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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. ☹
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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! On our travels north, I was adamant that we dispatch somewhat with the churchy/castley stuff and dig deeper for the pre-christian history and sites of Ireland. Sliabh Na Calliagh (Hill of the Witch) was tailor-made for such a goal. We stopped at the little shop down the hill from the site first to grab a sandwich and a bathroom break. Peter had a good chat with Niall and I poked around the little shop (not getting out empty-handed, I might add). Niall does maintenance around the property and was a friendly sort with helpful information. It was kind of like chatting with our son, so we chatted a bit more. He was kind enough to let us take his picture too! On previous trips to Ireland, we had been to Newgrange and Tara. Like Tara, Sliabh Na Calliagh, (now known as the Loughcrew Cairns) has a mystique about it and is a remarkable testament to Neolithic culture. It is quite a climb to the site, but if anything is worth it, this one certainly is. We arrived between tours and had a tour guide almost all to ourselves. He was extremely knowledgeable and engaging, and clearly fascinated with his work. These cairns are believed to be around 5000 years old – older even than Newgrange. The consist of 32 cairns spread over 4 hilltops. What is known of these people is that they were farmers; growing wheat and barley, and keeping cattle and sheep. Though these people cremated their dead, bone fragments have allowed DNA analysis to tell us that these were family tombs. One of them contained 12 generations of a single family. This also gives some idea of how long the neolithic people were in Ireland. It has also been discovered that these people were Mediterranean in origin, with darker skin, hair and eyes. Not the ancestors of current Irish inhabitants. Peter impressed the tour guide by knowing that the last major influx of DNA to Ireland was during the Bronze Age. The guide said those are the ancestors of modern-day Irish folk. What is considered “Celtic” invasion was not a DNA thing – Celtic refers to cultural beliefs and practices, not blood ancestry. Nothing is really known about what happened to the Neolithic folk. They just disappeared. Did they move on? Were they wiped out by a cataclysmic event – environmental, disease, war? We’ll never know. Many of the cairns were pillage for their stone, but the central cairn still stands untouched, aside from the collapse of some of the stone off the mound. They think perhaps that because this cairn had a curb stone covered in carvings, that it was left alone due to superstition. The Irish are a very superstitious lot. 😊 The carvings on the curb stone have eroded away, but fortunately record of it was made before that happened. Inside the cairn are several carved stones. The instability of the mound means you can't go inside anymore, but photos of the carvings are incredible. Like many other neolithic mounds, this mound is aligned to the spring and autumn equinox sunset, which lights the passage for an hour. Much longer than the 7 minutes of the Newgrange sunrise light. Cairn T (as it is unromantically named) is at the highest point of all of the hills and all surrounding mounds can be seen from it. These sites have the highest number of carved stones of any site found so far in Europe. One of the legends associated with these mounds is that of a witch who wanted to own this part of Ireland. The gods told her if she could leap from one hill to the next, she could have it. Carrying an apron of stones, she thought “No biggie, I've got this”. As she leaped, stones fell from her apron, creating these mounds, which we now know to be cairns. However, she stumbled on the last hill and fell to her death. There is a lone standing stone at the bottom of one of the hills said to be where she died and marks her grave. Cairn T has a large curb stone. When originally discovered, it was ornately carved. Fortunately, they had the presence of mind to make a drawing of it because it has now eroded away almost completely. If you sit on the curb stone and wish, then walk around the cairn three times, you will get your wish. Well, the curb stone is pretty high, but I did meditate on it, make my wishes and circle the cairn three times. After all, we Irish are a superstitious lot! Again, I encourage you to visit Mythical Ireland (that’s a link) for photos of the carved stones we didn’t get to see and read more about the site. Simply fascinating. We called it a day at Toome, staying at the lovely Dunsilly Hotel where I ate all the cookies that they were foolish enough to leave in the room. It had advertised free breakfast, which was part of the reason I chose it. No muffin and rubber boiled eggs here - it was a full spread of Irish breakfast (if you wanted it), or yogurt, cereal, toast, croissants, cheese, or all of it at once if you have the appetite! Lovely rooms, too - well worth the stay and I highly recommend it. "I could kind of care less about seeing more churchy/castley sites, knowing what they represent here in Ireland". So said I. But Peter wanted to so....sigh.....FINE - first stop of the day is the Hill of Sláine. Wow! You know what happens when you assume....? We ended up spending well over an hour exploring the ruins. The Hill of Sláine is a prominent feature rising 158m (520ish feet) above the surrounding landscape. Had we known it, we could have seen it from the Hill of Tara on the previous day. A tower dating back to 1512 still exists on the site along with a cemetery with graves dating from way back to fairly recent times. As always with very old cemeteries, a sense of peace settles over you and the world slows down. Also on the site are the remains of a Franciscan Abbey, built by the Barons of Slane somewhere in the same neighborhood of time. King Henry the VIII (the one of many wives) dissolved the monastery and distributed its lands in one of his attempts to rid his empire of Catholicism. It didn't work for long. It was restored in 1631, operating for another 20 years before Cromwell had a go and drove out the monks in 1651. There are several stories associated with the site: (courtesy of the story boards and the Mythical Ireland website – a very interesting site. Check it out!).
The Abbey is quite amazing. It was at least a 2-storey structure and the remaining features include post holes that would have had beams to support the 2nd floor, identifiable fireplaces and living spaces. A large room with what appears to be benches of some kind - maybe this was a study hall? An absolute maze of stone staircases from one floor to the next and all the way to the top where you have a breathtaking view of Ireland. Even the Hill of Tara is visible from there. We crawled all over this for a good long while, taking - guess what - LOADS of pictures! Well worth the stop! Thursday, June 13th – Tracey’s birthday. The plan was to ride my newly acquired motorcycle up to Drogheda to meet up with the Motorbike Women Ireland group for dinner. Peter would follow by car and we’d then spend a couple of days exploring more northly sites that were on our list of things to see. Thursday dawned with huge winds and rain, not expected to improve on the way north. I seriously considered riding anyway – I have ridden in worse, and the way the weather changes here, it might not be so bad after an hour or so. All through breakfast I thought about riding, even knowing I probably shouldn’t. Finally I heard Tracey’s voice in my head – “Not today, baby girl. Not today”. Much to Peter’s relief I said I would leave the bike and go with him in the car. The decision was validated by increasing wind and rain along the way, meaning we didn’t make the first stop at Portlaoise to check out the Rock of Dunamase. I wasn’t that disappointed, being a little saturated with castle ruins. Besides, we had planned on stopping at Trim Castle a bit further along the road, one of the most striking castle ruins still standing. We did stop in Portlaoise for gas and a bite to eat though, and learned - from the gas station story boards of all places – that John Kinder Labatt – the found of Labatt’s brewery in Canada, is from Ireland! Begun in 1175 and taking over 30 years to build, Trim Castle is the largest Anglo-Norman structure in Ireland. Located in the heart of County Meath, the keep is 3 storeys tall, with 20 sides. If that wasn’t enough, it was surrounded by a ditch, curtain wall and moat, making it practically invulnerable. We didn’t go inside the castle, as that could only be done by tour which would not be for another hour. Though the rain was steady, we wandered the grounds and took a bunch of photos, of course. The grounds are extensive and it was a good hike to go all the way through them. The barbican gate was fascinating, with its arrow slits and guard areas. It made me think of when Derry was doing LARP on Vancouver Island and someone came off the grounds after a round and said “Who is that F*&^%NG archer that keeps nailing everyone?!” Derry was that F*&^%NG archer and so I thought of him sitting in one of those arrow slits going “Yeah….I dare ya…..try to breach the moat.” As a point of interest, Trim Castle was featured in Braveheart as well. As much as I despise what it stands for, it is a marvel of medieval engineering and construction. The rain cleared a little and, having spotted the oldest bridge in Ireland, had to go for a stroll over it. On the way, we stopped into a little visitor centre and the representative there told us how to get to the bridge and also about the bakery at the corner of the bridge! I think he’s on commission because if you go into that bakery, you are NOT coming out empty-handed. Making the trip across the bridge and back, complete with obligatory photos, we stopped at the bakery and left with a hot sausage roll for Peter and carrot cake for me. Energy for the road. 😊 With plenty of day left before dinner with the riders, we stopped at the Hill of Tara for Tracey. She had loved Tara when we were there in 2011 together. We left ribbons and wishes at the fairy tree, felt the history of the site and drank in the astounding view of all of the counties of Ireland. The Hill of Tara has been identified as the seat of the High Kings of Ireland and the site contains several mounds and earthwords, including a passage tomb. A standing stone on the site is believed to be the Stone of Destiny and there appears to be a ceremonial avenue. The fairy tree, where you can make a wish and tie a ribbon on the tree, has since uprooted from wind, but another immediately beside it has taken over the role. What used to be an open field at the Hill of Tara is now a little bit more controlled in order to protect the site from an increasing number of visitors every year. While this is necessary for the preservation of it, somehow a bit of the magic is lost. Leaving Tara, we headed for our BnB in Slane. Frank has created several private little cabins, equipped with little kitchens, private bathrooms, good-size bedroom and wee living space that are just lovely. The units are so comfortable and we really enjoyed our stay there. I left Peter there and drove up to Drogheda to meet the Women Bikers Ireland group. Four were able to get there and we had a grand time getting to know each other. I left them each with a t-shirt and I received a snood with their logo on it. I feel very cool, and it was also a great thing because I forgot mine at home! We plan to gather next weekend down here for a ride/visit. Looking forward to that! You meet the best people when you put yourself out there. I hear you – “What the heck do those two things have in common?!” Well, I didn’t just pull a title out of my ear because it was nice and alliterative, so I’m about to tell you. Both of those things are part of the history of Valentia Island! Valentia Island is one of Ireland's most westerly points and we visited as part of our trip to the Skellig Islands. As if the Skellig Islands weren’t cool enough, we learned while we were out there that there is a tetrapod trackway. Tetrapods are somewhere in the neighbourhood of 400 million years old and are believed to be an important evolutionary step as the first amphibious creatures crawled out of the swamp onto land, leaving their tracks for us to find. The site was only discovered in 1993 by a geology student. A steep path leads along the landscape down to the site and a picturesque walk ends at a viewing platform where multiple tracks are clearly visible. Despite the physical exertion of the 618 steps to the peak of the Skelligs, we made the short, steep walk to the trackways and back. Along the path, we met Bev Truss of Hogsprickle Rehab Centre and had a good chat. It’s not every day you meet a hedgehog wildlife rescuer! Ok, so that’s the Tetrapods. What about the Trans-Atlantic Cable? Remember the Old Cable House we stayed at with the skeleton key, gorgeous rooms and amazing restaurant? That is where we learned the history of the first transatlantic cable laid across the Atlantic ocean. The cable station is located on Valentia Island. Two ships were dispatched from a mid point and cable laid in each direction. Numerous failed attempts were made until finally on August 5, 1858 a full trans-Atlantic cable was laid from Valentia Island, Ireland to….guess where…..Trinity Bay, Newfoundland! This cable allowed almost instant information transfer from Ireland to North America. Game changer! Newfoundland keeps showing up with a lot of firsts for Trans-Atlantic stuff, being the closest point of contact. The first wireless radio signal, the first trans-Atlantic flights, the first trans-Atlantic cable. Our room key at the Old Cable House had the name Michael Faraday on it, so I had to look that up. Wikipedia to the rescue, who says Faraday's "main discoveries included the principles underlying electromagnetic induction, diamagnetism and eletrolysis." Faraday was an extremely influential scientist who seems to be the guy responsible for the notion of conductive cables. Click the Wikipedia link about him at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Faraday - it's very interesting. Some other extras on this trip:
The day after Foynes and Bunratty, I was in bad need of a rest day. A cold was trying to catch me (I fended it off) and the pace of our activities was catching up to me. Knowing that I was to pick up my motorcycle on Monday, June 10th, it seemed wise to take a rest day. Caught up on laundry, slept a lot, and went for a walk into the village of Croom where we are staying. As with many of these small villages, there are picturesque sites everywhere and we did our share of photo-taking. Stopped at the local grocery for a couple of things for supper and then stopped at the pub for a pint. The Old Mill pub, which must be named for what appear to be two out-of-use mills across the river, is a low-ceilinged building that looks the size of a hole in the wall when you enter. Until you round a corner inside and realize it extends way to the back and can handle all the people it needs to when there’s a hurling match on! Chatting with the locals, we also learned that there is an excellent Elvis performer coming at the end of the month that we might be able to catch. I also gathered my gear to be ready for the next morning when Peter would drop me off to Retroventures where I would pick up the Royal Enfield Himalayan that I had rented for a couple of weeks. Retroventures has a wide variety of bikes and other modes of transportation for rent and have been amazing! They set me up with the bike, which I quickly realized was not going to be a walk in the park. To my surprise, I could barely get it off the side stand and upright with the high, front-end heavy weight. Still, I resolved to give it a whirl and took it for a spin and back to the house. It's a really fun, peppy bike and I had a good time testing it out on the back roads back, but wasn’t getting used to pushing it up after stopping and getting off, feeling a pull in my shoulder every time. Peter took his time with the car, finding a different route back and found the Killmallock Domincan Friary ruins to explore. This was founded in 1291 and used until 1591. The detail in this Friary was remarkable and some has survived to this date. That afternoon, we were headed for the Skelligs tour, which had been planned on short notice and so I left the bike and off we went – you’ve already heard that story. Having the day to think about the Himalayan, I knew I would be uncomfortable every time I wanted to go somewhere. I badly wanted to “get used to it” – such a cool bike – but knew the best thing would be to switch it out if I could. I often joke about being a "delicate garden flower" and it was with some chagrin that I had to admit in this case, it was true! I contacted Retroventures and asked if I could change it out to be picked up on Wednesday. They were wonderfully responsive and soon had me sorted with a new bike – a Royal Enfield Super Meteor 650, which I picked up on Wednesday morning. Though of similar weight and fuel capacity as the Himalayan, it is 2” lower, freeing me to use the big muscles of my legs to set it upright. I took it for a 3-hour spin and found it to be a game-changer with no discomfort at all. The weather was amazing and I extended my ride, stopping for a latte and chocolate cake break. 😊 Knowing I had to be back to run a training session later in the day, I headed back to the house feeling like I had done the right thing. During my bike-swapping nonsense, Peter went for a hike in the Ballyhoura Mountains close to the place we are staying. He had a great hike on a gorgeous day, enjoying the peace of the Irish landscape and the flora and birdsong of the area, topping it off with a sunset thrusting our round tower across the back pasture into stark silhouette. Making the last-minute decision to head north for me to attend a rider’s meetup, we did some hasty packing and preparation to head out the next morning to explore more northern areas. What a life we are leading! No, that’s not the untidy hairstyle of a prima ballerina. It is a castle in Shannon, Ireland. Fourteen years ago, we visited this castle with the kids and attended its Medieval Feast. They served us mead in little wooden cups that was too tasty to be trusted and enough of a hit to make me think I might fall down the circular staircase to the feast hall! Now they sell that same mead in bottles, which I’m not altogether sure is a good idea. But we bought some anyway. It’s hard to believe we did this site on the same day as Foynes Flying Boat and Air Museum, and that was almost a week ago. Shows you how far behind I am in my stories! Bunratty Castle (or the site, really) began in 1250 as a wooden structure built as a defensive fortress by a Norman, Robert De Muscegros. He must have been one of those Normans that took to the Irish ways a little to well for the English king to be satisfied because the lands were granted to Thomas De Clare and that lad built the first stone castle on the site. Situated at the mouth of the Ralty River, which feeds the mighty Shannon that runs out to sea, Bunratty was a hot spot for both offensive and defensive power. It is also located in the west of Ireland, where the English didn’t have quite as much land and power and the Irish clans were strong and determined. Despite the town of Bunratty growing to 1000 habitants between 1250 and 1318, it was completely destroyed during an Irish – Norman battle. Somewhere between 1318 and 1332, it was restored to the English king, but razed again in 1332 by the Irish Chieftans O’Brien and MacNamara. Twenty-odd years later, it was again rebuilt by the English, only to be attacked once more by the Irish. It has remained in Irish hands since, occupied by an Irish Chieftan (the O’Briens) in the 1600s, until it was abandoned for another. Sometime between then and the 1800s, it fell to ruin. The ruin and some surrounding lands were purchased by the Viscount and Viscountesse Gort and extensive restoration began. John Hunt (remember him, made famous in my Walking Limerick blog of a couple of days ago?) encouraged the Viscount to preserve the heritage of the site. Hunt was instrumental in the restoration of Bunratty Castle. In 1976, the Viscount Gort bequeathed the castle and its furnishings to the people of Ireland. A folk park with reconstructed buildings, some of which are actual buildings that have been moved to the site, provide a look at the traditional lives of people over a number of eras. There are many events held over the course of the year and ongoing medieval feasts and battles are part of these. Visit the Bunratty Castle website at https://www.bunrattycastle.ie/ to check it out. Inside the castle, several rooms have been restored to their former glory and one can climb to the top of the castle for a stunning view of the Irish landscape and to scope out which tower bedroom would be preferred should you have visited in medieval times. Don’t miss climbing both tower staircases to puzzle how two people could pass on them, let alone have a sword fight! One of the towers is a much larger living area which makes any master bedroom pale in comparison. The basement of the castle has some of its history, but also a great display of the steps and efforts made to restore the castle to its present-day state. The completeness of the castle, its activities and the surrounding folk village provide a rare glimpse into a more genuine representation of the times than movies would have us believe. The medieval feast is an activity not to be missed if there is only a chance to visit once. Hands and daggers are your utensils, and re-enactments of historical characters and entertainment complete the illusion of a medieval experience. Kick it up a notch and go in costume! Make sure to go well ahead of feast time so there is time to explore the castle and grounds before they are closed off for the evening feast. We did not do that when we were there with the kids – not realizing we should – and we missed a lot. Peter and I got separated early on as we toured different things. Wandering through the village, I began to wonder if Peter had been beheaded somewhere along the way for bad behaviour - I dunno....like stealing mead?. But then I glimpsed 2 hands in recognizable gestures through the door of the blacksmith shop. Sure enough, there he was, engaged in deep conversation with Seamus, the blacksmith. Seamus is shy, like me, 😉, which is why we spent a good half-hour in conversation. He is an avid genealogist and all-round good guy to talk with - friendly, welcoming and engaged. I know you will be shocked to learn there are tons of photos from Bunratty. I have tried to scale them down better that the 96 photos of the Skellig Islands tour, but I just couldn't do it. |
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