump on the bike and go over to the Lahinch Promenade to meet up with a group of riders, while Peter stayed home and caught a great photo of the solstice moon. It was a long day, but so worthwhile to spend time exploring these natural and manmade wonders and meeting new people! You didn’t think Hook Lighthouse was the only thing we did that day, did you?! Oh no, dear. Oh no. It just deserved its own story. No rookies here. We carried on to the Irish National Heritage Park.
On over 40 acres of land, the park reconstructs the history of Ireland from prehistoric to Anglo-Norman conquest, engaging the participant with story boards, activities and tour guides. We did a self-guided tour and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The information below comes from the storyboards and sites about the village. The first people of Ireland date back to about 9,000 years ago in the Mesolithic age. These were hunter-gatherer people who fished, hunted birds and animals, and picked berries, nuts, fruit and seeds. Their tools were stone tools – blades, arrows and harpoons made from shards of stone. Their homes might have been basket-shaped or teepee-shaped, using reeds, thatch and earth. Excavation of discovered sites shows that they buried their dead close to their huts, marking them with a post. For 3000 years, they thrived in a nomadic lifestyle, following rivers and coastlines. With the arrival of the first farmers (Neolithic), many first people began to settle down and farm as well. Most of the wild animals now in Ireland were brought here (other than wild pigs). There was a significant bear and wolf population as well, but they have been hunted to extinction, the last wolf being killed 250 years ago. Even the native red deer was extinct. Elk were reintroduced to Ireland in later centuries. The village continues to a reconstructed Neolithic site. This “new stone age”, dates back to 6,000 years in Ireland, where stone tools were still used, but people had learned to farm rather than relying on hunting/gathering for subsistence. They brought cattle, sheep, pigs and goats, and planted crops. As the animals and crops found in Neolithic sites were not native to Ireland, they would have brought them when they arrived. Staying in one place meant they also learned to make pottery and build more permanent residences. They built more permanent residences with wood, wattle, and thatch, and established communities. The stone cairns and megalithic tombs containing the remains of families and carved stones are attributed to the Neolithic folks. As mentioned in previous blogs, we don’t know what happened to the Neolithic people. They just disappeared. Next came the Bronze Age, along with a new influx of people from elsewhere in eastern Europe (I’m not sure where, but perhaps the Basque region of Spain). This time period was the last influx of DNA to Ireland and represents the ancestry of the Irish people. By the time the Bronze Age rolled around, things must have been going pretty well, because art, status and ceremony became a thing. La Tene art emerged - the designs we call Celtic art – ornate, metal swords, shields, huge cauldrons, pottery, and clothing ornaments. Hoards of these items have been excavated from bogs. Burial styles changed as well. Rather than family tombs, people were buried in boxes with personal items. They began to build big hill forts, perhaps to define territory, which may have been the beginning of kingdoms in Ireland. The Bronze Age is when the stone circle business began as well. Excavations of the many stone circle sites around Ireland lead us to believe they may have been used for worship and/or local ceremonies. Ring forts emerged somewhere in there, representing the most important family in the community. A ring fort would have a home structure, a firepit, animal pens, tools and sometimes a dug-in food storage area. They were made of timber or stone, depending on how long ago they were created. Farmland and grazing land would surround them. Following the Bronze Age came the Early Christian period, where monks arrived as missionaries and created monasteries. Their stone structures are incredibly constructed. I know these are replicas, but the Hook Lighthouse showed us just how much they knew about making wood structures. That’s not all they were good at. Bread and beer began as well. The earliest breweries were thatched kilns where the grain was spread on screens or layers of screens to dry. The grain then separated from the chaffe. Coolio! Guess what’s next?! Vikings. These really weren’t very nice guys, but they ushered in the age of invasion. Vikings were a structured society and traded all over between bases in Europe. Evidence of their forts, usually behind timber palisades, and tools have been found and excavated to re-create their lifestyle. Last, but most impactful on the Irish people, of course, were the Anglo-Normans, invading in the 12th century and forever changing the landscape of Irish life, language, and culture. I probably don’t need to say more about that. Other cool things:
So concludes our sweep of Irish history. I have barely scratched the surface of this amazing display - you really should visit yourself! After cycling the greenway and touring the Copper Coast, we’d had an early evening, so we were off to the Hook Lighthouse in good time. Peter had the car and I followed a bit later with the bike. We arrived before opening and spent a half hour enjoying the view of the ocean and watching the fishing boat out in the sea. The Wendy Christine was out pulling lobster pots and it was a beautiful craft, obviously well-loved and cared for with its bright red paint. Peter spent a good deal of time getting some great photos of it.
The Hook Lighthouse was a highlight for us, so we were there the moment it opened. We had not been able to book the tour online, but a conversation with Jon assured us that we could have a guide take us through in a half hour or so. We had a great time talking with Jon about our trip in Ireland, all the places we had been and those we had yet to visit. Jon was pleased to hear we were from Canada and talked enthusiastically about what he would like to see in our country. I told him about travelling Canada by motorcycle and that took us off on another round of stories. Before you know it, the half-hour had disappeared and we were placed in the capable hands of Jane for our tour. With enthusiasm and proprietary pride, she shared her knowledge of the lighthouse and the area. She told us about the fishing industry in the area and how her grandfather refused to give it up, taking great pride in his boat and getting out every day with his brother to pull the lobster traps. Peter showed her the photos of the fishing boat he had seen out on the water earlier. Guess who? You got it in one - Jane's grandfather and great-uncle out on their boat, the Wendy Christine - named for Jane's mom and aunt! The Hook Lighthouse has a long and fascinating history. It’s original history is somewhat overshadowed by its William Marshall history, so I’m going to start with the first story. In the 5th century, some missionary monks settled on the peninsula and built a monastery. Living so close to the sea, they noticed how many ships wrecked against this shoreline. They built a raised area where they kept a massive fire burning to provide some warning to ships of the danger. For 700 years, the monks tended the fire to keep the light burning to warn of the rocks on the coastline! THAT is an amazing feat. In the 12th century, along came William Marshall, the son-in-law of Strongbow and Aoife. Being the 4th son of the family, the heir, the soldier, and the priest were taken care of. So what was left for William? He went off to be a knight, travelling around competing in tournaments, earning the accolade of “the greatest knight that ever lived”. He served 5 English kings, accompanied King Richard in the crusades and eventually became Regent to the young King Henry II. He took the vows of the Knights Templar and is buried in the Temple Church in London. What has all that got to do with the Hook Lighthouse? Well, Marshall was granted the earldom of Pembroke and it was he who built the current tower in the 12th century. Or rather, he who funded the building of the tower. William Marshall recognized that a better lighthouse was needed on the site and set about making it happen. It was the monks who actually built it and became the original keepers of the light. This incredible medieval structure is four stories high (36 metres/118 ft) and has 3 levels of rib-vaulted ceilings, with walls 4 metres thick. Each floor has a massive stone fireplace and the thick walls contain nooks with windows for study and watch, and garderobes for “the necessary”. The top tier had the beacon fire, eventually replaced with a lantern. To imagine the process of construction – the stone being hauled to the site and the construction of the vaulted ceilings without the machinery we have now is almost inconceivable. The structure is absolutely marvelous. The phrase "by Hook or by Crook" is attributed to Oliver Cromwell, who vowed to conquer the land by the Hook Peninsula in on the Wexford side, or by the village of Crooke on the Waterford side. We have to assume he was successful, as he was in so many areas, as that is about the time the monastery was destroyed and the monks left the area. Fog warnings were also necessary, so fog guns were fired every 10 minutes from the cliff edge. This was replaced with explosive charges fired from the tower, and then with a foghorn blasted every 45 seconds when fog descended into the peninsula. After the monks, the first lighthouse keepers arrived in the 17th century, replacing the beacon fire with a coal burning lantern. The evolution of lighthouse lanterns saw the power source change from coal to whale oil, to paraffin oil and eventually to electricity. The first level of the lighthouse has one of the Fresnel lens lanterns – the game changer in the lighthouse world. Jane showed us how the tiny holiday light inside concentrates the beam of light to increase its power and distance. She also said the keepers could actually go a bit mad from the mercury used to allow the lantern to spin. For the next 200+ years, a keeper lived at the lighthouse – raising their families, who often took over keeper duties, making them multi-generational jobs. Though a remote existence for a family, everything was provided to keep them cared for and transportation to school for the kids. The keepers and their families have fond memories of their time there, despite the long hours and sometimes gruelling efforts to keep the light burning. In 1972, the light became powered by electricity, and in 1996, the light’s operation was automated, marking an end to the need for a keeper. The keeper’s residences and outbuildings were converted to visitor’s centre, restaurant and exhibition centres for tourism. In 2011, the foghorns were disabled, replaced by the sophisticated technology of today, making the foghorn unnecessary. One of Jane’s statements really stuck with me – “William Marshall is remembered as the hero that made it all happen, but the real heroes were the monks and the keepers who kept the light burning.” Hook Lighthouse, at 800 years old, is the oldest operating lighthouse in the world. Imagine that! On the way out, we stopped for lunch and had a very yummy open-faced shrimp sandwich. Jon saw me return from the tour and very kindly gave me a Hook Lighthouse patch for my riding souvenirs. I love good people – they are everywhere if you only choose to see them! We have had a long list of things to do and see while in Ireland, but being down to our last few days, we’ve had to prioritize.
Tuesday was a fun day of exercise and exploration. Tom, from one of the rider groups in Ireland had given us a number of things to do in the Waterford area, this being his neck of the woods. One of these suggestions was to cycle the Waterford Greenway, locally known as the Déise Greenway. It used to be a railway line and has been converted to a 46 km cycling and walking path. Along its length, there are reputed to be eleven bridges, a tunnel that is almost ½ a kilometre long, and three viaducts! Seeing as 46 kms is a bit of a stretch for yours truly, even on an electric bike, we started at the town of Dungarvan. I travelled by motorcycle and Peter travelled by car. We booked bikes online and there were two shops on the same street, in close proximity to each other. Of course we got the wrong one first – a little too bad as the first shop seemed much more organized and on top of things. All the same, we got our bikes and off we went. We cycled about 5 kms before stopping at the old train station for a break. There is a little restaurant there with picnic tables outside and to be respectful, we went in to buy a couple of drinks before sitting at a table to eat the sandwiches we brought with us. Being ignored by the staff while they walked by me 3 times was just about enough to make me leave and go eat our sandwiches anyway, but finally someone acknowledged me and drinks were acquired. In hindsight, the outside tables are not restaurant tables and we could have just had our water and sandwiches anyway. Re-energized with lunch, we headed out again, riding down as far as the long tunnel and across a couple of bridges with gorgeous views of the landscape. Photo ops everywhere of course, with more pullouts for breaks than all the highways in Ireland have. After a great time on the greenway, we met with Tom in the car park who had come over with his motorcycle to meet us. Having spent more time than planned on the greenway, we decided that by the time we made it to the BnB, that would be enough of a day. So Peter headed off with the car and Tour Guide Tom led me on a motorcycle ride along the Copper Coast, pointing out sites and telling me the local stories. The first actual stop we made was at the old Tankardstown Copper Mine site at Knockmahon. In the early 1850s, a copper mine was on this site, employing over 2000 workers who mined copper from 200 metres under the ocean. The remaining ruins are of the engine houses, which housed massive engines used to hoist materials in and out of the shafts. The ore from the site was crushed to eliminate some waste, but then shipped to Wales for smelting. For 25 years the ore was aggressively mined until depleted, at which time the shafts were flooded and the workers left to fend for themselves, leaving workers unemployed and families without resources. We stopped at Boatstrand Harbour where Tom said they do a lot of lifeguard training, and which is the marine search and rescue centre in the area. Training is done right there in the busy harbour with boats coming and going and no wetsuits – real world experiences. I know you’ve seen people walking their dogs, but when was the last time you saw someone swimming their horse! I guess it used to be a training thing for race horses, but it’s not seen very much anymore here. Not in the ocean anyway. The horse seemed to be loving it. Somewhere in there is a massive tree that has the most amazing chainsaw carving I've ever seen in real life. The old tree needed to be cut down and the owner was approached by an artist who asked if he could carve it. Obviously, permission was granted and the result is astounding. Our next stop was at a beach where there was an old lime kiln like the one at the Lough Gur site. The beach was beautiful. Tom pointed out a little island and said many years ago, a couple of guys had robbed a shop in Dungarvan and took off in the direction of this beach. With the Garda hot on their trail, they crashed into the rock wall at the entrance and headed for the little island. The Garda followed them and stood on the beach and waited…..because at low tide the island becomes exposed and can be walked out to. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful heist. It was time to stop for a break, so we headed for the Tramore Promenade’s Sandcastle Cafe for a coffee, and in my case, a coffee and a gelato. This was a common spot for riders to meet up, but none today so we had a great time chatting and talking about our various journeys. Tom and his wife Fiona have been all over Europe by motorcycle and have lots of stories to tell. We took the obligatory selfie, including Monkey, who insinuated himself into Tom and Fiona’s life somewhere along the way and accompanies them on all rides. The last leg was a short one, so Tom led me to the Passage East ferry to cross the little estuary that would put me on the road to our BnB at Rosslare. A lovely little place again! Peter was already there, so I parked the bike and we went for dinner before turning in and preparing for the next day, which would be a long one. All in all, a successful day! Good exercise, great motorcycle ride, and a new friend! Life is good. |