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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!
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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. Craic (pronounced "krak"): a good time, a fun experience, or a friendly conversation and is commonly used in Irish slang. That right there is an excellently inadequate description of the chaos, nonsense and shenanigans that took place this weekend. This post jumps the queue of adventures a bit, but absolutely deserves to, perhaps being the grandest adventure of all as making new friends always is. It’s been a week of riding and meeting riders! This week, I met Tom from an Irish rider’s group that I had connected with before we came. He toured me around his ‘hood and the stories of that will show up in another blog. Thursday this week was the regular meetup of another bunch of riders down the County Clare way. I headed out to meet Anita of Motorbike Women Ireland and anyone else who might show up. The weather was grand, so a decent turnout was expected. And a decent turnout it was, in spite of rain that began to fall about 10 minutes before I got there. The meetup was just along the Lahinch Promenade, so there was no shelter and it rained pretty steadily the whole time we were there. We persisted with our visit, though I can’t recall all the names of the people I met – that’s what happens when I can’t whip out my phone and make notes! It was great to meet Anita, who has stayed in touch since my initial contact with the women’s group. If you’ve been paying attention, a couple of weeks ago, I wrote about having dinner with 4 members of an Irish women’s motorcycle group. We got along like a house on fire, talked, laughed and I told them about the Left-Right-Centre game played with dice and money. Ears perked up and I explained how it worked. Everyone thought it sounded like a blast. They suggested we should try to do a ride-out before I left. I said “Well, I’ve got a bunch of bedrooms where I’m staying. Why don’t you come down my way and stay over?” By the next morning, the word was out and the plan was in action. I got word later in the week that 7 were committed to coming, with a repeated emphasis on “Bring €6.” It was pointed out that the game only required €3, to which the response was “Oh, we’re playing more than once…” Game on! After another busy week of chasing around Ireland sight-seeing, Peter and I were ready for a couple of rest days, so on Friday, we went out and got groceries for a barbeque and prepared for the Moto Invasion on Saturday. Around 5:00 p.m., Carla, Paddy, Lisa, Ellen C, Aine, Ellen F, Helena, Elaine, and Mel arrived in good spirits and ready for a party. After a drink or two to relax after their long ride, the stories began….from Ellen F's mishaps on 2 wheels, to forgetting I had nothing under my riding jacket before unzipping at a fuel station, to Lisa losing her bikini in an aquatic centre wave pool full of kids. The lid was well and truly off the craic bottle. I blew my inhibited cover early on (if I ever had it), and they responded in spades. Paddy not only arrived with a box of Lindt chocolate like the kindred spirit she is, but also paid me the best compliment I think I have ever had. She had met me at the initial dinner a couple of weeks before and someone in the group that was not there asked “What’s Alyson like?” Paddy’s response was something like “She is really down to earth and just makes you feel comfortable immediately”. Thanks for sharing that Paddy – no higher praise can be bestowed and the feeling is entirely mutual. Helena arrived with a bagful candy that would rival the junk food drawer I used to have in the school district. We discovered that junk food could also be called appies and therefore perfectly acceptable to consume while we waited for dinner. Peter impressed everyone by laying on a banquet and things got quiet for awhile as we consumed burgers and salads and desserts, which is always a good sign. Paddy made her way into his heart by telling him she wasn't generally a huge fan of burgers, but those were the best burgers she ever had! Pitching in to clean up, the dishes were cleared, washed and table emptied in jig time. Best. Guests. Ever. Then it was down to the serious business of gaming. We played two games of LRC amidst groans and cheers and good-natured heckling, most of us losing our € to the two winners. This was followed by two games of UNO, which I had never played before and has A LOT of rules! No one was getting anything by Lisa – the rule police. Aine played everything cool as a cucumber, but I had been warned that it was a facade and not to buy it. Then Elaine, sitting quietly at the other end of the table sticking it to the lot of us by winning the first round. Gotta watch out for those quiet ones! Helena had referee duty sitting between Lisa and Ellen C for UNO. Mel was engaged in distracting Ellen F to try to sneak a look at her UNO cards, while heckling Lisa on the other side. Large quantities of sugar were again consumed, keeping everyone jacked up for the duration. It has been a long time since I’ve laughed until the tears ran down my face. Well done crew. Well done. Next morning, Peter made a hearty breakfast and all of us riders suited up for a ride-out, planned by the irrepressible planner Carla. Leaving for Adare a few minutes away, we stopped for a coffee, with some suggestion that this was a tame-the-beast requirement for Aine. 😉 We met up with Sharon and Ellie who joined us for the ride-out and Ellen F, who had stayed elsewhere for the night. Due to some less-than-steller group ride experiences, I am wary of them and insisted on being behind everyone else. What I experienced was a well-oiled group ride machine. Everyone in their lane position and the leader, shifting as needed, blocker and sweeper (Carla, Mel, and Lisa) keeping the group together with practiced ease. We had a great ride, stopping for lunch at the Town Hall restaurant for lunch before parting ways to continue our rides home. If craic was tangible, it would have been flowing out the windows and doors, enveloping the entire house in goodwill from this group of genuine, smart, generous, funny, hearts-of-gold people. Thanks for making me so very welcome in your midst. You have set yourselves firmly in my heart and I feel like I'm leaving old friends, not new ones. ☹ Following our return from the jaunt in the northern areas, we figured we deserved a rest day. An extended breakfast at the table, looking at what might be achieved for the rest of the week, took care of the morning. The weather had turned from crappy to nice, so I thought my “rest” day should involve getting the bike on the road. Peter thought he would go into Adare – a larger community not far from us that is rich with history – and explore some of the sites there. I wasn’t quite sure where I wanted to go with the bike, but decided to run out to Dingle, as the Connor Pass was on the route. I knew I could make a bit of a loop from there to come back so I wasn’t going over the same road twice. So off I went, excited to be going for a run. Those R and L roads with their warnings of squigglies ahead don’t scare me! Stopping for a break in Tralee, I grabbed a sandwich as a local gas station and topped up the tank. On to Connor Pass – the highest paved pass in Ireland! Turns out it is also the coldest and windiest place in Ireland on a motorcycle when you didn’t think you needed your warmer gloves. The pass itself demands respect, with a narrow, steep, winding road to the top. Room for one car only, thanks very much, with little enlarged spaces on the cliff side to give room to pass when you see someone coming down. Notice how I’m relating this after I’ve already done it? There is one viewpoint to pull off and park and drink in the beauty before another short stretch to the top. It was so cold, I could see my breath, but once you are that far, no point in stopping. So up to the top we went, the RE Super Meteor 650 pulling along without any effort at all. The view from the top is stunning. In spite of the chilly wind, I spent a few minutes there, just being calm and being present for the feel of the wind, the pure smell of the air and the landscape around me. Somewhere in the photos, you might see the tiny ribbon of road leading up to the top. On one side is the raw beauty of the pass and other the other, down the mountain, is Dingle – a small but prosperous seaside community. Off in the distance, I could even see the dim outline of the Skelling Islands! On the way down and around, I stopped in Dingle for a warm-up and pit stop before jumping back on the bike to head home, taking the coastal road by gorgeous beaches and pretty towns. True to my pathetic sense of direction, I took a wrong turn (yes, even with the GPS on) and extended my ride by about 45 minutes. Arriving back chilled and happy, I regret not one minute of it. Hot bath followed! Peter, apparently, was not quite castled and monasteried out. In Adare, after getting a few photos of picturesque cottages with thatched roofs, he stopped at the Trinitarian Abbey, founded somewhere around 1226. While there were many of these in England and Scotland, this is the only one in Ireland. According to the Britannica site, Trinitarians were founded by St. John of Matha, with an aim of freeing Christian slaves from the Muslims, North Africa, the Middle East, and Spain. Being an austere order, they used what wealth they had to liberating these slaves. With slavery a thing of the past, the order turned to education, missionary work and serving in public facilities such as hospitals and prisons. Once numbering in the thousands of members, there is only one surviving branch of the Trinitarian order. The next stop Peter made was Desmond Castle. His timing was impeccable, and he got a personal tour of the ruin. Built in the 13th century, it stood strong until Cromwell attacked it in 1657 from the south, destroying most of the structure on that side. The rest still has remarkable features with a barbican gate, curtain wall, inner keep, and grounds. Most remarkably, is the 400-year-old yew tree still standing inside the grounds. There is another site in Ireland at Maynooth College, that has an 800-year-old yew tree that is believed to be the oldest tree in Ireland. Apparently, the yew tree can live as long as 2000 years. Neolithic people thought yew trees were cursed because when you cut them, they bleed red. The Normans, however, prized yew trees for their wood as being the best for making bows. Not yet saturated with history, Peter continued to the Franciscan Friary known as “The Poor Abbey” due to the Franciscan vow of poverty and being known for begging. Founded in 1464, the friary operated until King Henry VIII’s dissolution of monasteries. Driven out by the “reformation”, the friary fell into disuse until 1633 when it was re-established, continuing to operation until the mid-1800s. The Friary building (or some of it at least), is now used as a National School building. So much for a day of rest, but a well spent one, in any case. Doesn’t that just sound cheerful?! In truth, they are related in this story, so don’t give me a hard time yet. We were starting to run out of steam a bit on our third day in the north, having hiked and scrambled 20 kms or so up steep landscapes the day before. I might behave like I’m still 25, but my body isn’t buying it! The day began with considerable rainfall. I know…..really?! In Ireland?!! Well, if you didn’t go places in the rain in Ireland, you wouldn’t go anywhere at all. So, with the wind blowing our wrinkles back from our face and the rain pelting, we headed for Streedagh Beach. It is a little strand of beach on the western edge of County Sligo and is the site of a massive loss of life. In 1588, the Spanish Armada, in a failed attempt to invade England, retreated and hit stormy seas off the coast of Ireland. Three ships – La Lavia, La Juliana, and the Santa Maria de Vison, blew into Streedagh Beach, breaking up quickly and either dragging their crew down or casting them to the sea where they were mostly drowned in short order. It is believed that about 140 survivors made it to shore, where they set upon and stripped and left to die or killed outright. The nearby village of Grange has an annual festival to commemorate the event. You can learn more about it at https://spanisharmadaireland.com/. There is another shipwreck at Streedagh Beach that was originally thought to be part of the Armada sinking, but Wikipedia reports this as being dated as an 18th century wreck of a trading vessel that sailed between Britain and Ireland and was swept out to sea. This wreck is actually visible at low tide. Twenty lives were lost. I think the moral of this story is…..don’t sail around Streedagh Beach if you can avoid it! Being there on a windy, stormy day gives you a pretty good idea of how such a catastrophe could occur. Next on the list of things to do was to stop in at the Drumcliffe Cemetery where Ireland’s most famous poet – W.B. Yeats is buried. The cemetery was the site of a monastery founded in 574. This stop would be a 2-for-1 as there is also a great view of the Benbulben Mountains from the churchyard. We arrived a little wet, but with our interest intact. At this site, there is also one of the old Celtic High Crosses that are scattered across the Irish landscape. We have seen them here and there – Foynes had one as well, but this one we could get up close to and it is remarkable that they have survived so long with their carvings still visible. They were used as illustrations of bible stories so a mostly illiterate population could “read” them. This one dates back to the 9th century and has carvings of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, and Daniel and the Lion’s Den that are still quite clear. William Butler Yeats wasn’t just a poet and playwright. He was a bit of a mover and a shaker. While he spent a good deal of his life outside of Ireland, he returned to Sligo often and considered it home. He was one of the key players in the Irish Literary Revival, the key playwright for Irish theater, and became politically active later in life, serving a couple of terms as a senator. The epitaph on his grave shows his own words: “Cast a cold Eye on life, on Death. Horseman pass by.” It is unknown if it was his intent that these words be used on his grave, or if that was decided for him after his death. He died of heart failure at the age of 73. We failed to see the Benbulben Mountain from the cemetery, with low cloud refusing to give up its secret. So, we carried on. A brief stop in the City of Sligo was in order as we were hungry now. The lot where we parked had a moving statue with “Letters from America” telling the story of the clearances, and The Great Hunger, where families were torn apart, died, or emigrated in hopes of surviving, leaving loved ones behind. From 1847-1851, over 30,000 people emigrated from the Sligo port. Such tragedy. A W.B. Yeats quote is associated with this statue, reading “The dead are not far from us….they cling in some strange way to what is most still and deep within us.” I suppose there is some consolation in that, but my personal experience is that I would still rather have my loved ones right here in front of me to talk with, laugh with, sing with, dance with, cry with, and love. How fortunate we are that we have all we need and more at our fingertips. We stopped at a restaurant called Hooked that looked good. There was a bit of a wait, so we went for a walk and got our tourist photos with the SLIGO sign and wandered the canal a bit. Going back for lunch, we found Hooked to be full of quirky art and good food. A stop well worth making. The weather began to lighten, making our next stop at Carrowmore Megalithic Cemetery much mor pleasant. This site is astounding! It has the oldest and highest concentration of Neolithic tombs in Ireland. You couldn’t turn in a 360-degree circle without seeing one either close enough to touch, or identifying one on the landscape. 35 surviving tombs date back to 6,000 years ago. A great visitor centre provides you with a story and a map of the area with a description of the tombs. Many of the tombs look like they are just a stone or two on the landscape, and if you’re wondering where the rest went, you only need to look as far as the farmer’s wall surrounding the sites. They would have provided a readily accessible source of stone for caging livestock and defining property. Some tombs are still remarkably intact and a walk through the mowed path leads you through a number of sites which are described on a map provided by the visitor centre. The largest tomb on the site has been reinforced against erosion and destruction. This one has a passage and a central area with a massive dolmen inside. How the heck they moved those things into such structures just never ceases to be a marvel. The website at http://www.carrowkeel.com/sites/carrowmore/index.html says that DNA findings from this site suggests the people came from north-western France, bringing cattle and sheep with them. I also learned from this site that the native Irish Elk became extinct in the last ice age and these Neolithic folks re-introduced the red deer to Ireland. This is based on the oldest indications of red deer remains being found in these tombs as antler bone used for pins and tools. Of course, Peter's keen geologist's eye even picked up some fossils in the rock. Like the very old cemeteries, there is a feeling of peace at these sites. Also, a feeling of insignificance, in a way. Not a bad way, really – its rather reassuring in the sense that life has and will go on, one way or another, with or without the petty strife of humanity. Finally, it was back to our home away from home for a pauper’s dinner of monster crab claws, cambezola cheese (can’t believe how cheap cheese is here!) and wine. Tough life we’ve got going on here. The second full day in the north started with a stop at Lough Neagh, close to Toome. This is where the famous Irish eels are caught. We searched every way possible “where to eat eel in Ireland” and could not find it on a single menu. What I did find were a number of articles that said “The Irish don’t eat eel. Yuck. They are an export.” It must be true because everyone we asked looked at us like we had 3 heads. We swiftly realized if we really did want to try eel, we would have to fish for it ourselves or wait until we get back to Vancouver! There was a nice walk along the canal and its locks though, leading out to a point where there is a small tower remnant of a castle and a lovely view of the lake. Starting our day off with a bit of exercise proved to be a warm-up for what was to come. From Lough Neagh, we headed to Malin Head – a highlight of this little stint, being the most northerly point in Ireland. The drive, as expected, could be a little sketchy towards the end – the usual narrow roads. When travelling by car, we’ve been taking turns – one day off, one day on. We’ve achieved a nice balance – Peter’s nervous when I drive, I’m nervous when he drives, yet somehow we make it to the end of the day. Malin Head was spectacular! We learned when we got there that it also has a Star Wars claim. The Millennium Falcon was assembled there and several scenes shot. Prior to Star Wars, though, Malin Head has a previous claim to aeronautic history. The Eire 80 you see in the photos below was a navigation marking system created during WWII so pilots would know where they were over the Atlantic. You can wander all over the coastline, and we did. Peter got all excited when his geologist’s eye caught a massive quartz vein. To be fair, it was pretty cool and so we scrambled down to see it and also to take photos of the flowers that were growing in the cracks of the rocks (OK, that was mostly me). We also had an excellent chat with Martina, who was one of the vendors up at the top with t-shirts and souvenirs. Great craic! It was quite a hike out to the headland and back, after we had already been down the other side a fair distance. Well worth it though, for the stunning beauty of the place. By the time we were done, we were well ready for a stop at the Malin Head Crab truck for a road lunch. We ended up leaving with about 2 kg of crab in one form or another and had it for our roadside lunch, then on a croissant with spread for supper, and again on a croissant with spread for breakfast the next morning. Oh….and then cracked the 1 kg of massive claws for dinner the next evening as well! They don’t call me crabby for nuthin’! The day was wearing on by now and it was still 2 hours to Sliabh Liag (pronounced Slieve League). Sliabh Liag has the highest cliffs in Ireland, being 2000 feet high and reputed awe-inspiring. So I thought we should press on to it because the day was nice and it can change in a minute – certainly overnight – if we waited. So press on we did. It was a long, slow, twisty drive on Peter’s favourite L and R-type roads. Then it began to pour rain. Oh well – we can drive right up to the viewing platform and at least get a photo. It continued to pour rain. But when we finally got to there, the rain cleared - WIN! And there was a cone in front of the road leading up to the viewing platform. Not so win-ish. Walkers coming down said it was about 30 minutes to the top and we groaned, already being tired from Malin Head. But there we were and it would be a waste not to, so we made the climb. So worth it that we climbed another couple of hundred feet up the mountain. Sheep everywhere! All I could think of was “there’s some seriously free-range sheep here”. Way up the mountain side on impossibly steep cliffs like it was no big deal at all. Scampering up the steps of the path making it clear that they have the right-of-way. Clearly for them it wasn’t so much of a climb, but like the Skellig Island climb, this one was not for the feint of heart for us mere humans. We didn’t do the whole pilgrims walk that is up there, but went a good distance to another big viewpoint. The pictures don’t do it justice, of course, but here they are anyway. On the way down the cliff path, watching young kids who looked like they weighed 12 lbs wandering close to the edge as windy as it was, I couldn’t help curbing my mom urge to yank them away. Then it came to me – the chorus of All About That Base – with an Alyson twist: “My mama, she told me, don’t worry about your size. It stops the wind blowing you off of that cliff you climbed…” Hiking back down the mountain to the car, we were not so exhausted that we missed the crazy amazing views across the water. Apparently wool makes sheep itchy too because we saw a big one having a big scratch against a rock, not giving two hoots about passers-by. Another hour’s drive delivered us to Killybegs where we overnighted, well ready for sleep before another big day of plans! |
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