Oh IRELAND!--Installment the third

Installment the third

May 5, 2016

The next morning we got up bright and early and lugged our bags out so we could catch the ferry over the River Shannon early. I climbed over the rocks while we waited for the boat to come. They were mucky and slick and I nearly fell several times. I was REALLY glad for those boots. I found a limpet and a little snail—gave that to Mom. The ferry ride was bracing. I just love the water. I don't know what it is about it, but water calms me and fills me up. I must be part plant or something. Living in the desert makes me all sandy inside.

We saw a guy with a fox and a shaggy little donkey with a dog on its back. That was a paid photo op. They really milked it too.

We did the Dingle Penninsula that day, passing through Tralee and Slea Head and Inch beach. The Blasket Islands sailed just off the coast, blueish hulks full of gannets, from which many of the people moved to Springfield, Massachusetts in large chunks.

I found nowhere that looked like the site for LEAP YEAR. Clearly they took the cliffs from the Cliffs of Moher, but I didn't really see something that looked like the Cairragh pub or the roads leading away from it. I wonder which castle they used also.

On that headland to the right is where they're filming Star Wars

Because this was a region that spoke almost completely Gaelic, they were “Gaeltacht”. I found out that “Failte Isteach” (Felcha Isteeh) means Welcome inside and “Go Mall” means drive slowly. “To let” means to rent. We saw the Three Sisters Islands, one of which was Lindbergh's first land sighting on his crossing of the ocean. I saw a pub called Tig un Muircu, which Murt said was Murphy's pub.

We ate lunch in Dingle at a little fish and chips place. The food, again, was fabulous. Love fish n' Chips.

Murt talked of “leaving certs” or graduation exams, and Fungie the Dolphin in Dingle (I think it was). He also said “The Irish will go to the opening of an envelop.” He also said, “In the valley of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” He said they say, “Cloudy or bright” instead of cloudy or sunshiny. And he said they call garage sales “car stops.”

I forget it's real name. I call it a cairn house.

We stopped several times to run down the hill and take pictures. It might have been that day that we stopped at a parking lot. Murt told us there would be a little man there who sold wild bee honey. He also sold holy water. That water just happened to be poteen (Potchin) or moonshine, which is illegal to sell. Thus the holy water. If you told him Murt said to ask for holy water, he'd sell you poteen.

I, being uninterested in poteen, went for a hike up the hill. There I found wool snagged in bushes and gathered all I could before Murt dragged us back into the bus. I “carded” all the stickers and trash out of it, lined up the skeins, and sort of finger wove some for Mom and I. Real Irish wool yarn.

How I wanted to go swimming

There were lots of rocky headlands strung together with stony beaches and some sand. The hills were punctuated with sheep and heather and the occasional cow or shaggy donkey. The weather was simply glorious. I understand that it is more often murky with fog and rain squalls. We got so lucky!

Dingle with its Fungie the Dolphin and Charlie Chaplin statue (Chaplin had a home out on the coast that he loved.) was quite charming. I found a linen store in which I hoped to find lace sheers. I really really want a set for our windows. I only found a pretty table runner and lace heart.

A ring fort right out there in the open!

The houses in Ireland are much the same. They sit longways to the road. There are two to four windows evenly spaced on either side of the door. The door is brightly colored and often had a doorknob in the middle of the door. In windy places (like Dingle) they have a board or cement or metal piece which hangs over the shingles on each end of the house to trap the shingles from flying off. I don't remember what Murt called those. Each window would have lace sheers and the house would look impeccable. You don't see rusting cars anywhere. 

The quintessential Irish house

You don't see clutter. It's all neat and clean and well-kept. Often there would be a rocky ruin next to the house, as if that had been where they'd lived for hundreds of years previously.

That evening we drove into Killarney (Cill Airne), Murt's home town. You could really tell how proud he was of it, and of the Caireigh football (soccer) team. We stayed in Killarney Towers on Plunkett street for that night and two others. We K's of course went wandering, looking for good shopping and great music. We ranged all down Main and High street, where we found Murphy's ice cream shop. The girls there were really sweet and gave us tastes of which ever ice cream we wanted.

Night in Killarney

There was a street performer down there who was so with it that he kept up a running patter, teasing the passersby. I asked him to play TELL ME MA, which he did. He was really nice, so I gave him a few Euros. He was absolutely hilarious. When a little boy ran up and gave him money, he said, “I love children. I have a couple of children of my own at home. In the freezer.” That got him a laugh. There were several. When an Italian group came and gave him money, he played an Italian song so well that they were all singing along.

These guys were really GOOD!

I think it was this night that we went across the street to another hotel and saw the show Caelic Roots, a show like Riverdance. There were three girl dancers, one boy dancer, one girl harpist, two guys playing instruments and three girls who sang. The main girl dancer really really looked like a heshe. I'm not the only one who thought that. She had loads of makeup on and a really masculine face. Mom bought their CD and later gave it to me. (It turned out to be some really nice non-Irish songs.) I really enjoyed the show.

Dinner was great that night. I forget what I ate, but all my meals were pretty darn good there. I'm so glad I didn't wuss out and just have burgers. Lisa, Ju, and I ended up at the pub downstairs in the hotel. Every night that place had a different rockin' band. Mom was amazed that I knew most of the music. It was wonderful. Mom ended up going swimming with some of the other women from the tour. I don't know if they actually got to swim though. I know she at least had a jacuzi, because she left the hot water in for me. Thanks, Mom.

May 6, 2016

This was the Ring of Kerry day. It's a 100 mile circle around Iveragh Peninsula which includes Killorglin, Glenbeigh, Cahirciveen or Cahersiveen (pronounced Car sigh bean), Waterville, Caherdaniel, Sneem, Kenmare, and then Killarney, beautiful little towns. Inside that ring is a national forest and the mountain, Carrauntoohil, one of their taller peaks at 1039 meters.

That morning, after a lovely breakfast, we loaded up and traveled past emerald pastures full of fluffy lambs to a Sheep dog demonstration. First the farmer introduced us to his sheep. One of them had four horns. Then he let the sheep go way up to an upper pasture and he introduced his two dogs. He never spoke above a normal house voice. He said if you had to yell at your dog, the dog simply didn't want to listen to you, because the dog can hear for a LONG way. Then he showed us. Each dog had his or her own set of whistles which told the dog where to go and what to do.

 

Sheep dog fun

 Those dogs cut lone sheep from the herd, nudged them down the hill, took them right or left. All kinds of things. At first I thought one of the dogs might be older and needed a rest, because he would lie down while the other dog did everything. But no. He simply hadn't had his set of directions yet. Soon he got them and took off heading the sheep exactly where the farmer wanted them. I half expected to see Babe, the Pig there somewhere.

Where the heck is Babe?

As we traveled through Cahersiveen and Glenbeigh, Murt talked more about the 1916 uprising, because Daniel O'Connell was born there. He said this region was also Gaeltacht or Gaelic-speaking. He said Yeats once wrote, “Now in Ireland a terrible beauty has been born.” I really liked that saying. One of the religious leaders also said, “God has no country” meaning He doesn't take sides. 

Tea with Janelle and Moncai Rua and Patty

 

We stopped at a little B&B in a town whose name escapes me. Murt knows the people there, and arranged for us to have tea there. The scones were piping hot and straight from the oven. We had them with clotted cream and black or raspberry preserves. OUTSTANDINGLY SCRUMPY! The little sandwiches were delicious as well. And I had vanilla tea, very yummy. It turns out that the actress (Katherine someone whose name eludes me right now) who played opposite John Wayne in The Quiet Man often stayed at that B&B. She liked the proprietor so much that she kind of adopted him and would often stay there. They allowed us to go upstairs and see her room. I took a pic with Moncai Rua there.

Scrumpy scone with clotted cream and blackberry preserves

You have to understand that that monkey went everywhere. I had three of them. So one went into many of our pictures, and one was mainly for putting somewhere on a person's clothing in the group. They had to pass it to someone in the group without them knowing. I don't think everyone got it, but I know Cathy, Heathyr, the other Cathy, Lilly, and Frank all got him. I think either Jane or Sharon got him too. Moncai Rua.

Charley Chaplain's house

Anywho, we saw the Skelligs (Little S and S Michael) which are both uninhabited by anything but gannets. We also saw the peninsula where they're filming the next (and the last) Star Wars movies. Apparently that whole peninsula is locked up tight. We saw it and Carl took pics of it with his telephoto lens. We also saw some rocky crannogs (little round houses built out of stones).

Gravestone in Sneem

We went to a little village called Sneem and for some reason, Murt, the flash-past driver let us out for nearly an hour. I had the strongest urge to take pictures of the gravestones there in the church yard. I didn't really have that push anywhere else. I mean there were some cool St Brigid's crosses elsewhere, but in Sneem I really felt inspired to take pics. I tried to get many of them, but there was little time, and lots of the headstones had been scoured smooth by the winds of time. Those pics were some of the few I still have. They may or may not lead to my own treasure trove, but perhaps they'll be the answer to someone else's burning question, which will lead to our people.

I really wish I'd heard more of the lesson that day, because it really interests me about the Uprising. I've long felt Ireland and Scotland should be free of Britain. Unfortunately, the bus lulled me to sleep with its swaying more than once and I'd wake to hear the tempting tail end of another little tidbit. I should have at least jotted down names and dates, and names of the monuments I took pics of. Unfortunately, I didn't. I couldn't pry my eyes open for much of the day. It was that rocking bus.

What I came away with is that the Irish are fiercely patriotic, and Murt is no different, though he says he doesn't agree with some of the IRA's methods and practices. He let us know that the IRA wasn't the only militant faction, or even the worst. There was one that started with a U that was more vicious. Unfortunately, sometimes violence is called for. Look at our war for independence. Look at France's truly horrible little war.

We're everywhere, especially pubs

We came down from the mountains past a string of lakes and stopped at a place called Lady's View to look at the lakes. Lady's View is where Queen Elizabeth 2 and her ladies in waiting once had a picnic overlooking the valley. Thus the name. Then down through the national forest there near Killarney. In one places there was a “Shebeen” or moonshine bar. It was illegal since they sold poteen there, so people had to be very careful going there, especially since the fine for “drink driving” is extremely stiff and you lose your license for years.

That night we K's hiked all over town, taking pictures in a pair of giant hands, and all kinds of other places. Carl came with us. We saw the guys at one place but didn't stay long. Mom celebrated her birthday with ice cream, a lovely meal, and a free CD from the band playing that night in the hotel pub. It was so fun going all over with her. She had an umbrella and kept losing it places. I'd find it and give it back to her. Then she lost it and I couldn't find it. The lovely and oh so kind woman at the woolen store said, “Ah no worries. Here.” And she caught up a new umbrella, tore off the tags, and gave it to me. I told her if I found it, I'd bring that one back, but she declined. “It's a gift,” she said. Mom was thrilled to have a new one. Later she found hers in her back pack. Mom was a real trooper, although I'm sure her ankle really hurt. I made sure to massage her foot several times and she took nice hot baths also.

Oh IRELAND--Post the Secundus

May 3, 2016

Driving Mom nuts at the Cliffs of Moher (Lisa's other last name)

We hopped aboard the tugboat Murt after a wonderful Irish breakfast of runny egg, blood pudding and white pudding, mild sausage, baked tomatoes, and potatoes, along with fabulous scones with yummy Irish butter and blackberry preserve. I ate everything but the blood pudding. White pudding turned out to be sausage with oatmeal in it. Not my fave, but it wasn't barf-inducing.

We drove that day through the Burren, a strange, lunar-like landscape of karst limestone probably jam crammed with caves. Each farm had to be carved out of that rock and the land built from scratch. They use the peat from the valley bogs to heat and cook on.

Not as easy as it looks--the wind nearly blew my flute bag off the cliff--which is right there.

Ju and I at the Cliffs

At last we came to the Cliffs of Moher. Luckily for us there wasn't much wind or rain. We girls went off along the cliffs far from any of the others, taking pictures by hanging way out over the cliff. Mom ended up stopping both because her foot ached, and because she couldn't watch us hanging out there and climbing around like goats. 

The other sisters headed to the bus, but Ju and I went back the other way and saw the plaque about those who had fallen to their deaths there. The views were breathtaking and lovely. There were a bazillion people there, all speaking every language you can think of. I talked to Germans and some Americans.

Driving Mom insane

We stopped at a roadblock, but because Murt knows all kinds of people there, he sweet talked our way through instead of having to turn and go clear back around. We would have been too late for tea.

High tea at Dromoland Castle--Scrumpy scones!!!

We headed to Dromoland Castle for High Tea. It was a beautiful late period castle. I guess it used to be Brian Boru's seat, but that castle burned down and they rebuilt it later after it didn't need to be defensive, with huge windows. The castle was GORGEOUS and the tea lovely. There were several kinds of sandwiches (I tried watercress, which was okay but a bit weedy.) and, better, several kinds of cakes. All very posh and pinky out sort of thing. It felt odd not wearing a skirt to it, but I wasn't about to tromp around the Cliffs of Moher in a skirt.

Afterwards they let us loose to explore the castle and grounds. Lovely knot gardens and fountains. A beautiful spot for a reception.

Dromoland Castle

Lisa and I went up the stairs they told us not to and found ourselves in the servant's quarters. We heard someone else coming up and got caught red-handed. But the lady said nothing, just went into one of the rooms. So we went up the next flight of very tiny cramped stairs. Turns out after a few turns it dead-ended in a tiny Alice in Wonderland type door with a sign that mentioned cell tower stuff. It was locked, so we took pics and went back down.

That night we stayed in Ennis. For the most part, the place was empty of entertainment. We talked to a guy we met and he said that because of the building crash, half the town was unemployed. He thought it silly that they didn't attract more tourists with music and/or shows. Anyway, we finally found a place called Broghans in which to eat. Oh my gosh that was some FABULOUS hake and mash (mashed potato, yam, and I think parsnip—who knew?).

Then Mom and Janelle took off to go sleep again, and I, Lisa, and Ju went to find some music. We asked at one place and the girls chatted up the young bartender there named Oisin. He told us about a place and we headed off. But I remembered that I had that huge, bulky sweatshirt and hat taking up room in my suitcase. I wasn't about to drag that stuff home, so I went back and asked him if he'd like to trade sports shirts. He agreed to meet us the next night.

So then we went off to the new place. When we got there, the band was jamming. They were pretty good and I felt weird asking to jam with them, so I wasn't going to do it. We got talking with a guy named Chris (maybe) and his nephew who were from Ireland originally but had moved to the States and were back for a funeral. They come back every year maybe four times. They were really nice and kept buying us sodas. They made me play my whistle. Next time I have to practice a whole lot more before I go. Anyway it was really fun.

May 4, 2016

I got things messed up in my journal book since I spent most of the day listening to Murt and not writing, and most of the nights hunting great music. I got behind and didn't remember things in the right order. Now it's working better, because I have the itinerary and all the maps I got, along with my journal and a few pictures (mostly Ju's....wah).

Tammy and the boys at poul na brouin (or however the heck you spell it)

Anywho, we struck off from Ennis, our home base for two days, and went back to the Burren for another jaunt. This time we went to see Poul na Broin, a passage tomb out on the windswept burren. Going up to it, the rocks look like strange puzzle pieces, with deep, grass-filled cuts between the rocks. The land had all subsided away from the dolmen, leaving it starkly jutting from the open landscape. 

The Burren

Yup. Karst. I made sure from the ranger. I told him I bet there were huge caves under there, and he asked how I knew. “It's all karst isn't it?” He was impressed. Yup, big caves. But the opening was in the next village (I believe we saw a sign for it the day before). Let me tell you, it was an eery feeling, especially since I'd just read a dreadful book about these people who fall down a giant pot hole in a place like that and never got to get out. I wasn't too wigged out about it, but just the thought...shudder. Anyway, the dolman itself was kind of cool. But it wasn't until later that I really thought about how ancient that place was. To have all the dirt gone that had formed the actual tomb? Wow. It must have been someone of some importance too.

Lemaneagh Castle

That day we also saw Lemaneagh Tor, possibly the castle I might want to write FORLORN HOPE about. Unfortunately, I could get zero information on it or any of the castles we visited, beyond the tour they give everybody and maybe a book you'd buy in the bookstore. I took pics of Lemaneagh, though. 

And I kept answering Murt's questions about that time period, so he told me I should go up there and take the mike and do the tour myself. I didn't know what to think. He either disliked me heartily or he was serious. I shut up after that for the most part.

We went back to Ennis and got ready for Bunratty, I in my red velvet gown and veil and circlet, and everyone else in the regular stuff. Boy did I get some smirks from the guys. I'm sure I looked stupid, but I did it for a reason. I wanted to know how it really felt to climb around in that castle in a long gown. So now I know. It sucked. 

The gown wasn't bad. But the veil kept coming off because the circlet wasn't strong enough to hold it in place. I ended up having to tie it on. Probably they would have pinned theirs to their wimple. Anywho, we climbed around in the castle, trying to see every part of it. Again I got separated from everybody, but I did jiggle all kinds of locked doors. (Yes, Mom, that alarm was me trying to go where no one else had.)

Yeah I see that look. I pulled my veil off because it kept falling off.

There was a little village too. Mostly it was all different time periods and not horrendously interesting in any but a touristy way. I bought my sweatshirt there in the gift shop, just as it was closing for the day. I forewent the meet-up at the bus and just sprinted for the front door, where a queue of revelers were climbing the steps to enter the hold. 

There was a piper there, and the servants were all dressed to the nines. They of course eyed me funny, as did all the people on our bus. I'm sure they thought me quite batty. Whatever. I tried not to let their opinions get in the way. 

Looking up at the stairs above

What I WAS able to do is offer Patty Attenasio, the tour owner, my extra veil to wear under her crown. They made her and her cowboy husband King and Queen for the evening. Because I was in costume (the only one, thank you Lisa and Mom for bailing on that endeavor) I got to be the maid of honor and hand things to the Queen.

We drank a toast to their health (we Kleinmans with soda) and then sat down to a feast of lamb stew with bread, all of which we ate with knives and our hands. The King got to approve all the removes and we feasted heartily. I did not drink out of the finger bowl as my mom once did. Yeah! 
 

The servants were also our entertainers, singing and storytelling and joking. Unfortunately there were no jugglers or acrobats. But there were a couple of boys brought to the King on charges of “bothering” the women. They got tossed in the dungeon and told to moan a great deal. Upon being sprung, they were forced to sing a song (Take Me Out To The Ball Game).

All too soon the night ended and we boarded the coach. I got to the hotel and went right in and changed out of my hot gown and annoying veil and we girls went out on the town. 

Pub crawling in Broghans (Great hake!!!) --Ju must be in the loo

At first we went to Brogans and Lisa tried their lamb stew, but it wasn't nearly as good as my stew in Gallway had been. We jammed there and they invited me into their circle and had me play a solo, but the girls wanted to leave and go to O'Connal's to meet Oisin. 

I took my sweatshirt and new ball cap and a Frisbee and Lisa took her $70 Diamondbacks jersey. Of course Oisin wanted the jersey. He traded her what turned out to be like his middle school PE shirt. I gave his friend my Frisbee (they had no idea what it was.) I was bummed because it looked like I'd have to go home not having traded anything. Lisa was a little bummed because she only got a PE shirt. But at least most people in the States wouldn't know that's what it was. It still had the Carraigh (Kerry) emblem on it. 
 

I was really goal-oriented and it was already evident that we probably wouldn't be going swimming in the sea. (I could have gone in the hotel pool but it wasn't the same at all. I wanted to do Irish things.) We hung out and listened to a little music and went to the room.

Me at the rag tree

Oh IRELAND!

I said I would put something more on here from our Ireland trip. The thing is, I've been mourning the loss of my sim card, and with it most of my pictures. But yesterday or the day before, Claudette, one of the wonderful people from the tour, sent me a brand new sim card with all of her family's pictures on it. What an amazing, thoughtful thing to have done. So I'll pull ahead and stop being a baby about it...;o)
I'm taking this from my journal, which I tried to write on every day.

April 29, 2016

So the first flight to Ireland (from Phoenix to Philly) I sat next to a man and his wife and he almost never even looked at me, let alone say anything. Boring. I hoped for an interesting person to sit next to going out of Philly and lucked out. He was a very nice married man named Eamon who was going to Philly to his wife. They commute back and forth from Ireland. Anywho, he gave me some great helpful hints and even a free book. We talked about Ireland and movies and he told me places to see and eat in Dublin, (several of which we availed ourselves).

I was pretty thrashed so I fell asleep halfway through the Mr. Whicher movie I saw, and only saw half of Tomorrowland. There was a not bad dinner and some not bad snacks as well, and all the movies were free. We could have our pick of probably 200 movies, but it took a LONG time to get to the right one. Sitting next to the window wouldn't have helped me in the least since we were always above a dense cloud cover the whole time. I sat in the center of the central section.

May 1, 2016

Murt and Mum (actually he has my gift of $5 in pennies at the end of the trip.

We arrived in the morning at Dublin and met our little Trip Troll, Murt O'Shea (that's a tongue-in-cheek moniker, by the way). He was bald as a bowling ball and quite salty—maybe because he'd had to shepherd loony Americans around for 33 years, enduring their Leprechaun quips and stupid questions. I ended up asking a few of my own stupid questions and really getting slammed for it in a sort of half playful way.

The Harp Bridge in Dublin

Anywho, we drove all over Dublin while he rattled off names of bridges and who they were named after and why. I sure learned a lot more about the 1916 uprising and the IRA and Ireland's struggles to get England to let them go. Apparently they had the centennial of getting their government back the day before we got there. So the Poblacht na H eirrian (spelling might bite) or Declaration of Independence was all over the place.

We ended up at the Guinness factory/museum. I personally couldn't have cared less about the place. We didn't actually see people making the stuff. It was a huge Drink-Our-Beer push. But I did promise my friend Dave Liddell that I'd buy someone a drink. We got a free drink token, though, so I went up to some stranger and gave him mine.

I did take some nice pictures of the skyline from up there.

What I really wanted to do was go see Christchurch, where Strongbow's tomb lay, along with lots of Viking artifacts. Unfortunately I couldn't get anyone else to go. However, right next to our hotel Meyrick was the National Irish Museum. Turns out just me and Mom went at first. I took a bazillion pictures in there. There were whole rooms of ancient coins, costumes, cottage furniture, silver, jewelry, suits of shogun armor, and a whole arm for the 1916 uprising. It was cool we found that place. Everybody else went to go get drunk or sleep. My sisters went to find a phone store to buy new cards for their phones. They came later, though, and I took them back through, seeing more of the stuff I missed before. Very cool. Wah. I want my pictures.

Their Declaration of Independence

That night we Kleinmans (K's) and several of the other ladies ate in a pub near the hotel. It was the first place in Ireland I played my tin whistle. I, the intrepid (or maybe foolishly lucky) one, tried the seafood tray. It wasn't my favorite, but it was okay and filling.

Afterwards everybody else went to bed. I went out on the town with Cathy and Frank, both really dingy people...:o) We meshed well. At this writing, I don't know their last names. Anyway we walked around and took bridge pictures but didn't find a good place to listen to music.

May 2, 2016

We hopped aboard Murt's Ark and he took us down to Connamara. On the way he talked about how he doesn't believe in fairies, but he does believe in Whitethorn trees. Apparently when people lost a baby, they'd bury the little one beneath a whitethorn because the thorns would keep the wolves away. And fairies were supposed to take care of the baby. So the whitethorn tree is sacred to Ireland. In fact, when they were building one of the major motorways, they refused to cut down the tree and eventually built the road AROUND the tree.

Some of the lovely wares at Connamara Marbleworks

First we went to the Connamara marbleworks, and then to Kylemore, an abbey and erstwhile exclusive girl's school. It was beautiful and had lovely grounds. I snuck up the stairs in the bothy (despite the sign) and saw the place where the rest of the under gardeners slept. Now it's storage for extra pots.

The little chapel at Kylemore

I spent most of the time on my own. I don't know how I kept losing everyone, but I did. Maybe it's because I wanted to see things they didn't care about and vice versa.

Gardens at Kylemore with the bothy in the back.

Green velvet everywhere!

On the way to Galway (our next stopping place) we were going up Galway bay. Lots of peat bogs and hippity hop lambs dotting the verdant grassland. Apparently every foot of grazing land had to be reclaimed from the rocks and bogs by digging out the rocks and using them to build fences, and by draining and adding seaweed to the sandy soil. Back-breaking toil.

I forget where this was taken

We learned that there were a couple of towns, whose names escape me. The road between them is called The Road of Tears. Apparently, during The Hunger, (Potato Famines) one of the towns was starving to death. The people heard that a shipment of wheat had come to the other town from America, so they started walking. They walked and walked, many of them dying along the way, of starvation and exposure. Unfortunately, when they arrived at the other town, the people there told them that the word of food had been only a rumor. So all they could do was go back to the first town. On the way all of them died. Only a few who had not gone walking survived.

Road of Tears

So apparently the American Indians from the Trail of Tears heard about their plight, and since they shared so many tears, they sent food to the survivors. Thus that tribe is beloved of Ireland. In fact they love America for all the help they did during that time and later, standing by them.

Tying a rag on the rag tree

Also on the way we saw a Rag Tree, which is a whitethorn full of rags of clothing taken from sick people to hopefully heal them.

One of the biggest pains of the trip was that the bus swayed so much that I was always desperately fighting sleep. And I really wanted to hear everything that Murt was saying and see everything going past. I tried to take a picture of every tor and ruin. Many of them became "Dangit" pics because they went past way too fast to make a decent picture.

The red and white one is Blake's

We were passing through Galway when I saw banners in a park. I saw Blake on one of them and Janelle and I went to take pics of her under it after we got to the hotel. Then the others joined us looking for a good place to eat. I'd done the Amazing Race thing and gotten a map and some helpful hints, so we went down Shop Street, and High Street, crossed Cross Street to Quay Street (pronounced Key), where we found The King's Head. I had lamb stew there, which was excellent, and then a band struck up. They only played two Irish songs, however, so we left. 
 

I don't know the band but they only played two Irish songs--the rest American

Mom and Janelle went back to go to bed, so Lisa, Ju, and I went on. The place across the street was playing great music, but the girls wouldn't stay. I think they were the Chieftains, just having a jamb. I could be wrong, but they sure looked like them. It would have been cool to play with them.

Anywho, we went back and to bed.

O'ER THE RIVER LIFFEY Review

Cead mile failte!

 

Recently I went to Ireland for a visit. I enjoyed myself to the hilt. One of my favorite places was Trinity College with its great library which houses the Book of Kells and Brian Boru's alleged harp, among other priceless artifacts. We also drove and walked over several of Dublin's famous bridges crossing the Liffey--the harp bridge, the Ha'penny bridge and many more. I personally tossed a penny off the metal footbridge.

These items all played a part in Heidi Ashworth's book, O'ER THE RIVER LIFFEY. I couldn't put the book down and indeed missed chaperoning a dance--something I LOVE doing--because I had to know if Caroline and Niall got safely together again.

Caroline Fulton is new money and has come to visit at Oak View with her father and best friend in order to catch a title. However, the English ladies in attendance have taken offense at everything about the girls, doing their best to slight them as Irish bumpkins. Caroline finds she is underwhelmed by the Baron, who is inattentive, snooty, pushy, and unkind to his brothers. 

No, from the first time she claps eyes upon Niall Doherty, the tutor, she is lost to him, falling for his dark good looks, his kindness, his way with children, his caring, his intelligence, and his gift of storytelling, among other qualities.

But it seems the two are doomed to eternal separateness. Caroline's father will not accept a lowly untitled tutor as her husband, while Niall is forced to make his way as a teacher due to his father's failed game of chance. Against their wills they are drawn inexorably closer by something resembling fate.

The book is peppered with several Irish tales, which some might say slow the story down. I disagree. I enjoyed the extra tales, reminding me of those I read when I was younger. They felt homey to me, like adding in the banger part of bangers and mash. The stories added spice and tasted delicious.

I also loved the language and rich usage of Irish names. Yes, some of them are a little difficult to pronounce at first, but Heidi has included a perfectly good pronunciation guide. Those names, like the stories, make it an Irish book and not merely an English book dressed in green leprechaun pants.

I really loved this book, partly because I love the Irish and think they have been greatly slighted in favor of Britain's Regency era books. Thank you, Heidi, for helping to allay that shortfall. And thank you for teaching me about jaunting cars. I never heard of a jaunting car that wasn't motor-driven, although now that I think of it, those must have been jaunting cars we drove in on the way to Muckross House.

For a lovely taste of Regency Era Irish romance, you can get O'ER THE RIVER LIFFEY here. 

Slainte!