Wednesday, June 18, 2003

Dublin, Ireland

 

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 San Francisco yesterday on a very cramped flight with Continental Airlines.  The people working the ticket counters were slow, inefficient, and generally very haggard in appearance.  It wasn't exactly a great start.  The flight to Newark was most uncomfortable, and completely full.  The fellow sitting next to us, aside from being rather large and talkative, was also predisposed to complaining about everything whenever he was awake.

 

We were told at SFO that the Newark-to-Dublin flight was oversold, and that they couldn't tell us what seats we would have.  No explanation was given, just a gruff nod and a "shoo-go-away" look that served to irritate me even more.  Our flight to Newark also took off a half hour late, then was slow in getting to Newark.  What should have been a leisurely 2-hour layover turned into a frantic, tiring, half-sprint through the airport to get to our connecting international flight.

 

Thankfully, we made it aboard, where things started to look up for us.  The flight from Newark to Dublin was much more pleasant, in a newer plane with more comfortable seats.  The trip was pretty uneventful.

 

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 Dublin.  However, as we descended for our landing, we suddenly broke through this layer, and were greeted by the vibrant greenery of Ireland.  Even near the airport, it was a pretty sight from the air.

 

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 Dublin, within the hour.

 

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 Dublin are a bit on the narrow and twisty side, and they can be difficult to navigate - as lanes sometimes merge, split, or altogether disappear, with little warning.  (Particularly as you get closer to the city center, where the maze of streets is probably still loosely based on medieval road-systems)  To make matters worse, streets have a bizarre way of changing names every other block or so... and a single street can have 4 different names within 7 different blocks… making navigating by map pretty difficult.

 

Eventually though, we found our way through Dublin into the Temple Bar district, where the Eliza Lodge was located.  Parking (and maneuvering room) on the streets was scarce, almost non-existent it seemed in many places, so we found a parking garage to leave our car.  By the way, all the literature I've read from our guidebook indicates that car theft and all sorts of minor burglary are quite commonplace... particularly in Dublin.  I'm hoping we'll find plenty of staffed "car-parks" here.

 

The lady who checked us in at Eliza Lodge was very friendly and helpful.  It's a cute place, overlooking the Liffey River, which bisects the city into the somewhat rundown northern half, and the more affluent southern region.  The rooms are small, but clean and very well laid-out.  After having a quick Irish breakfast (bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns, an odd "pudding", beans, and toast.) - we went back to our room and promptly fell asleep for several hours, trying to snooze away our intense jet-lag.

 

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 Dublin).  We eventually made our way to the Palace Bar, an old-style Dublin pub that we read about in our guidebook.

 

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 10:00pm, as Nicci and I were both still tired, and unfortunately plagued with allergies as well.  I'm hoping this doesn't put too much of a damper to our trip.  It was still light out, being so far north I suppose, that the sun sets close to 11:00pm by my best guess.

 

We wandered through the Temple Bar district, back to our lodge.  People were milling about now, with much drunken revelry going on in pubs and cafe's the whole way back.  Drunken Irish songs could be clearly heard from outside many establishments, ranging from authentic to gaudy.  Ale-soaked carousing is not exactly my cup of tea, but it was fun to observe nonetheless.

 

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 Wicklow Way to Kilkenny.  Much more to see and describe, but for now, I'm getting too tired to really do much more than think of sleep.  Until tomorrow then.

 

 

 

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Thursday, June 19th, 2003

Dublin to Kilkenny, Ireland

 

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 Dublin in the first place.

 

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 Dublin.

 

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 Ireland, and the site of one of the most significant ancient monastic settlements in the country” – I was pretty crushed that we had driven right by without ever stopping.  C'est la vie.

 

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 Ireland.

 

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 Dublin.)  We checked in at the stately Lacken House B&B, with its elegant rooms and award-winning meals.  Nicci promptly fell asleep and I went out on a little jaunt south to the delightful little town of Inistioge.

 

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 Nore River.  After taking a few pictures and taking in the scenery, I headed back to the Lacken House where we had our dinner.

 

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 Ireland, very fine cuisine - on par with anything you'd find in Paris or California.  The service was great, and it was overall quite an excellent experience.

 

We turned in soon after dinner, which started at 7:00 and went on 'til nearly 10:00pm.  I realize more and more as I travel around the world, that people in the U.S. seem almost unique in eating their dinners so early in the afternoon.  Most everywhere else I've been now, 7:00pm is considered early for dinner.

 

We're hoping to see the fine castle and surrounding areas of Kilkenny on Friday, the following day.

 

 

 

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Friday, June 20th, 2003

Kilkenny to Dunsmore East, Ireland

 

Before I launch into this day's events, I should make a few observations here.

 

Firstly, as in most every place outside the U.S. I've been to, I'm struck by the absence of strip-malls, SUV's, and superstores.  A Costco would truly be something odd to see.  Everything seems much smaller in scale, from the little specialty shops, to their narrow, winding roads.  While you will see the occasional SUV here, they would seem distinctly impractical in a place where most roads seem barely adequate to fit two mini-cars side-by-side, and where the gas costs around $4/gallon.

 

Secondly, even more so than most other countries I've been to, I've been surprised by the relative scarcity of big U.S. chain stores... particularly McDonalds.  Oh, I've seen a couple, but it's not like China or France where they sprout everywhere like weeds.  What you DO see everywhere are B&B's and pubs.  Everywhere.

 

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?) - Ireland is awash with Special Olympics festivities.  Maybe it's because it's such a relatively small country, or maybe it's just that they like to celebrate, but signs of the Special Olympics are everywhere here.  Every town of even marginal size here seems to have been assigned a host country... and often little towns are festooned with the flags of foreign nations, such as Italy, Philippines, or even Iran.  It often lends a very celebratory air to these places as we drive on through.

 

Kilkenny Castle was a nice little visit - we took the guided tour which lasted nearly an hour.  This castle lies near the center of medieval Kilkenny, right alongside the western bank of the Nore River.  Surrounded by a well-kept sprawling park to the south, river to the east, and a pleasingly designed, brightly-colored rose-garden just to the north, the large stone castle itself forms an imposing and grand-looking structure that overlooks the surrounding area.  Our friendly guide started off her tour with traditional greetings spoken in Irish, and then continued on describing various aspects of the remarkable castle in English, with that familiar, lilting Irish accent.

 

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 Ireland to be like, I found here in this pastoral landscape.  It was a beautifully sunny day, with a mild warm breeze, and sheep dotting a placid countryside.  Winding through the tiny hamlet of Kells, and crossing over the Kings River, we wound up at the old Kells Mill, which leads to the priory itself.

 

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 Ireland, past the garish city of Waterford (of Waterford Crystals fame.)

 

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 3am, already awake anyways, I went out to take some pictures of the distant lighthouse across the bay, which apparently is the oldest in Ireland, and one of the oldest still in operation in the world.  Not sure how the long-exposure night-pictures will turn out, but I am hopeful.

 

And now, another day comes, and we're off to further adventures westward towards the more untamed parts of Ireland.

 

 

 

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Saturday, June 21st, 2003

Waterford to Kenmare, Ireland

 

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 Dunsmore East heading back towards the garish town of Waterford. As we were passing right by the Waterford Crystal factory (so world-renowned even I have heard of them) we decided to stop and see what the fuss was all about, and we pulled in to take a look.

 

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 Cork, in southwestern Ireland, where Nicci's luggage gained the weight of exactly one, rather massive, hardbound copy of the latest Harry Potter book, Order of the Phoenix.  (The UK version of the book which we picked up is apparently quite different in appearance and form to the US version.)  I'm sure Potter-Mania is gripping the English-speaking world right now, but it seems even more prevalent here in Ireland... where you can't escape mention of the book in every corner shop and over the airwaves on radio and TV.  Alas, the countdown to release is finally over, and now Nicci has additional reading material for the trip.  =)

 

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, Cork seemed to me to look like a picture of decayed industry whereas Waterford was more representative of newer industry (and both equally unattractive.)  Even the people of Cork seemed more downtrodden, less friendly, with a depressed sort of edge to them.

 

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 Kerry County, in the southwestern portion of Ireland.  The city itself was very crowded, with tourists riding along in horse-drawn buggies, and thronging the sidewalks.  But the congestion was mostly due to a concert that apparently was being held that evening, I think Nicci mentioned it might have been the Counting Crows, but I'm not certain.  Whatever the group, they sure had a big draw...  pulling in concertgoers from all over the place apparently, booking up rooms full in the city, and causing massive traffic jams which we had to sit through in order to get through town.

 

Once we were through Killarney, however, we were rewarded by the remarkably beautiful scenery offered by Killarney National Park, which you had to drive through on the way to Kenmare, our final destination for the day.

 

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 Yosemite.  Beautiful indeed, and I literally had to fight the urge to stop the car every few feet to take pictures and absorb the scenery.  I'll let the pictures we took speak for themselves.  (By the way, the hills and the roads were often occupied by the cutest little sheep, most of whom acted completely oblivious to our cars... just lazily munching on the lush greenery while we gawked and took pictures.  While I resisted the urge to keep taking endless pictures, Nicci had to resist the urge to pick up some of the smaller, cuter, sheeplings and take them with us.)

 

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. 

 

 

====================

Sunday, June 22nd, 2003

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 Ireland, even more than other countries, really changes your perception on what a decent road is.  A simple street with a line painted down the middle to divide the traffic going either way, starts to look like a freeway in comparison to all the one-lane, unmarked country roads.  Two lanes going in either direction looks like a superhighway after a while (and is exceedingly rare).

 

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 Dingle Peninsula.  A funny name, but a beautiful locale indeed, we traveled along the south coast of this strip of land, which offered some nice views of the Dingle Bay to the south.  There was even a drive-down beach at Inch, where we stopped for a break.

 

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 Monterrey is just hard to beat for that sort of thing.)  Still, it's an interesting enough place, with a couple of loggerhead turtles, sharks, various skates and rays in a touch-tank, and other marine life on display.

 

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.

 

 

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Monday, June 23, 2003

Dingle to the Burrens, Ireland

 

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 Ireland even before the time of the Celts, possibly driven here by Celtic expansion further east.  Here they lived on these slopes, facing the Atlantic to the west, the westernmost region of Europe.  These were estimated to be Bronze-to-Iron Age settlements, dating over 500 BC.  The grassy hillsides were often littered with hand-sized and larger flat rocks, which the people pushed aside and stacked, forming long-running fences on the hillsides, often looking like large, stony veins which spread out with no apparent pattern, dividing the area into oddly-shaped fields.

 

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 Bay of Dingle to the south.  There was a beehive-style interior stone ring-fort, guarded by a higher stone wall, under which a hidden passageway ran back up the hillside (usable for bringing in supplies or in times of trouble, as an escape route).  Like the restaurant, the entire structure was built simply of stacked rocks, tightly packed with no mortar or cement, which had stood here over the centuries.

 

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 U.S. told her she should come visit the States sometime.  She replied that she'd rather not... and that she'd prefer to go somewhere that she doesn't already visit every year.  Another group of visitors asked her if she had ever met any celebrities visiting out here, she then proceeded to pull out a photo-album, with pictures of Tom Cruise, Nicole Kidman, and various other celebrities contained therin.

 

"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 New York, and the man in particular was Irish-American.  Soon as they started the tour, the man started asking Billy how he felt about the Iraqi war.  Billy of course evaded the question as long as he could, then he answered honestly, “Well, we Irish don’t put much faith in any politicians anymore… we’ve been fooled too many times, and we just don’t trust them.  But I’ll wager if Bush came here today, he’d not be too popular.”  Well that set the man off instantly, with him yelling that “that’s what’s wrong with you people!” and carrying on about Europeans and foreigners in general.  Billy and the man’s mortified wife just tried their best to calm him down, and they continued the tour.  Later on, the man remarked that the car they were in was pretty comfortable, and asked what type it was.  Knowing he was in trouble again, Billy replied, “It’s a Citroen” – then once again had to endure another tirade from the uncouth man, who went on and on about the French, exclaiming loudly that had he known he would be riding in French cars there in Ireland (of which there are plenty) – he never would have come at all.

 

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 Ireland as well!”

 

Our next stop was near the western tip of the Dingle Peninsula, facing the Blasket Islands which were visible off the coast at a distance.  These islands now serve only as visiting areas during the summers, though for generations past, people actually lived on them.  The government decided to finally move the last inhabitants off these islands a few years back, as all the younger folk had already since left, and the last residents were a handful of old people in their 80s and higher, who had refused to leave.

 

The views in this area are breathtaking, the islands, the ocean, and the beautiful Dingle Peninsula itself.  We continue driving, stopping at various beaches and structures along the way, where Billy explains the various sites, from the diving fishing-birds (gannets) off the shore, to a stone building built in the likeness of an inverted Viking ship-hull - built by early Christians there in the 7th century.

 

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 Shannon River, putting us now in County Clare.

 

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 Atlantic Ocean to the west.  We stopped at the area where you are allowed to walk along the cliffs themselves, looking down to the sea far, far below.  There were many people here who, despite signs warning against it, crossed the boundaries to stand right at the edge of the sheer cliffs themselves.  Crazy I thought them - perhaps the pictures I took will convey how dangerous this looked to the casual observer.  It made me dizzy to just watch them walking there along the edge, with precipice several hundred feet stretching below.

 

A few more miles north, and we finally ended our long day at tiny town of Doolin.  We checked into a room here, and I went to forage for food, which I found at O'Connor's pub, a lively and atmospheric place which served a busy crowd of people, even this Monday evening.

 

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.)

 

 

 

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Tuesday, June 24th, 2003

Doolin to Athlone, Ireland

 

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 US either.)  You typically have two sausages (taste sortof like luncheon meat), a slab or two of bacon (thick, meaty slabs...  more like ham or pork-chop slices almost, rather than the skinny strips we have in the US), an egg or two (usually sunny-side up or over-easy), a tomato, toast, and a white and black pudding (the pudding doesn't really look like pudding at all.. at least by my definition.  It's more like a small cake, looks like a slice of sausage, but made out of some sort of meal and flour.  I didn't care for them much at first, but now I find myself eating them always, and rather liking them... for a round piece of dough, they taste rather meaty... and I wonder if they're made perhaps with animal fat.)

 

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 Ireland.  Boireann is the Irish word for "rocky country" - and that's almost something of an understatement for this place.  The Burren's limestone hills were thinly covered with soil thousands of years ago, but those earliest settlers had cleared the woodlands, causing massive erosion and exposing great expanses of limestone which are visible today.

 

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 Ireland's most famous ancient monuments.  Not terribly huge (stands slightly taller than myself) it is nevertheless a ponderous thing, being a large slab of rock, mounted precariously on standing stones amidst a rocky field in the middle of the Burren.  Built approximately 5000 years ago, the top slab apparently weighs over five tones, and looking at it, one wonders at the difficulty of lifting such a thing.  It makes me want to see Stonehenge someday, and the even more massive stones that are used there.

 

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 County Galway.

 

 

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 Ireland, which prides itself on the quality of it's food, even "foreign" food.  Tribecca proves to be a pleasant place, with a friendly firey-haired bartender who happily chats with me while I'm waiting for the pizza to be made.

 

She tells me that Nicci's symptoms are hardly surprising, as June is typically a high-pollen season here in Ireland, and this year is particularly bad... or so she heard on the news recently.  She recommended some herbal remedies, at the Honey Pot across town.  As we're leaving the country soon, we may not need to stop off there at this point, but it's good information to know anyway.

 

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.

 

 

 

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Wednesday, June 25th, 2003

Athlone to Dublin, Ireland

 

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 Dublin is uneventful.  Most of the way we're still on a two-lane road, only a single lane in either direction, but it's wide, well-marked, and we make pretty good time.

 

We arrive at Dublin early in the afternoon, and check into the Fitzsimons Hotel, just across the street from the Eliza Blues Lodge where we spent our first night in Dublin, over a week ago.  We check in, leave our bags, then cross the street over to the Eliza Blues restaurant for a bit of lunch.

 

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 Trinity College, Dubin's most prestigious school, and reputedly a beautiful place to visit.  We buy tickets for a brief tour of the campus, and wait in the front courtyard for the guide to show up.  A rather young couple is getting married in one of the large halls there, and we watch the scene amongst other onlookers, and take pictures of the area while waiting.

 

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 Trinity College over his dead body.  Ironically enough, in 1902, he was forced to finally admit women to the university, and two hours later, promptly dropped dead.  He was buried on the school grounds themselves, and quite literally, the first female students of the school did actually walk over his dead body.

 

Apart from other points of interest, our guide also points out two enormous trees, imported from Oregon in the 1800s, which have thrived and taken on immense proportions.

 

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 Trinity College being one of four institutions which is entitled to a copy of every single book published in the United Kingdom.  This results in a collection that grows at the rate of 75,000 books a year, with a massive archive that now numbers over five million books.

 

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 Dublin.  The Long Library itself houses the most ancient of the books.  The library is something of a staggering sight, being housed under a single, long, barreled ceiling, a long hall that reminded me of the interior of a cathedral, lined top to bottom with very old tomes.  I bought a poster and some postcards that may give some sense of what this looks like.

 

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 Dublin.  We stayed awhile, enjoying the view, then returned back to our hotel.

 

 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, Ireland not only exceeded my expectations, but also left me thirsting for more, perhaps in the not-so-far-flung future.  Until then though, I have this journal to look through, and the pictures we’ve taken, to conjure up the pictures of beautiful Ireland.