Chapter 9

The Emerald Isle

The flight to Belfast was short and sweet....before we knew it we had made our way, via shuttle, to the bus station, figured out which bus would take us to Dublin and were whisked through west Northern Ireland on down to the happening hub of a station at Dublin. Although the next few hours were confusing, exhausting and bewildering we realized right away that we liked Dublin. We enjoyed the old stone buildings and the park, even as we toted our baggage along the crowded sidewalks amid hundreds of thousands (well, that's what it felt like!!!) of pedestrians and cars. Why did it seem that they knew exactly where they were going and what they were doing while we, functioning on minimal sleep and trying to adapt to a new country, stumbled and bumbled our way through money changing (they use the euro in Ireland), buying a map, finding the car rental agency, and making our way out of the city as quickly and cautiously as we could. It's all a bit of a blur, I confess, but one incident that stands out in my memory was when a pretty, young woman of middle eastern descent grabbed my arm and implored me to give her money. I shook my head and then she clutched my hand and pushed it down on her very pregnant belly, pleading, "For the baby!!! For the baby!!!" I explained that I didn't have any money for her (this was before we changed our money) and tried to loosen her grasp. She held on, asking my name so that she could pray for me. I finally pulled free, but her desperate voice followed me down the sidewalk - "What is your name? I want to pray for you. What is your name? Please tell me your name!!!" I felt her fingers on my arm for the rest of the day and even now, almost imagine I can feel the grip of her hand, and see her pleading eyes. It is hard to walk away from someone in need...and it is a shame that con-artists and criminals have made us so wary of those who ask for help.

Wicklow, known as the garden of Ireland, isn't very far from Dublin, and Mom had specifically asked that we visit there if it worked out, for the genealogy research she had done revealed that we come from the clan O'Byrne - many of whom are from Wicklow and the surrounding area. We found a nice little eatery and had dinner before checking into our second and last B&B...and for a "splurge night", it was worth every penny!!! The Glen-na-smol Bed and Breakfast is run by a nice and efficient lady named Fiona....Fiona Byrne!!!! When we heard her name, we were so excited and told her the reason that brought us to Wicklow. She smiled indulgently at us as she explained that every other person in the county was named Byrne!!! Wow, we have a lot of relatives!!! She showed us up the lovely staircase to the perfectly wonderful lilac-colored bedroom, with two clean, fragrant twin beds and a bathroom of our very own attached to it!!! My, how luxurious that all felt!!! We had been informed that there would be live Irish music at the Bridge Tavern that night, but it wasn't scheduled to start till 9:30, so we cleaned up, and Tera caught up in her journal while I...fell asleep!!! Later, still very tired, we went to the tavern and ordered a couple of cokes as we waited and waited and waited for the music to start . Finally, about a quarter after 10, the band did begin to play. We held out for three songs, and even though they were good, we just couldn't stay awake, so we went back to our wonderful lilac room, crawled into our clean, scented sheets and slept soundly.

The next morning we went down to a perfectly scrumptious and very hearty breakfast - wherein we discovered and fell in love with hazelnut yogurt!!! There were two brothers from Minnesota dining as well, and we had a great time swapping stories about travel and then about growing up in a big family, for one was the oldest and one the youngest of eight - quite an enjoyable way to start the day. We checked out of our little haven and looked for a laundromat in town...but there was none to be found!!! Instead we learned that it's very rare to find a laundromat outside of the cities in Ireland...though good-sized towns do have laundry service. So we dropped our dirty clothes off to be cleaned by someone else, which was very strange for both of us!!! - and went to visit the Wicklow Historic Gaol - a jail that was in operation from 1702 all the way to 1924. We learned so much about Irish history in our short visit there. The actors/tour guides did an incredible job portraying different characters from the past, and we both felt it well worth our time and money. During the years that the gaol was in operation, thousands of prisoners came through...sometimes the conditions were horrific, sometimes the innocent were condemned. "...young and old, men, women and children, guilty and innocent passed through its doors. The story of Wicklows Historic Gaol is their story. The exhibition covers such episodes as the 1798 rebellion, the famine, life in the gaol during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and transportation to the penal colonies of Australia."Truly fascinating as well as extremely informative. Many of the prisoners were in rebellion to the English - and it was there we began to see that the fighting in Northern Ireland is caused by that same spirit of freedom. It isn't about the Catholics and Protestants (as we have always been taught), so much as about the Irish continuing to fight to get English rule out of their country...

After picking up our nice clean laundry, we headed towards Glendalough, through the beautiful Wicklow Mountains. We were certainly on a quest at this point...to find Mom some new beaters for her bodhran. We'd been told there was a bodhran maker in that area and that he could help us, so off we drove through the rain and mist, over winding, narrow roads till we came to the Irish Music Visitor Centre...and found just what we were looking for, and more!!! Daryl Corrigan is a young bohdran maker who has a shop there between Glendalough and Laragh. And DID he ever have beaters!!! So many different styles and sizes...how in the world were we to know what Mom wanted??? Daryl tried to be helpful, and asked what sort she used. You should try describing someone else's bohdran beater that you aren't very familiar with...it's harder than you think!!! Finally, he laughingly told us that we were "...brilliant, and I could listen to you describing this all day long!!!" So we came up with the "brilliant" idea of calling mom and letting him talk to her himself!!! That was perhaps the most fun we had in 20 minutes ever. It was BRILLIANT!!! Of course Mom was pretty excited to be talking to a "real Irishman!!!" but we had a great time listening to the conversation on our side!!!

"Mum? How are you, Mummy?....Jest fine, tank ya'!! Tell me about your sticks...7 inches?" Aside to us - "What's 7 inches?" (because they use the metric system there.) "Well, I have one here with a knob on each end about the size of a grape." "Not a grape," say we. "More like a gourmet olive!!!" "What?!?!? How big are your grapes over der?" "How's da wedder over der? 90 degrees???" Aside to us, (because they use Celsius) "What's 90 degrees?"...HOT!!! "Oh, they say it's hot!!!"...."They look just fine...they went to a pub last night, but they're alright!!! They say they love you...Tell me about your band." When he hung up he said, "Your Mother sounds lovely." We agreed. So leaving behind a couple of very jolly hours, we left his shop with four new beaters for mom to try. She loves them!!!

We spent the night in the 15th century Foulksrath Castle near Kilkenny. It was dark before we reached the castle, but after we parked and walked into the courtyard, we saw a little ivy covered cottage that was part of the wall around the castle. The door was open and a lamp was on, and it looked so cozy and inviting...imagine how delighted we were to find that the gardener's cottage, or guard house or whatever it was, would indeed be our room for the night!!! The castle didn't look very big or imposing from the outside, but inside we kept hitting on treasures everywhere we went. We made our supper in the kitchen, really enjoyed stepping into the medieval dining room, and then climbed the spiral staircase up to a common room and chatted with an Aussie couple and the castle keeper for a while. We learned that night about how being part of the European Union is affecting Ireland, and some of the Irish are saddened by the changes. Seems foreigners are coming in and buying up property and then fencing it off and padlocking gates...that is a switch from the traditional Irish way of walking paths throughout, and stiles and kissing gates where fences are necessary. We had been told the first day that we were in the country, that we were seeing "the last of the best of Ireland", but the lady who said that sadly told us she didn't want to discuss it with us...said it was just too depressing to think about. It felt like listening to this gentleman was confirmation and a bit more information of what she had indicated. After the conversation, we headed for our little haven of a room, and loved it...even with the ivy growing through to the inside!!!

The next morning, we left before anyone was up...and drove straight on to Waterford to tour the world renowned Waterford Crystal factory. It was splendid!!!

We loved and were fascinated by every bit or the tour...and could have hung out all day just watching them work with the glowing molten crystal. After the shape is formed it goes to a room where men at work carefully etched different designs into the glass. You have to go to school for 5 years to become a master cutter!!! WOW!!!

After the tour of the factory, we lingered about the showroom, and picked out souvenirs. Those were some hard decisions!!!

That afternoon we drove through the outskirts of Cork to an adorable, bustling touristy town of Kinsale - it reminded us quite a bit of our beloved Annapolis - but the hostel there looked pretty scary from the outside, and neither of us had the heart to even try the inside, so we drove back up to Cork. After some complicated maneuvering through one way streets, up some pretty steep hills (and yes, this time our car was a standard!), and getting lost half a dozen times, we finally found our hostel for the night. Sheila's Hostel looked big, noisy and intimidating to us that night, but we really didn't want to drive anymore, so we went in...and ended up having an okay stay there. The staff was friendly, and in the kitchen after dinner we got into a really interesting discussion with a guy from Minnesota, a girl from Germany, and a girl from Ireland. It all started, I guess, when the German shared that she was a medical student and thought she would probably enter the geriatrics field, for that seemed to offer the most job security, though she would rather work with children. According to her, Germany's population is not even replacing itself, as women are going for careers and high paying jobs to pay off school debts until, when they finally get around to having a family, it's too late. From there, we talked about how Europe is changing, globalizing, as she put it, due to the EU. At first, both girls expressed hope and a positive outlook, "Things are changing, but we can't be scared of that change...we just have to adjust. Look at your country...it is a melting pot of culture, and that works for you!" The Americans in the situation - all three of us - talked about how sad it would be to see the separate countries loose the culture that is their heritage...their language, their traditions, their history. "We have no language of our own!", firmly stated the Irish lass. "You don't?!?!"...then she thought better of it, and amended - "Well, at least not one that many people use any more." Our point exactly!!! As we talked further, they shared concerns about how the addition of Turkey to the EU would cause problems, and wondered what their countries would be like in 20 years. We left the group to go to bed, but our room was near the kitchen, and as we tried to sleep we heard the three of them debating the subject late into the night. I do hope Ireland will find a way to hold on to itself, or it will meld with all the other cultures that are influencing it, and the world will have lost something wonderful.

Some of the best times we had on the trip were when we were looking for something for someone else!!! That's very true of our next day's adventure in Cobh (pronounced Cove), a small, pleasant town on an island in Cork Harbor. Not only is this town very picturesque, but it's history is rather significant. In just over a hundred years, over 2.5 million people emigrated from this port, and for many of them, the spectacular St. Coleman's Cathedral was the last view they ever had of their homeland. Survivors of the Lusitania disaster were taken to Cobh and many of the victims are buried there. Cobh was also the last port of call for the Titanic. The Cobh Heritage Center is an excellent museum portraying the hardships of the Irish, both before they set sail and after. It must have been a difficult decision for those people to move away from such a beloved land to unknown adventures in different countries.

After the museum, we visited the Farmer's Market set up on the water's edge, and enjoyed conversing with a cheerful and friendly lady who asked us a million questions about where we were from, what we had seen, where we were going and what we were planning. She was a kindred spirit, for sure, and we both felt a bit sad when we walked away, knowing we would never see her again. Didn't give our friend, Kent, any help with his genealogy research, but we certainly enjoyed our visit to Cobh!!!

From there, we headed for Killarney, which, we were told, is the start of the Ring of Kerry. After looking about the town a bit, we headed through the National Park toward Kenmare...every moment of every mile was magnificent!!! Every bend in the road revealed a knew breathtaking view, every stop along the way was spectacular. It was wonderful!!! Muckross Abbey was a delight, and once again, we were ready to become nuns on the spot and live in the Abbey forever...even if it was a ruin! The short walk to Torc Waterfall was enchanting, and we knew why those Irish believe in Leprechauns...wasn't that one we just saw peak out from behind that big mossy tree??? And no wonder they sing about the beauty of Killarney!!

"By Killarney's lakes and fells,
Em'rald isles and winding bays;
Mountain paths and woodland dells,
Mem'ry ever fondly strays...."

"...Still at Mucross you must pray,
Though the monks are now at rest.
Angels wonder not that man
There would fain prolong life's span..."

We saw more rainbows than we could count, and found ourselves looking for pots o' gold, for the end of the colorful arches were surely near.

"With the charmful tints below
Seems the Heaven above to vie,
All rich colours that we know
Tinge the cloud-wreaths in that sky.
Wings of Angels so might shine
Glancing back soft light divine,
Beauty's home Killarney,
Heaven's reflex Killarney."

Ah, what a drive that was!!! And the road took us right into Kenmare, and up to one of the cleanest, nicest hostels of the whole trip. Fáilte Hostel was at the top of the main street of the colorful, happening little town. We checked in and then took a walk, wandering about and peering into the little shops, when we saw a flyer advertising "Celtic Storm" performing at a hotel that night, and after one of the shopkeepers advised us that it was like a mini River Dance and well worth seeing, we bought tickets and hurried up the street to the hostel to make some dinner and get cleaned up.

There was this friendly young guy sitting at the kitchen table half-heartedly reading a book when we came in, and after some chit chat while Tera tried repeatedly and unsuccessfully to light the gas fire under a cooker, she asked if he had had any luck with it. He promptly stood up and came over to help, but couldn't get it going either. Tera found someone who had a lighter and the two of them got it lit. A bit later, as we were sitting enjoying our pasta, a man came in, and quickly lit the very same burner that they had such problems with!!! Our hilarious friend dramatically noted, "I failed you!" We both looked at him in wonder, and he proceeded. "I was the man of the situation. I should have been able to provide fire, and I failed you. In some deep, primitive way, I am ashamed." Exactly how serious he was, we will never know, but we were literally in hysterics!!! He asked what our plans were for the evening, and we invited him to come along with us, but with a grimace he informed us, "As a true Irishman, I simply cannot, but I'd be happy to join you for drinks afterward!" We never saw him again, but we will never forget him!

After we got to the show, we understood why a "true Irishman" wouldn't want to go. It wasn't bad, it was just...a wee bit hokey. Sort of like a wild west show here in Oklahoma, if you know what I mean. The music was really good though!

Coming soon...

Chapter 10

The Ring of Kerry

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