We're just back from the Palace Bar,
where we spent an enjoyable evening listening to music and drinking dark,
frothy, Guinness. But I'm getting ahead
of myself. I should start from the
beginning.
We left
We were told at SFO that the
Thankfully, we made it aboard, where
things started to look up for us. The
flight from
It was difficult to see anything as we
approached our destination, as there was a low, thick layer of fog or
cloud-cover over everything near
Though the skies were overcast, and the
weather on the cool side (mid-60s), there was little rain on our first day
here. The airport itself was small, but
easy to navigate. We quickly made our
way through customs, got our rental car, and made reservations at the Eliza
Lodge in
People were friendly, and helpful, and
understanding the thick Irish accents was a lot less difficult than I expected.
What was difficult, however, was getting
used to the driving position in our brand-new, Irish-oriented Ford Fiesta. I've never driven in a country where you drive
predominantly on the left side of the road, and this took some getting used
to. Even more awkward was driving with
my right hand on the wheel and left hand on the manual transmission. Having to use the same hand to signal and
shift gears was distracting, and I had to keep fighting the urge to put my left
hand on the steering wheel, and put my right hand on the car-window roller, as
if it were a stick shifter.
The roads aren't very consistently
painted either, at least to my untrained eye, and getting around was a bit
harrowing for the first half hour or so while I became accustomed to the
oddness of it all.
The streets of
Eventually though, we found our way
through
The lady who checked us in at Eliza Lodge
was very friendly and helpful. It's a
cute place, overlooking the
Upon waking, we went to grab some fish
and chips over at Leo Burdocks, a take-away place in south-west Temple
Bar. The portions were enormous, but
good, and the two of us couldn't even finish one order. We then wandered back alongside the Liffey,
eastwards towards the opposite end of Temple Bar district (which, incidentally,
is the most popular, and reputedly most commercialized and tourist-laden area
in
The pub was quite small and quaint,
filled with dark wooden stools and barrels-turned-tables, charming as I would
have expected. It was nearly empty when
we arrived, a quiet little place which poured us excellent pints of Guinness. An older gentleman was carrying on a
conversation there with a young, Japanese man at the bar. Soon after we sat down to our pints, these
two came near us and proceeded to pull out a flute and a violin, respectively,
and started warming up their instruments.
Before long, these two (who clearly from
their conversation didn't know each other at all) were caught up in a lively
Irish tune, with that whistling, lilting, toe-tapping traditional sound. As the night wore on, more musicians filtered
into the pub and joined in the group. A guitar player at first, who later on
bowed out when it became apparent she could not play
along with the same type of music. Then
a striking lass with a bodhran (large, Irish, hand-held drum) and an instrument
that looked something like a small guitar or a ukulele. By about 10:00pm or so, another violinist had
joined into the fray, and the four were filling the room with lively,
frolicking Irish music, that you couldn't help but tap your feet to.
The whole bar had filled up quite nicely
too. Where it was nearly empty when we
got there, it was now standing-room-only.
I'm not certain whether the music pulled people in from the streets, or
if there was just a magic time at which this place suddenly filled up. Regardless, it was a fun time,
and more than I had expected... with the live, impromptu music filling the
place with life and flavor.
We left at a bit past
We wandered through the
Now, we're back at the lodge, and I
really should be getting some more rest.
Hopefully by tomorrow I'll be fully adjusted to the time-change
here. I'm already poking through our
guidebook and trying to figure out where we should go next. Perhaps south, through
=======================
Apart from a good traditional Irish
breakfast at the Eliza Lodge, and a pleasant chat with the very personable
woman running the office there, our day didn't start out too well. Although the woman had quipped that we were
adventurous to be heading up into the mountains South of Dublin, what we didn't
count on was getting lost just getting out of
I had already mentioned the difficulty in
navigating a city where street names change every few blocks, and street names
are often difficult to spot or simply nonexistent at times. In addition to these troubles, we also
happened upon a freeway that had very few off-ramps, and where you would expect
intersections that would help you get to your destination, there often were
none.
We got somewhat lost trying to find our
way south of the city, though we were headed in generally the correct
direction. We had to make a few repeat
turns before we found the proper entrance onto Route 115 which took us into the
mountains. At one point, we were even
foiled by a sudden traffic jam caused by a gas leak when workers struck a line
ahead of us (and turned everyone back as gas filled the air.)
Eventually though, we found our way
through towards Glencree, which signified our
entrance into the mountainous area known as Wicklow. It was a beautiful area, made even more
dramatic by the weather which seemed to shift between light drizzle and sudden
bursts of sunshine the whole way through.
It's a remarkably desolate area, almost untouched by civilization, less
than an hour south of
The hills were green and wild, broken by
the occasional stream, rocky outcropping, or small lake. Some sheep dotted the landscape here and
there, and these were remarkably unafraid of what little passing traffic there
was. (See the photo Nicci took when a
couple of them posed for us.) Occasional
small groups of tourists could be spotted in the area, and sometimes evidence
of heavy logging would suddenly interrupt a solid forest of trees, but that
aside, the beauty of this region was fresh and unspoiled.
Thick stands of trees would sprout out
here and there, with new growth on the branch-tips lending everything an even
more vibrant green hue. We also passed a
remarkable waterfall which spilled down a steep slope at an outward slant into
a beautiful valley. Unfortunately at Laragh, we turned south immediately towards Carlow and Kilkenny (our destination for the afternoon),
missing the Glendalough Abbey which was a mere one
mile away. Sadly, I didn't read the
specifics about Glendalough Abbey until later that
evening. Described by our guidebook as
“one of the most picturesque settings in
We continued south west through grassy
hillsides and wooded areas. Remarkably
enough, despite the desolate, winding, single-lane roads that twisted through
the Wicklow mountains, we never really got lost in these highlands. Eventually we steered our way towards Carlow, then Kilkenny, which is reputedly an important
place, both historically and aesthetically speaking, representing one of the
finest medieval towns in
By this time though, Nicci was quite
exhausted... we hypothesized at this point, that she was actually sick and not
just suffering from allergies. (We
picked up some Uniflu from a helpful pharmacist
before leaving
It was a nice little drive, and the
countryside in this area was pleasant and picturesque. Inistioge itself is a tiny town of just over
200, sporting a dignified stone church, a quaint grassy town square, and a fine
10-arched stone bridge crossing over the
And what a delicious dinner it was! The Lacken House is prominently featured in
many local magazines and critics circles apparently, and the food was very fine
indeed. It's something I didn't expect
at all in our trip to
We turned in soon after dinner, which
started at
We're hoping to see the fine castle and
surrounding areas of Kilkenny on Friday, the following day.
========================
Kilkenny to
Before I launch into this day's events, I
should make a few observations here.
Firstly, as in most every place outside
the
Secondly, even more so than most other
countries I've been to, I've been surprised by the relative scarcity of big
Thirdly, the people here have been quite
nice. Very nice. People wave as you drive by, particularly in
the quieter towns. Everyone is ready to
beam you a smile it seems. Most
everywhere I've stopped and asked for directions, people seem genuinely happy
to help, and often have a funny or nice quip or two to share while you are
chatting. Odd that such an oft-overcast
or rainy place should have such a cheerful demeanor, but that's the way it is.
Fourthly, whatever their merits, the
Irish cannot make a decent pizza. At
least it seems that way. I obtained a
medium "Italian-style" pizza at a nice-looking bar/pizzeria, which
looked promising enough. The pizza sauce
tasted a little like weak ketchup, the mushrooms and onions were under-done, and the pepperoni... well, let's just say that
I'm sure it WASN'T really pepperoni. I'm
actually not sure what it was, but it didn't even come close to pepperoni. The Irish breakfasts, on the other hand, are
quite good. =)
Fifthly (is that even a word?) -
She described to us the Butler family
which had long held the castle, as well as it's history throughout the years,
and it's recent renovation, whereby the government bought back much of the
furnishings that had been sold auctioned off in years past by previous
inhabitants. She told us of the
lifestyles lead by the nobility, with interesting quips about various pieces of
furniture... like the 4-part love seats which were made for two lovers and
their chaperones, or the small beds made for the smaller people of the time,
who would sit up in them to sleep because of their poor circulation and
respiratory problems.
We walked up some narrow and somewhat
precarious-looking steps, which wound their way up a tower with no apparent
support underneath - which nevertheless have remained intact for hundreds of
years. It was a nice visit, and I was
happy we went.
After a quick lunch in town, and a short
jaunt over to take pictures of St. Candice's cathedral (parts of which were
built over 1000 years ago) in the northern part of Kilkenny, we then headed
south towards Kells Priory.
Kells Priory was a remarkable place, just
south of Kilkenny. Built in the 12th
century, this well-fortified stone-towered Abbey was the scene of some violence
in ages past (though you would scarce believe that by looking at its remains
today.) Much of what I had envisioned
The long-defunct mill was set in a
thickly green setting, built against the bank of a lazy river, which wound its
way down towards the old priory. A
pleasant walk down the riverside took you to the priory ruins, which are open
to the public with no gates and no fee to enter, just a rambling old ruins in
the midst of a sheep-field.
I took plenty of pictures of this remarkable
place before we left. After our visit,
we returned to the car and drove on southward towards the southern coast of
We went all the way south to Dunmore
East, where we chose to spend the night.
Most rooms in this quaint waterside town were already booked, but we
managed to get a room overlooking a little cove, where we could stop and get
some rest. Unfortunately, Nicci still
seems to be fairly sick, though we've gotten various medications at some
pharmacies to help her out, and she's hanging in there fairly well.
It was here I drove around in a quest for
a bite to eat, as Dunsmore East has no take-out (or take-away as they call it)
food to speak of... and at the next town over I found the pizzeria I referred
to earlier. Returning to the room where
Nicci was resting, we had our not-so-great pizza and then got some much-needed
rest, only to be woken up a few times in the wee hours of the morning by
drunken revelers outside.
Around
And now, another day comes, and we're off
to further adventures westward towards the more untamed parts of
=======================
It was a full day today, with lots of
sights and much distance covered...
driving through some of the most beautiful scenery yet, during this
trip.
We had a delicious breakfast this morning
(whatever faults you can find in their pizza, the Irish certainly do know how
to make a good scone), then left the little town of
Despite it being the weekend, and only a
relatively skeletal crew manning the factory, tours were still being taken
through and we decided to take part in the one-hour excursion through the
factory.
It was a fairly wondrous trip through the
factory, as I've never seen real-life glass-blowing being performed. I was torn between taking pictures, gawking
at the glasswork, and listening to our tour guide as he rattled off astonishing
facts and figures about the facility and their work.
Waterford Crystals employs over 1700
people at the center, with a minimum 5 years of crafts-study, then another 3
years of apprenticeship required before you are considered ready to work
glass. To work in the etching and engraving
field, another two years of artwork is required, bringing the total to 10
years. Commissioned pieces, done by
special request for select clients are performed by master craftsmen, who have
a minimum of 30 years training and work under their belt.
Watching the whole process was quite
fascinating, from the beginning where red-hot glowing blobs of glass are spun,
shaped, and blown, to the final etching and engraving stages. Many of these glass-and-lead pieces were
quite large, and very heavy. Most all of
the work on them, post-blowing and shaping, is done by holding the entire piece
against a rapidly spinning stationary diamond-wheel. All the patterns and designs are in the
crafter's head... they follow no drawn
guides, and even the slightest mistake in pressure can cause them to cut right
through the glass or chip it, potentially ruining fifty or more hours of
work. The amount of work that goes into
a single complex piece is often staggering.
(As a side-note, Nicci did notice that
there were no women to be seen amongst the crafters. We did ask if they employed any, and
apparently there are no women glass-blowers, etchers, sculptors, or
engravers... they only work in the design, administrative, or marketing departments. Ostensibly, the reason given us was that the
crystal is quite heavy, which is undeniably true for some pieces. But it's hard to imagine that some women
couldn't be trained to work in the crafting field.)
We did end up purchasing some crystal
pieces at the end of the tour. The prices
were actually very good, tax-free and discounted from what you'd have to pay
abroad. Unfortunately, this is going to
make our luggage that much heavier, given the weight of the lead-heavy crystal.
Speaking of heavier luggage, the next
stop in our journey was
The drive to Cork was pretty... it's hard
to imagine at this point that any of the Irish countryside is not pretty... but
the city itself is something of a shambles.
Industrialized and unlovely,
We stopped by and ate at a greasy-looking
burger and chips joint, which actually served fairly passable food, and then continued on our journey westward to Killarney.
Approaching Killarney, the scenery grew
progressively more picturesque, as Killarney is a major launching point for
many tourist attractions in
Once we were through Killarney, however,
we were rewarded by the remarkably beautiful scenery offered by
Many places in this park were just
picture-perfect scenes of greenery, sheep-dotted slopes, dramatic lakes, and
imposing mountains. It reminded me of a
leafier, more deciduous, less-craggy
After leaving south from the park, we
eventually ended up in Kenmare, which was having an Irish folk-music
celebration of it's own. Kenmare is a pretty little town, situated
near a bay, amidst more lush greenery and small lakes. It was difficult finding a room, as
concertgoers and festival-seekers had filled up most places, but we got lucky
at a nice B&B where a couple of Germans with reservations failed to show
up, leaving us with the available room.
It's a quaint and tastefully-decorated
place, and the proprietor here is very kind and personable. I feel fortunate we found a place to spend
the evening without too much trouble, given the circumstances.
====================
Kenmare to Dingle
Before leaving Kenmare, we took one last
walk through the town center, stopping off at some shops, and dropping off some
postcards. We then went back north,
cutting across the central highlands of the Iveragh peninsula, through rough
and wild Ballaghbeama Gap. The road here, as in other places we've been,
often turned into little more than a dirt road, or a barely-paved lane. Driving in
The rocky and winding way offered many
lovely, if sometimes desolate, views.
There were small lakes dotting the countryside here and there, and of
course, the ever-present sheep. The
whole time, incidentally, we were listening to the same Irish radio station which
we had been tuned into most of this trip.
The music is quite good, with a nice assortment of Irish, English, and
US groups. Mostly geared towards our
generation, but with a slightly different selection than you'd hear in the
States. News broadcasting is also
generally quite good and interesting, though it can get repetitive after
hearing it for hours on end.
After a brief wrong-turn which led us to
a dead-end in a rough valley, we ended up finding our way north to the
We then went onward to Dingle itself,
where we booked a room at the wonderful Milltown House B&B. Maybe a wee bit pricey, but worth every euro... the hosts were very friendly even by Irish
standards, the view of the bay from the room was quite nice, and the room
itself was exquisite.
We took a stop back in Dingle town to Oceanworld, a marine aquarium exhibit, which while somewhat
interesting.... does pale in comparison to the Monterrey Aquarium (or so Nicci
says... I'm sure from all I've heard
that
Afterward, we went to the pier where we
booked a spot on a tour to meet Fungie the Dolphin. I'm not sure of his whole story... but
apparently over a dozen years ago, local fishermen noticed a lone bottlenose
dolphin which took to playing and running alongside the boats as they went out
to sea. This persistent creature has
since become a local celebrity, apparently enjoying greatly the company of
humans, and showing up regularly for the tour boats which now ply the bay here.
We hopped aboard a small boat, which
basically guarantees you a sight of the playful dolphin, and we were not disappointed. After heading out a ways into the bay, and
looking around at the open waters, suddenly Fungie leaped out of the water
right by our corner of the boat. He then
ran alongside us for a good while, with the skipper of the vessel playing with
him, occasionally stopping the engine and coasting, at which times Fungie would
almost certainly come leaping out of the water and then land with a splash.
We did turns and wide curves around the
water, and Fungie would pop up here and there... making appearances all over the place,
keeping you guessing about where he would next leap into the air. It was very cool, and made me wonder what
goes through Fungie's head during these times. How did he come to be so fond of playing
around with people? Perhaps later we'll
pick up a book about him.
After an hour or so, we headed back to
dock, ending our exciting and picturesque little jaunt. We had some rather passable Indian food back
in town, then came back to Milltown House, where I read Angela's Ashes and
Nicci read her latest Harry Potter book until we fell asleep.
=======================
Dingle to the Burrens,
It's now the morning after and we're set
to leave on a tour around the western end of Dingle peninsula, which is reputed
to be some of the most interesting parts of the country to visit. We've booked a tour with a fellow (who I seem
to have awoken from a groggy sleep) which will take us
on a two-hour circuit of the Slea Head drive here.
It's with a twinge of wistful thought I
leave this place, as Dingle is such a pretty place, and our accommodations are
so nice, easily the nicest we've had so far in this country. The host at Milltown House is positively
delightful to talk to... with his
singsong Irish accent, and ready quips.
He keeps asking after Nicci's health, and chiding her to have some hot
whiskey as a remedy. Breakfast was
absolutely delicious – marvelously prepared and beautifully laid out, with
local flowers and herbs serving as garnish and eye-candy.
Our host entertained us and the other
guests with jokes and observations of the area as he efficiently served us our
tasty meal. I do wish we had another day
to stay here, but perhaps it'll just have to wait ‘til another visit
someday. (I've noticed a pattern with me, that everywhere I go, I always plan future visits... as
if I could never get enough of certain places.)
And now, we really should be off to meet
our tour guide, who is going to pick us up at the Fungie the Dolphin statue at
the pier. More to come
later.
***
Our driver picked us up, as planned, by
the brass Fungie. He was a pleasant
enough fellow, with thinning grey hair in a ponytail, thickly built, driving
his blue Citroen. After brief
introductions, Billy (I believe that was his name) headed off towards Sliegh Head drive on this beautiful sunny morning,
describing the sites of the area for us.
He told us of the inhabitants of this
area at the time... people who lived in
The skill of stacking the rocks out here
is apparently an art-form of sorts to the locals. No mortar is used - the rocks are simply
stacked on each other to form walls which are thick and stable enough to stand
the centuries on these windy slopes. Our
first stop was in front of a remarkable stone building, stacked and built in
recent years by a fellow who now ran a restaurant in it!
We walked down from this spot to the
remains of a stone fort which was built on a sheer cliffside,
overlooking the
Our next stop was up the road a ways, at
another cluster of stone beehive-like huts.
(See pictures for more detail)
These beehives dotted the countryside in this area, but here was a
particularly accessible concentration, built on private property... or rather I
should say the private property had been built on the site (it was common for
modern-day folk to build their homes near the ancient stone huts, which could
serve as an instant spare shed)
We were greeted at the entryway by a
cheery old woman, who called out to Billy in a bright Irish greeting. The western coast in this region is one of
the last bastions of the Gaeltacht, or Irish-speaking country. She collected a couple of euros from us, and
we were allowed to walk on her property to observe the huts.
Upon returning from this viewing, Billy
entertained us with some stories about the old woman. She is friendly towards the visitors, and
often invites them in for tea. He told us
of a time when a couple of visitors from the
"A simple old Irish woman, she is
not," quipped Billy.
He then told us another story of a couple
he took recently on a tour of this area.
The couple was from
Fed up with it all in the end, Billy
asked the man calmly, “Would you prefer to walk back then?” and stopped the
car. Apparently the man’s very
embarrassed wife kept apologizing for him at this point and said he was just
kidding. I think eventually they managed
to finish the tour somehow, though Billy didn’t get a chance to specify… by
this point I even found myself apologizing for this jerk – and I told Billy I
hoped he didn’t think such people were representative of all Americans. In his typical good-natured lilt, Billy just
replied “Oh no problem at all, you can find assholes in every corner of
Our next stop was near the western tip of
the
The views in this area are breathtaking,
the islands, the ocean, and the beautiful
There was a lot to take in, and it was a
very interesting tour. Eventually, Billy
returned us to Dingle town where he suggested a couple of pubs where we could
get lunch and a pint, and we bid him goodbye.
Lunch was very good indeed, where we had
a meal of fish, and thick Irish lamb stew (as well as trying a bit of hot whiskey
for nicci's cold... which we couldn't manage to quite drink up.)
We shopped around a bit as well, and
tried to go to the pub which Billy suggested for a drink, which was half
hardware store and half pub (a REAL Irish pub he called it.) We went in briefly, but ended up leaving...
it was a depressing place, filled with genuinely drunk locals. Speaking of pubs, it's a pattern we've
noticed here while driving around. The
most common site you'll see in the Irish countryside is a little village
consisting of little more than an old stone church, and a few pubs strung
together with a couple other buildings.
Your average little hamlet or town might have five buildings in it
altogether, and three of them will be pubs.
Remarkable.
We finally left Dingle and drove north,
taking our car into a ferry at Tarbert which crossed
the
Driving north, we eventually reached the
Cliffs of Moher, another locale you'll find pictured
on postcards everywhere, depicting the sheer cliffs which overlook the
A few more miles north, and we finally
ended our long day at tiny town of
It was a hectic place, and a boy barely
in his teens working there managed to spill a warm cup of tea on my hand,
startling me as I spoke to a bartender about a meal. As they apologized to me about that, and
about being fresh out of fish, I asked them what I could order that I could get
take-away. Eventually, they sent me
packing off with two foil-wrapped pie-tins of Irish beef stew, and accompanying
silverware, which they were not even supposed to loan me. Nice folk.
I drove about a bit more, taking a few
pictures of the pretty sunset and a nearby castle-tower, then returned to our
room where we read late into the night.
(Nicci actually finished the immensely thick Harry Potter book this
evening.)
=======================
Doolin
to
The next morning started with another
Irish breakfast... well, for me at least.
Most every day, at every B&B we've stayed at, I choose to have the
traditional Irish breakfast. Feels right
to me somehow, and it's quite tasty (and not so different from a breakfast in
the
We left Doolin
and headed north into the heart of the Burren area... which is one of the major
sights to see in this region of
In somewhat startling contrast to the
lush greenery of most of Ireland, this area is so rocky that it looks almost
like a moonscape in comparison – at least a moon where tough patches of grass
seep out of cracks and crannies in the stone to cling on to some semblance of
life.
Despite the desolation, it's an oddly
beautiful place to me. To borrow heavily
from my guidebook, one of Cromwell's generals was moved to exclaim,
"There's neither water enough to drown a man, nor
a tree to hang him, nor soil enough to bury him." It's a perfect description.
It was in this desolate setting that we
saw the Pulnabrone Dolmen, one of
Precarious as the structure seems, it
must have been quite sturdy enough to last the millennia, and we take a few
pictures around and even under the thing.
We then continued our journey north through the Burren and on to
Our next stop was at Kinvara,
in the northern area of the Burren.
Despite its desolate appearance, this region supported a remarkable
number of settlements, and castles dot the countryside. Or at least the remains of castles... most everywhere you go you can spot
structures in various states of disrepair, sometimes wholly intact, sometimes
with little more than a wall remaining standing. At Kinvara,
however, there is a fine smaller castle still standing, which is solid enough
to still enter and climb to the top, with a marvelous view of the surrounding
area (the Dungaire Castle, which has stood here for
hundreds of years, and inhabited as recently as the 1970s.)
After a brief stop in a pub/restaurant
called Keough in Kinvara
(where they served delicious fish and chips, and other food) we continued
eastward, bypassing Galway itself, and back towards central Ireland (so as to
make the next day's drive back to Dublin that much shorter.)
We stopped off finally at Athlone, a town
built on the shores of the River Shannon, at the southern end of Lough Ree. Like most other towns we've been to, Athlone
consists of newer settlements surrounding an old medieval center, which is
obviously marked by its narrow, winding streets and much older buildings. The town center sports a fairly impressive
looking cathedral and a heavy stone castle, probably the most formidable and
solid-looking I've seen yet. Overlooking
the river like a huge, hulking sentinel, thick, round towers rise up
imposingly, and the bottom of the walls flare out at the base probably several
meters thick. (see
picture)
We checked in to a small B&B in the
center of town, which has a tiny room open at the very top of the house. It's a bit cramped, but cozy enough, and does
nicely for us. We watch TV and read the
rest of the day away... and as Nicci is feeling pretty under-the-weather, I go
out for a short walk around town and stop at the Tribecca
restaurant for a pizza.
Yes, a pizza... despite our bad pizza
experience a few days ago, our guidebook indicates that Athlone is something of
a cullinary mecca of
central
She tells me that Nicci's symptoms are
hardly surprising, as June is typically a high-pollen season here in
The pizza is finally done, and I thank
her for her advice and take the food back to our room. We're not dissapointed
at all by the pizza... which was hand-tossed and made with fine sauce. Happily full, I read the sad Angela's Ashes
late into the night, then finally went to sleep.
==================
Athlone to
Our last full day here in Ireland, and I
start feeling that familiar happy-but-sad feeling that inevitably always comes
as a trip overseas comes to a close. I
look forward to getting back home, full internet access, the familiarity of
things, my own bed, getting Nicci away from Irelands potent allergens... but on the flipside, I'm sad the vacation is
drawing to a close, sad to be leaving beautiful Ireland, sad that there were
still other things I would have loved to see, had we the time.
After checking out of our Athlone
B&B, we stopped by the nearby castle to have a walk inside, admire the
impressive fortifications, take some pictures, then head on to Dublin, just a
couple of hours away.
The drive to
We arrive at
The food is, once again, delicious. I make a mental note to recommend the Eliza
Lodge restaurant heartily to the Lonely Planet guidebook, as the food and
service is excellent, if slightly pricey.
After lunch, we walk a few blocks over to
The tour is not disappointing. Led by a casually dressed fellow, who is
indeed a student of the college part-timing as a guide... we are told the various histories of the
buildings around us at the campus.
His delivery is quite good, and his
routine is both funny and informative, with commendable clarity and dry
wit. He rattles off the illustrious history
of the school, as well as very famous alumni, and items of architectural
interest, sometimes throwing in brief glimpses of what life on the campus was
like a few centuries ago. Each building
has a history of it's own, the earliest built in the
1600s, when much of this area was still swampy land. He tells us of one of the
more recent Provosts who ran the school, who, near the turn of the last
century, declared that women would only attend
Apart from other points of interest, our
guide also points out two enormous trees, imported from
Our tour ends at the Long Library, a
structure that houses not only the famous Book of Kells, but also is the heart
of a massive collection of books that is housed at this campus. The place is awash with books, with
Of course, not all of these can be kept
at the campus anymore, but the main collections are still there, with others
placed at archive centers around
Our guide also tells us of the Book of
Kells itself, which apart from being one of the most important ancient books in
the world, also has quite an interesting history as well, having survived the
centuries in various hands, from monks who first created it, to various keepers
who cared for it during Irelands tumultuous history. There was even one point where the book was
lost altogether, and turned up in a farmers field
somewhere, before being returned to the authorities.
The book is wondrously illustrated, with
colorful pictures and flourishing letters made with materials from all over the
world. It's a fairly huge book,
especially if one considers the size of people over 1000 years ago. It's fairly incredible the book, written and
illustrated on calfskin,
is in such good shape after so much time.
After the college, we head over to the
famed Guinness Brewery for a quick tour and a complimentary pint of the frothy
black brew after we finish. The
"tour" itself is something of a disappointment. Considering the fairly hefty entry fee, it's
unfortunate that there is no guided tour at all, only a walk around an oddly
built showcase facility which is composed mostly of empty space, hugely printed
letters on the walls, self-guided mini-displays which feature taped narratives
about the brewery.
On the whole, the experience is a bit odd
and a bit dull, which is a shame since the brewery undoubtedly has a very
interesting history, having operated at these premises since the 1700s (and
Arthur Guinness had actually signed a lease for the land holding it for 9000
years!) The pint at the end of our
self-guided tour, however, was of course excellent. Hard to get a fresher pint of Guinness than
at the source itself, and the view from the top of the slightly garish building
was excellent... being a sky-bar with a 360-degree glass-covered view of
It
was a pretty full day, and despite the sounds of revelry, Irish dance, drunken
singing, and occasional 80s and even techno music emanating from the streets
below, we slept pretty well until we had to get up early the next morning to
catch our flight back home.
814 miles in 8 days – it’s been a grand
journey and a memorable visit. Like any
good vacation,