Leaving

It's hard to go home. If I weren't going back to Luke, I'm not sure I could get on the plane. I haven't seen enough of Ireland, haven't gotten nearly my fill, and there's part of me that feels like I'm leaving home. 

I'm not sure what it is that I like so much here. Dublin is really neat, but it's not the prettiest or liveliest city I've ever been in. New York City and Seattle are. The country is beautiful and green, with rolling hills, horses, cows, and sheep, but Kentucky is prettier in that regard. I think it's the history of Ireland that gets me, the mystery and discovery surrounding everything. I could live here and explore every day of my life and still see something new and interesting til my dying day. But there's something more, something that just feels like home in Ireland, and I can't figure out just what it is. Even after finding out I have distant Irish roots, that's not quite it. I have distant roots in a lot of places, but there's something really special about Ireland. 

I don't know how soon, but I know I will be back. 

The Cliffs of Moher & The Burren

Day 5

Today I packed up and boarded a bus to the Cliffs of Moher. Before we even got out of town we passed an old stone house, painted white, with a thatched roof. Our guide told us people still live in thatched roof houses, but it's getting to be less common because it's hard to get insurance due to the fire hazard. He told us that houses with thatched roof only burned "turf," aka pete moss from the bogs, for exactly that reason because it didn't ever spark, it only ever smoldered. And apparently, bread made fresh in a stove heated by turf is the best bread ever tasted, no comparison. Some people still bake a loaf a day, in the old ways. Some people have opted out of electricity and running water, too, to keep in the old ways because, "that's how they were reared," our guide said. The history kept alive in the country of Ireland is astounding, and that's only the beginning.

Around every corner, every bend, the history culture of Ireland is strong. Even amidst nothing big green expanses of farm fields with dry stone walls running through at odd angles, there might be a cairn, a large, tall stack of rocks piled up high, which is an ancient burial site.

We stopped at one farm field, seemingly like the rest, with fat cows grazing everywhere, only this particular pasture has a dolmen in it. It was Poulnabrone Dolmen. We let ourselves in through a cattle guard gate and followed the signed path through the cattle to the dolmen. The cows didn't heed us any attention, clearly used to people. We were free to walk around the pasture, and around the dolmen, yet another ancient burial site. Dolmens are typically not as old as cairns, we learned, but are still pretty ancient. 

I found myself staring vigilantly out the window, keeping a sharp eye out for cairns, dolmens, and fairy trees. Our guide regaled us with stories of faery trees, thought to be the home of hidden Fae, or fairies, which bring bad luck on any who mess with them. Some farmers even build walls or fences around ones they find on their land, to prevent their animals from touching them and getting sick. They can't be removed, it brings bad luck. One man built a business over a cleared faery tree and it was so unsuccessful he lost everything he owned, fell into hard times and drugs, and is now in jail. 

When the road to Ennis was being built, it was delayed for 2 years because every time anybody tried to dig up a fairy tree in the path of the future road and remove it, the machine would quit working. They fixed the machine, they brought in other machines, but the same problem befell them all. Finally the road was rerouted around the tree, and that is the only reason why the road to Ennis winds where it could be straight. You can still see the tree, it is still there. 

All faery trees are Hawthorne trees, but if you break a branch off a faery tree and look you'll see pink, whether it's a white hawthorn or black hawthorn. That's the only way you can tell. I saw lots of Hawthorne trees, but only a few walled or roped off. Some were amid brushy stands of trees along the edges of fields, lots stood alone in a field by themselves but were not roped off, but only once in awhile was one (barricaded). In one field there was a faery circle, a perfect circle of faery trees, evenly spaced, of exactly the same height and stature. It stood among a lush green field barren of animals, beautiful and intriguing. 

Our first official stop was to Dunguaire Castle, which actually isn't a castle but a very old Norse watchtower. It was the first of a few along the way. We arrived at low tide to see a handful of Hookers, the term for the traditional fishing work boats, sailboats, now bottomed out and cocked over on their sides, or balancing strangely upright on their keel, among the rocks and seaweed. One spot incongruously gushed water from higher up on the bank. I chalked it up to low tide rushing out, but it turned out to be a spot where a river, made from water that seeped into the limestone of the Burren, fed into the ocean.

We passed the site where a kid unearthed a gold collar (it kind of resembles a large horseshoe) that dates back to 1000BC! It is now on display in the National Museum in Dublin. I wish I had a few more days so I could tour some more around here, and do more in Dublin, like visit the museums. Heck, I wish I had weeks, if not months, more in Ireland. I want to spend Christmas here with Luke. I want to tour everywhere!

The tour bus passed by a 12th century abbey, called Corcamroe Abbey, which I stupidly didn't get a picture of because I thought we'd be stopping. We didn't. I have to go back! It was so cool!!! Except for the lack of roof, it looked to be in perfect condition. 

We passed even more ancient sites as we went. We passed an earthen ring fort, a circular ring 3000 years old, once surrounded by moat. The one we stopped to look at didn't have an outer ring, but some of them do. It's thought that the outer ring is where the families that lived inside put their livestock at night, versus the one we were looking at in which livestock and residents would have all been in the same room together at night. Like so many things around the countryside, it was astounding evidence of the ancient Celts, casually situated among grazing cattle and lovely homes. 

In the 9th century, it seems the Celts upgraded from earthen forts to stone forts, of which there are over 500 in the Burren area alone. We passed one of those too, but didn't stop. 

We continued up through the Burren, a unique area of all limestone in which a few manmade grazing fields reside. Once upon a time farmers hauled clay, sand, and seaweed up into the area, mixed it all together, and created fertile soil from it. Cattle and sheep graze there still, and based on the nice houses it seems people have made a comfortable living there. 

Our last stop before lunch was Kilfenora, an old church housing high crosses, aka Celtic crosses. Many of the graves date back hundreds of years, and some date back only a few decades or less. Only families who have family buried in the graveyard can be buried there, and yet there are new graves, which speaks to how longstanding the genial lines in the area are. 

For lunch we stopped at a pub in Doolin, a colorful fishing town of thatched roof buildings, and I had the best seafood chowder I've ever had! With chunks of salmon, whitefish, and whole muscles freshly shelled, in a wonderfully creamy broth, it was amazing. 

Finally, after lunch, we moved on to the Cliffs of Moher, where we had a whole hour and a half to wander around. I walked up and down, both directions, taking pictures and looking for Puffins. As per my usual luck, I saw no unordinary birds. Even so, it was refreshing to be in the chill of the salty air. I took a few pictures and stared out at the Aran Islands, 3 islands home to a few rough fishing towns, where people still speak Gaelic. The Aran islands get the harshest weather of Ireland, maybe even of Europe. They're the buffer islands off the coast of Galway, open to the Atlantic and the severe storms that tear through. 

We were lucky to only have a slight wind, maybe 10 knots sustained with gusts to 15. Our tour guide told us to beware of the winds, as they can change very quickly. He told us of a time in 2013 when he had a group of 27 out there with very little wind, when suddenly the wind picked up. Before long it was sustained at 70mph, and gusting much higher. The Rangers had to assist them in getting back to the bus. They had to lock arms and work as a team to get through the wind, in a similar manner to fording a river, though they were perfect strangers. Miraculously they all made it back to the bus. But on the way out, a particularly strong gust hit the bus head on and lifted the whole thing up, and set it back down at a different angle! They later learned that gust was clocked at 135mph. Luck was on their side, because they survived that too, but he said it just goes to show how crazy the winds can get. They're unpredictable, they pick up quickly, and they come from all sides. Luck was on our side, too, because the wind never picked up.

Just about the time I was getting cold, it was time to get back on the bus. It was starting to get dark, so I put my camera away. Shortly after dark I fell asleep, and didn't wake up until we arrived back in Galway. I then hiked the block over from the bus station to the train station, and am now enroute back to Dublin. I fly out tomorrow morning, and I'm not ready to go. There's still so much to see! I will be back!

Day 4

Galway is a neat town. Today I wandered inland, toward the university and the cathedral, and I stumbled upon a castle. It seemed to be part of the university, full of offices, but it also had a museum type attraction called "The Human Brain," that mothers and their children were flocking to. I felt like a creeper being a lone adult among all those small children, so I didn't go in. Instead I wandered around the inner courtyard and around the outside. Then I continued on toward the cathedral.

Since it's Sunday, I didn't go in. I admired it from afar and walked past it to the river. The river had another tract of water running parallel to it at street height, and it was calmer and smooth as class, with ducks and swans paddling lazily along. Occasionally a pipe or a shorted wall allowed water to spill from the higher leveled water to the river, and it gushed in small but powerful waterfalls. Between the river and the moat ran a boardwalk, which I happily followed all the way back to the city center. 

The town was surprisingly packed for a Sunday. Since I had a hard time finding a place open for breakfast, I figured all the shops would be closed, but only the restaurants were. I stopped into a few shops but resisted the gourmet chocolate shop, though it smelled really good. 

After walking through the city center I went back to the river and followed it the rest of the short way from the bridge to the mouth. A few neat little wooden boats were moored along the wall of the West side of the river, and open rugby fields ran the length between the bridge and the ocean. I walked to the shore, following the sidewalk the long way back to where I was staying. The ocean smelled of kelp and salt water, but it wasn't as strong or foul as I remember from the Pacific. 

There was a mile long pier out to an an island that had a small, church-like building with a lighthouse attached. I'm sure there were more buildings but the whole island was surrounded by a tall stone wall, and those were the only things taller. On the far side from the lighthouse a freighter was docked. Given that, I was sure it was closed to the public, but I joined the handful of others walking that way and ventured down the pier anyway. Out on the water it was significantly colder and winded. Winds were probably sustained at around 30 knots. I zipped up my outer layer, pulled my hood over my head, and kept going anyway. Sure enough, it was gated and posted with a large warning in bold red letter, no unauthorized personnel past that point, at the entrance to the island. Just as expected. I tried to peak through without trespassing to get a better look at the lighthouse, but had no luck. I turned around.

By the time I got off the pier, my legs were a little sore. I was glad the house wasn't far. In fact, where I was walking was part of the view out the window of the room I was renting. I headed back, realizing how tired I suddenly was. I set an alarm for 4:15 so I wouldn't miss the sunset at 4:30, and took a nap. I was so tired! 

I actually did get up, but the sunset just fizzled out in the clouds. It was a bit of a bummer. However, the Aran Islands were easier to see, no longer shrouded in mist as they had been earlier. I took a few pictures then went to find dinner. 

I headed in the opposite direction of where I'd gone before, away from the city center, to a part of town called Salthill. It's a somewhat separate part of town, attached to the old town and the city center only by a mile or so of neighborhood. It's the more modern part of town. The buildings are a little taller and closer to the shore of the Atlantic. 

I found a brew house advertising North American beer, and I was curious. They also looked like they might have the best food on the street, so I went in. I ordered fish and chips, which were AMAZING, and a beer the bartender said was similar to Guinness (I was trying to branch out) but she was wrong. It was only after I got the second rate beer that I noticed they had Founders beer! How funny! Apparently the Irish love the Breakfast Stout. Go Grand Rapids! They also had Sam Adams and Twin Peaks, but I already knew those were widely dispersed. 

After dinner I wasn't ready to go home, so I walked back to the city center. There was a small park nearby in which a fair was set up, with red and white pinstriped tents lining the side, and a merry-go-round, and a ferris wheel. I felt a little weird doing it, but I bought a ticket for the ferris wheel and went by myself. I wanted to see the view from above. It was pretty neat! The lights stretched on and on. Galway was bigger than I thought! Flatter, and more uniform too, like flying over the suburbs of Chicago. 

When I got off the ferris wheel it was drizzling again, and I didn't have much interest in the rest of the fair, so I headed back to the house. It's a perfect night for tucking in with a good book, which is what I plan to do now. Tomorrow will be packed full of adventure, so I'd better get my sleep!

On to Galway!

Day 3

I took the train to Galway today, which is directly across the country from Dublin, on the Atlantic coast. It's a really neat town! I walked through the main part of downtown after dropping my stuff off at the house I'm staying in, and it's a really charming place! There are beautiful, well kept, but modest stone houses, and English manor type houses. The streets that run through the main part of town are still cobbled, and they're barely wide enough to fit a car and a narrow sidewalk. This place doesn't seem big enough to call a city, but it's too big to call a town. It's settled right by the mouth of a shallow but swift river that runs into the Atlantic, and the natural harbor and boats add further charm. It's really pretty. I can't wait to explore more tomorrow! It was already beautiful tonight in the mist and the dark, I bet tomorrow will be amazing!

Temple Bar Nightlife

Dublin comes alive at night in a way I've never seen before. 

Last night Kim and I walked back down to Temple Bar after 10pm, and I felt as if I was in a different Dublin entirely. Where tourists had been wandering through alleys to Temple Bar during daylight now looked completely abandoned. I've walked these streets a few times now, I knew where I was going, so I persisted on. After a short walk down the first narrow, dark road, hints of light and noise began to appear. In no time at all we were suddenly in front of a lively bar, with people smoking outside, the door wide open and Trad music blaring through. It seemed we had found the hidden pub world of Temple Bar. What seemed like a more local scene at first turned out to be the most happening bar in the area. Up top was traditional, not too crowded...but down below it was packed so full that I'm pretty sure my hair dipped into more than a few drinks. A different kind of live band was playing, with livelier tunes from a banjo, a guitar, and a singer. It was right at the threshold of my tolerance level for crowds, to be honest a bit beyond, but then a waitress passed with a sample tray of Scotch Eggs that were free! It was one of the items on my Irish checklist, and I hadn't found an opportunity to get one yet, and now here it was in the unlikeliest of places! And it was delicious! Made my night! It's amazing what one small, delicious piece of food can do to perk a person up. From then on, everything seemed better; even the crowd. We had a few drinks, chatted over the noise with some friendly people from Holland, then moved on to the next bar. After all, we had only reached the outer edge of Temple Bar. The next bar we wandered into was almost as crowded. It was still impossible to not touch people around you, but it felt less like a mosh pit and more like a bar. A couple young British men remarked on Kim's purple lipstick, and just like that we were conversing again. 

This went on for a while. We had a drink or two small drinks at each place, then moved on. Each bar had a slightly different vibe, but there was an energetic undercurrent that was shared by all. We had found the Craic of Temple Bar. 

Time flew by, and before we knew it, after what felt like only 3 drinks in, the pub we were in turned all the lights on. The unmistakeable symbol for closing time. I checked the time. It was 2:37 in the morning! We hadn't even gotten a drink yet at that bar, but that was okay. We excused ourselves and walked back to the apartment. I had so much energy still, I didn't want to go home, but by the time we had walked the 8 blocks back I was decompressed enough to sleep. 

I never got drunk, never got grumpy, I just had fun. It was a really, really great night. I couldn't help but think, again, about the legend of magic that Dublin holds, and again I found myself agreeing that there's just something strangely appealing about this city. I cannot wait to come back with Luke someday! 

Trinity

Day 3

Today I went to Trinity College. I walked all around the outer border, just to be thorough, and then I went through the South side gate onto campus. The buildings are aligned so that they form protected commons areas in the middle, and any gaps between buildings are connected by a tall stone wall. It effectively hides campus from the rest of Dublin, and creates a quiet, grassy, green space in the middle. 

I walked right to the building housing the Book of Kells. The line was long, but I knew it'd be worth it. Once I finally got my ticket I wandered freely through the displays. Each display housed a codex of the collection. One was small, the size of printer paper nowadays, that was originally the pocket size version, easily carried around. The other three were much larger, probably 1.5 ft by 2 ft. All were ornately decorated, in rich dark red, vibrant blues, shiny emerald green, and gold. The lines are perfectly straight and even, which is impressive! I couldn't detect any lines on the pages (as is common for that day and age - scribes used to painstakingly grid-line their pages before they wrote in them, so that it was neat and orderly) and it's not as if they had typewriters or printers to maintain even spacing. The books are so old they're written on vellum, which is animal hide. The covers were thick leather, some brown, some red. It was written in the early ninth century, and was moved to Trinity for safekeeping in 1661, where it is today. It's kept in permanent displays in the ground floor of The Old Library. 

The Long Room, the floor above where the Book of Kells is kept in The Old Library, is even better. It houses 200,000 of the library's oldest books. (The others are in the 7 other buildings that comprise Trinity's library.) Rows of grand, wooden arches run the length of the hall on both sides, each an entrance to a cove of books that run solid from arch to wall, and floor to ceiling. Two ladders run the side shelves so the books on the top shelves can be reached. Then there's a second story above that, with the same thing! On the first floor there are busts of significant figures at the end of every shelf. Everyone from Homer to Shakespeare to Swift. The ceiling is also wood, and it's all dark and shiny, and it smells good. It's a massive hall containing beautifully worked wood and really, really old books. It's heaven. It also houses the oldest surviving harp in Ireland; the very same one that's on Irish coins. It's pretty cool! 

I was able to take pictures of the Long Room, but pictures are entirely banned in the Book of Kells display room. It's a bummer because it's hard to even envision what a book that old really looks like. 

By then Kim and Garrett had caught up to me, and we wandered through campus some, but they were really hungry so we left in search of food. On the way I persuaded them to detour to Mulligans, a 300 year old bar known for pouring the best Guinness in Ireland. It's a lovely little bar! For being so famous, it's still very much a local's bar. It was filled with old men discussing their medications, and middle aged parties celebrating birthdays and the latest Rugby win. It probably helps that it's hard to find. It's not in a particularly touristy spot, hidden back a few blocks from the Garda station in the beginnings of the business side of town, and to the untrained eye it doesn't seem like much from the outside. But I knew what I was looking for because again I had done my research!

We, of course, had ourselves the best Guinness I've ever had, but they didn't serve food, so after drawing out the creamiest-beer-of-all-time as long as I could, we left to again pursue food. We found it in an old, ornate corner building just around the block, right across the street from the Northwest corner of Trinity and a stones throw from Temple Bar. It was right next to the bookstore that I'd perused just before I went to visit Trinity; the bookstore where I purchased a copy of The Way I Walked, published in 1937 by Robert Lloyd Praeger, a famous botanist whose works are still studied to this day, who is apparently my great uncle! Cool! And, the bookstore reminded me of the fictional one in my favorite book series, which takes place in Dublin. It was packed full of books, with a winding staircase that went up and up and up for 4 stories; quant, cozy, and a slight air of mystery about it. I was in heaven all day!

After all that, we took a quick jaunt down to Temple Bar to witness the beginnings of the nightly parties and pub crawls, took a few pictures, then headed back to the apartment. We took the long way home, circling back around and walking back through the festively lit shopping district to the south of Trinity, same as last night for me. Kim wanted to go shopping. We fit a little shopping in but stores were mostly closed by the time we got to the best parts. That's okay. Shopping can be done anywhere, any time. 

We didn't get to Dublin Castle or the Guinness Factory today, but that's okay too. The Guinness Factory no longer produces Guiness, so it's not as much of a beer tasting and tour as it is a museum. I can do that next time. The castle would be sweet, but I may be able to fit that in tomorrow. It's on the way to the train station where I'm hopping on a train to go to Galway, only a 2.5 hour train ride! I can't wait to see the Irish country!

View of Dublin from Ha' Penny Bridge, looking West.