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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. |
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