Southwestern Ireland and such...

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Brian picked us up in the now-so-familiar Finnegan Bray coach at 8:30 a.m. and we headed from Greystones to the Southwest. On the way, we stopped at the Rock of Cashel, an outcropping of limestone in CO Tipperary where a castle/monastery was built. The weather definitely did not cooperate and our tour guide was terribly boring. It’s an impressive structure, though, and in its time it served as a point of great importance for the people of Ireland, particularly the people of Munster (not North’s debate arch-enemies but the ancient southwestern province of Ireland).

We ate lunch on the bus as the rain poured down and then we headed for Killarney in CO Kerry. Killarney is basically a tourist town that would serve as our base of operation for the rest of the trip. It’s the Gatlinburg, TN of Ireland. We stayed at the McSweeney Arms Hotel and I shared a rather large room with Natalie and Mia.

Wednesday, March 25, 2005

At 9 a.m., we set out from Killarney for the Dingle Peninsula, the most western point in “Continental” Europe. Our first stop was Inch Strand, a wide, long, flat beach on Dingle Bay. Although some people took a swim or at least got their feet wet, I decided to stay dry considering we still had the whole day ahead of us in the bus. Brian brought a rugby ball and taught us how to play (sort of). I definitely like the game better than American football.

Next we stopped at a scenic overlook of the Blasket Islands. The water was probably the most blue I’ve ever seen. We ate lunch at the overlook and then headed a little further down the road to another bay where one of the Spanish Armada ships got wrecked. Here’s a photo of the little bay:

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Our last stop was Gallarus Oratory, one of the oldest churches in Ireland (about 1300-years-old). Check it out:

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Since it was Good Friday, we had a special service inside the church. We sang “The Wonderful Cross,” “In Christ Alone,” and “Angus Dei.” Then Dr. Harbin read from Our Daily Bread and we sang “The Doxology.”

Saturday, March 26, 2005

This morning we hiked the Gap of Dunloe, a seven-mile path meandering through the “mountains.” It was a pretty easy walk, almost entirely paved.

We ended up at Lord Brandon’s Cottage where we ate lunch and then took a boat ride over the three lakes. We landed at Ross Castle, a tower house right outside of Killarney. The first tour was completely booked so we sat outside in the sun for an hour until the next tour started. I was so tired I could hardly stand up to listen to the guide, but fortunately she was fairly efficient and the tour only took about an hour.

Sunday, March 27, 2005

Happy Easter!

This was the first Easter I’ve ever spent away from family (I think), so it didn’t really seem very Easter-y. I went to a service at Killarney’s Methodist Church. It was an odd service, considering our group doubled the congregation and packed out the little building. Screaming children were everywhere. Toward the end of the service, right after communion, the fire alarm went off and everyone just ignored it and went on with the service. Fortunately, we were soon excused.

After lunch, we went to Muckross House, a plantation home that once belonged to the Herbert family. When Queen Victoria came to Ireland, she stayed in Muckross House. They spent about eight years preparing for her visit and she only stayed two nights. After the Herberts went bankrupt, they sold Muckross House to the Guinnesses. It passed through a few more hands before winding up in the custody of the State.

Muckross House is comparable to Powerscourt, although it’s not nearly as large. It’s also surrounded by gardens and an arboretum. We walked around the gardens for a while and it started to rain. Brian took us nearby to Torc Waterfall and we hiked up the trail to the top of the falls. We couldn’t really see anything from the top, so we hiked back down, soaked and ready to go back to the hotel.

Monday, March 28, 2005

This morning we drove the Ring of Kerry. We started out at Lady’s View, an overlook that Queen Victoria’s ladies in waiting enjoyed. It’s a good view of the three lakes in Killarney. Next we stopped in the town of Sneem for a restroom break. It was a cute little town—all of the houses were very brightly painted. Then we went to some beach for lunch.

Our last stop was Portmagee, where we boarded boats for the Skelligs. The Skelligs are jagged islands 12 miles off the coast of Ireland where monks used to go for solitude. The ride out to the islands is pretty brutal. The weather and sea conditions have to be perfect in order to make the voyage. One ISP group never made it out to the Skelligs, so we were very fortunate to have had the chance. Our boat circled around Little Skellig which was never inhabited by humans, although it is still heavily populated by birds. Alfred Hitchcock would have been inspired. Here’s a view of Little Skellig from Michael Skellig. The little black dots (if they show up at this resolution) are birds.

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We docked at Michael Skellig and climbed up about 600 stairs (built by the monks in the 6^th century) to the monastic city. The settlement consisted of a few bee-hive huts and carefully built rock walls. The buildings were constructed in the same manner as Gallarus Oratory so no mortar was used. Michael Skellig is covered in peat moss which makes it a prime mating ground for puffins. Here’s a photo of some of the funny little birds:

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Monday, March 29, 2005

After one last hearty Irish breakfast, we bid farewell to the McSweeney Arms Hotel and set out for home with a few stops in County Cork along the way. First was Blarney, famous for the Castle, the Stone, and the Woolen Mills. Blarney Castle is pretty tourist heavy, yet we had a decent time exploring the various rooms. We stood in line for the Blarney Stone for a good 15-minutes. I honestly don’t see what the big deal is. I expected there to be an actual stone or something protruding from the wall, but, no, they expect you to kiss the wall. I guess it’s fun because one is upside-down whilst kissing the wall. Think Spiderman. Anyway, we did get a good story out of the deal, because Brubs decided to lick the wall and got an F-bomb dropped on him by the guy that holds the tourists when they’re kissing the Stone. That was rather humorous. Here’s a photo of my rendezvous with the castle wall. I now supposedly have the “Gift of Eloquence.” Yeah right.

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Blarney Woolen Mills is kind of like Wall Drug in Wall, SD, but not nearly as cool. I did buy my first Irish t-shirt, but they wouldn’t give me a VAT form (if you’re a tourist, you get a tax refund on all your purchases if you have this special form) because the lady behind the counter claimed it was a kiddie size. I don’t think it was, but being a foreigner unaccustomed to the European size labels, I let it slide.

Our next stop was Cobh (pronounced “cove”), which was one of Ireland’s most important port towns back when port towns were important. It was once called Queenstown in honor of Queen Victoria, who first set foot on Irish soil upon its shores. Since England’s been out of the Republic, the town reverted to its Irish name. Anyway, it was the Titanic’s final port of call before it sank and the Lusitania (sp?) sank just off-shore. The reason we went to Cobh was for Queenstown Museum, a multi-media extravaganza of educational enrichment. Mostly, the museum chronicled emigration out of Ireland, but it also touched on the two famous shipwrecks I already mentioned.

Back on the bus, Brian decided to take a shortcut through Waterford and Wexford. All went well until we got stuck in standstill traffic in Waterford for almost two hours. By the time we crossed into Wexford, it was past dinnertime, so we stopped in New Ross for dinner. New Ross was basically a ghost town. We eventually found a little take away open and we persuaded them to let us eat in an adjoining dining room that had been closed for the night. It took a while to order, get our food and pay, so by the time we got back on the road, we were looking at a post-10 p.m. arrival in Greystones. We did eventually arrive, said goodbye to Brian, and settled back into the Y for our last stretch of the semester.

Tuesday, March 30, 2005

Aha! You thought my trip ended on Monday! Well, it did, but this morning we had another field trip into Dublin, this time to Vance’s favorite place… Kilmainham Gaol. It was actually an interesting tour (we had a good guide for a change). Kilmainham Gaol is the prison in which the leaders of Easter Rising were executed in 1916. We saw the prison cells of DeValera, Grace Plunkett and Robert Emmet as well as the yard where the 1916 executions took place (three of which occurred on May 3, my birthday). The East Wing is featured in several films, including The Italian Job (the old one) and Michael Collins.

It’s hard to believe that in one month, my semester will be over. For the next three weeks, I’ll need to buckle down and get projects out of the way, so there probably won’t be too much activity on here. We’ll see if I get inspired to post.

Dublin Church Crawl

Dublin again. Yesterday morning we met Dunlop (our history prof) under the Trinity College bell tower for a bit of a walking tour. The weather wasn’t very conducive to our purposes, as it sprinkled/poured rain the entire time we were there. This was tragic because we’d gotten used to sunny, short sleeve weather the past few days. Cold+Wet+Excessive Walking=Miserable.

Ok, enough complaining. Our first stop was McD’s because some people didn’t use the bathroom BEFORE we left the Y. This is understandable as it was incredibly early (we had to catch an 8:30 a.m. DART… I know… Cry me a river). While McD’s on Grafton Street isn’t terribly historic, they do have really nice bathrooms.

After the pit stop, Dunlop took us to see some sort of monument only to discover it had been plowed over to make way for new luxury apartments. As one might imagine, urban development at the destruction of historically significant sights is one of his pet peeves. We listened to him rant a while before going in to Dublin Castle to check out the tour times. We were supposed to go to Dublinia, a Viking museum, but for some reason, Dunlop was just not down for that and since Dr. Harbin wasn’t there, he took us to Dublin Castle instead… but more on that later. We took our tour later that day.

St. Patrick’s Cathedral was the first destination on our list that we’d actually planned to see. I’d seen it from the outside before, but I hadn’t seen the inside yet because they charge admission. I figured I’d wait and go inside on the ISP buck (er… euro). Here’s a photo of the Cathedral (note the nasty white color of the sky):

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Looking around at all the relics and plaques was interesting. The object that intrigued me most was the Door of Reconciliation. Apparently during the 15^th century, the Fitzgeralds of Kildare and the Butlers of Ormond (yes, the people from Kilkenny Castle… it all comes together) were feuding and the conflict escalated to violence. When Gerald Fitzgerald (tee hee) saw that things were getting out of control, he pleaded for truce with Black James of the Butler clan through the closed door of a Chapter House in which James had taken refuge. James refused to open the up, so Gerald hacked a hole in the door and thrust his arm through it, offering his limb in peace. James obviously took this gesture the spirit in which it was intended and opened the door in reconciliation. This situation gave rise to the phrase, “to chance your arm,” which means taking a risk for reconciliation in the hopes that someone will be there on the other side.

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Our next stop, Christ Church Cathedral, was a three minute walk from St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Dublin is quite distinct for being one of the only cities to accommodate two cathedrals of the same denomination (Church of Ireland… think Episcopalian). It’s also quite interesting that they’re so close to one another. St. Patrick’s is considered the national cathedral while Christ Church is the diocesan cathedral (where the bishop of Dublin and Glendalough sits). We didn’t get a chance to look around Christ Church because we took part in the Eucharist (my first time in such a service). It was an amazing spiritual experience although quite different from anything I’d encountered at CFC, MAC, or New Hope Waimea.

After the service, we went into the crypt for a quick history lecture, but time was short because we were due for a 2 p.m. tour of Dublin Castle.

Dublin Castle has been around for ages. How long? I don’t know. I hope that won’t be on the test. Anyway, it’s been used by both English and Irish governments and is still used today for many government functions. In fact, we even got to see the room where Mary McAleese (Ireland’s current president) was recently inaugurated for her second term. I’m not really sure why Dunlop insisted on skipping Dublinia, but for whatever reason, we got to see a bunch of old rooms with really odd color schemes. Have I mentioned that I’m a little sick of seeing castles?

By the end of the final tour, I was exhausted and ready to head back to Greystones. The weather went from bad to worse, but fortunately we were on our way to warmth. PJs and a down comforter never felt so good.

On Thursday we leave for Kerry and Cork. We’ll have six days on the road, at which time I should have a sizable update to post. Please pray for safe travel and health.

Skyfest

Last night we went to Dublin for Skyfest, the culmination of Patrick’s Day-Weekend. It’s basically a fireworks show over the Liffey. The last time I saw/heard fireworks, it was New Year’s Eve and I was having one of the best nights of my life. This wasn’t like that, but oh well. I’d say Skyfest was pretty comparable to the Fourth of July in Evansville, except when I looked across the river, I saw buildings and hoards of people instead of the sleepy Kentucky riverbank. Anyway, it was freezing, so that was no fun. Such is life.

I took a few photos but very few turned out. Here’s one. Oooo. Ahhh.

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I loathe a parade

When am I ever going to be in Ireland again on St. Patrick’s Day? Take it from me, once was enough.

You’ll note that there are no photographs accompanying this blog entry. There’s a good reason for that. I’m short. It’s one of the many reasons I’d never make it as a professional photographer and it’s the reason all the photos I took at the parade are obscured beyond significance by masses of other people’s heads and digital cameras. Instead of real pictures, I’ll have to resort to word pictures. Don’t worry… I probably won’t need a thousand words.

Arriving in Dublin presented some difficulty. We planned to depart the DART at Connolly Station, the northernmost station in Dublin and the closest to the parade route. Keep in mind we live south of Dublin and the trains were running on a different schedule than we anticipated, so our train terminated at Pearse Station, the southernmost station in Dublin. Not to worry, we caught another DART to Connolly a few minutes later, or at least Dr. Harbin, Esther, Nathan, Matthew and I did. The rest of the group decided to find their own way to the parade out of Pearse. Best of luck to them.

Anyway, we disembarked at Connolly and were greeted by several venders interspersed throughout the station and streets hawking flags, hats, necklaces and snakes. Snakes? I thought Patrick was famous for ridding the island of snakes. What’s with bringing them back in for his Saint’s Day? (They were not real snakes. They were furry, colorful, stuffed animal snakes. Still, I thought it was rather odd to sell snakes on a street corner).

We reached O’Connell Street and something inside of me died. Swarms of people lined either side of the parade route, packed in like sardines, standing on every available accoutrement. I tried to squeeze in where I could, but eventually decided it wasn’t worth it. Note to self: Next time you’re at the Patrick’s Day Parade in Dublin (which will be never), bring a step ladder like every other spectator there.

In the name of cultural encounter, I stood for well over an hour thigh to knee, shoulder to forearm, nose to armpit with complete strangers, most of whom spoke Italian. All I saw were the tips of flags raised above the heads of the crowd as well as an occasional float (including one involving a sequin-bedecked man sitting inside of a giant toilet waving a scepter/toilet brush). Fortunately, my hearing was not affected by the visual obstructions (although the thousands of children blowing whistles didn’t help), so I could hear the catchy melodies of several marching bands (mostly bands from the United States). The music repertoire included “Amazing Grace,” “The Local Motion” and (of course!?) “Yankee Doodle.”

I soon grew tired of standing in torture, decided I’d fulfilled my civic duty and bolted. I caught a train out of Connolly for Bray. The train to Greystones would take another half hour to arrive, but I had to get out of the city. I decided a half hour wait in Bray was more agreeable to me than a wait in Dublin. For half the ride, I had to stand because the DART was full of parade-goers. As stops were made, sitters disembarked and I got a seat at least by Dun Laoghaire.

Bray was hosting a carnival with roller coasters and various drop-from-great-heights-because-it’s-fun attractions, so I stayed in the station and ate some lunch. Soon my train came and I made it back to Greystones in one piece.

Again, sorry about the photos. They would have been beneficial, especially if I could have gotten one of the toilet king. That was interesting (?). Anyway, if you REALLY want to see Patrick’s Day photos, I’m sure you can Google them and get an eyeful that way. I wouldn’t recommend it, though. Real life was scary enough.

Waterford/Wexford/Kilkenny

On Monday and Tuesday, we took a drive down south to see the counties of Kilkenny, Wexford and Waterford.

Kilkenny is a cute little town with an 800-year-old castle in it. The Castle belonged to the prestigious Butler family of England. We had a tour of the castle, ate lunch and went into town to look around at the shops.

Next stop was Jerpoint Abbey, an ancient Benedictine turned Cistercian monastery that’s ruins have been pretty well preserved (It’s exactly like Mellifont Abbey, except Jerpoint has walls). Our tour guide was kind of crazy, so the tour was relatively tolerable. Here’s a coffin (I think) with the apostles carved into it. See if you can recognize them.

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Our last stop of the day was Hook Lighthouse in County Wexford. The Hook Peninsula was the reason for Cromwell’s famous phrase, “by Hook or by Crook,” (Crook is another peninsula, according to Dr. Harbin). The lighthouse is over 800-years-old and is one of the oldest operational lighthouses in the world. Here’s a photo of the lighthouse:

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We spent the night at a YWCA in County Waterford called “The Cliff” (yeah, that name made me homesick). It was basically the YWCA Vance described to us in Upland. It was right on the beach with the mountains in the background, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Here’s the view from The Cliff:

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Tuesday morning we toured Waterford Crystal. It was interesting to see the process by which they make their products. Here’s a guy preparing molten crystal to be blown into a mold:

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Our last stop was Enniscorthy near Vinegar Hill, the site of a decisive battle in the 1798 Rebellion. We went to a museum in Enniscorthy dedicated to the 1798 Rebellion. Then we went back to Greystones for dinner in Coolnagreina.

"Older than the pyramids"

Yesterday we went to Newgrange, a Neolithic passage tomb constructed in 3200 BC. As Vance told us about 65 times last semester, the mound predates Giza by 500 years and Stone Henge by 1000 years. We got to the visitor center a half hour early and browsed the museum for a bit. We watched a short video about the speculated purposes of the tomb (people weren’t really buried there) and then took a shuttle to the tomb itself. The pre-Celtic people who built Newgrange aligned it with the sunrise of the winter solstice so that the sun lights an inner room for 17 minutes a year on that day. We got to go in the tomb itself and see a simulation of what that would look like.

Here is a photo of the passage tomb:



We walked around outside for a bit and took photos until our shuttle came back to take us to the visitor center. We ate sack lunches in a nice picnic area near the visitor center and then went to Mellifont Abbey, an old Cistercian monastery that was once home to 14 monks. Today, it’s in ruins, but some of the main structures, like their bath house, are still recognizable.

Next we went to Monasterboice which is basically a cemetery with two high crosses (one the tallest in Ireland, I think) and a round tower. We spent a good 15 minutes there before boarding the bus again for Slane Hill.

Slane Hill was a hill where St. Patrick lit a fire on Easter. The lighting of this fire made the high king of Ireland rather angry because it interfered with one of the Celtic holidays (Beltane maybe?). The king came to Christ, though, so all is well. Anyway, now there’s a cemetery and some ruins at the top of the hill, so other people in my group climbed on those a lot. I’m afraid of heights, so I didn’t do much climbing.