IRELAND

BIRDS

In one of the glass cases at Dublin’s Natural History Museum, I saw a  bird with a red breast labeled “Robin.” It is half the size of our American Robin I saw this bird on a shrub in the ancient cemetery in Glendalough. The stuffed magpie and jackdaw were new to me. At Rock of Cashel ruins, we heard the calls of jackdaws who flew about and nested in small square openings in the rock wall. The jackdaw is in the crow family.

The first floor of the museum is a long 70 foot hall filled with taxidermy. Most animals had no connected habitat. A huge skeleton of a Right Whale hung from the ceiling. The stuffed rhino’s glass eyes stared like security camera. One tiny specimen, the least shrew, could fit into a teaspoon, “the smallest mammal” on the label. The wood floors creaked and on the walls, many antlers from the Giant Red Irish Deer. On both ends of the hall, iron grill work and mosaic tiles caught my eye. I made a rubbing and captured three different designs.

FULFILLED DREAMS

I imagined two things I wanted to do in Ireland…see flocks of sheep on broad, green pastures; and listen to Irish music in a pub. We did both.  Driving along the Irish Sea coast, a flock of huge black-headed sheep grazed along the roadside. Hedgerows prevent drivers from pulling over out of traffic. We found a pullout, and had a rare opportunity to linger and photograph. These sheep were the largest I’ve seen. Some looked the size of a pony. The sheep are raised for meat, not wool.  We had lamb stew in the restaurant in the Hunt Museum and loved it. We had great views of the Shannon River in this charming café during our first whole day in Ireland. The castles, the museums, and the cathedrals were astounding.

Our last night was spent in the Old Ground Hotel in Ennis near where we would depart next morning. I asked the clerk at the registration desk if there was pub that featured Irish music. “Cruise’s,” she said. We had dinner in a small room with a fire blazing. Its fuel was peat, which doesn’t crackle like wood. I wanted to visit a peat bog. This desire in and of itself will require another visit to Ireland. Nancy and I decided that Ennis was the town we’d stay in to tour the west coast on our next trip. Ennis is a portal for tourists that visit the scenic towns and cliffs. We walked the town and decided this was the next destination.

Three musicians set up in front of a fireplace, a bagpiper, banjo, and flute players. After sipping pints of tangy Irish brew, then began to play in 4/4 time, a foot-stomping pace that quickly penetrates everybody. Nancy started to dance a reel. The musicians blended with shrill pipe notes, the sharp plunks of the banjo, and whistle tones from the flute. The waitress said “Come in August for the festival. There are 400,000 people here!” Nancy and I chose January for our trip for the lower overnight rates and in between time as Nancy returns to her MFA writing program soon after we return.

Nancy has an Irish passport and is ¾ Irish. One of her goals was to return to her grandfather’s farm in Rosenallis which is in the midlands. The other goal was to reconnect with her second cousins, Betty and Polly in Dublin and Wicklow. She thinks she recognizes the place after several trips up and down narrow roads with hedgerows that block peripheral viewing. But a new stockade fence blocks the courtyard. Later we learn the old house has passed out of the family.

FOOD

Meals were served promptly. White pepper instead of black; fresh butter; bacon is not salty and wider; beef is excellent; baked beans for breakfast; lamb stew – superb; and the basic food…beer and hardy black bread. And the water, with no chlorine, smells like water, fresh and delicious, which inspired the following poem:

A GLASS OF IRISH WATER

I fill a thick-bottomed glass/a liquid full of history/limestone rock layers leech calcium/ step dancers feet have clomped their sound into this water/pennywhistle notes too/ the sheep, horses, pigs add their identity/ the smiles, the brogue, all in this glass/ I drink Ireland/ in the brew in pubs/ filtered water from soil and rocks/I hoist a glass of water/ toast the people/ the place.

We had breakfast in a cafeteria in Dublin. It was crowded with mostly Dubliners and I felt like I was Irish.

SAINT MARY’S CHURCH IN LIMERICK

The first church we visited is 1,000 years old. The Lepers Squint is a small slot in the wall where lepers could receive Holy Communion. Leprosy was more common two centuries ago. This feature inspired the following poem:

THE LEPERS SQUINT

A narrow slot in the wall/ just enough for lepers to receive holy communion/ the unclean,  unwanted, rejected/ still faithful enough to come/ while the holy parishioners inside feel safe/ the lepers see cold gray limestone blocks/ the “faithful” inside see ornate brass candelabras/ carved stone pulpit/stained glass windows/alters/statues/ carved oak mercy seats so the choir can be seated while they appear standing/magnificent huge solid oak doors imply/keep out lepers/where are their mercy seats?/ all the grace the lepers need flows through a tiny slit in a wall.

DUBLIN NATIONAL LIBRARY

Nancy and I toured an exhibit on World War I. Handwritten letters from soldiers; posters; videos; one post card with a short message “we deeply regret to inform you…” Nancy wondered if her grandfather was in the war. She said, “I learned a lot more about Irish history and the Easter Rising of 1916. The English could not draft Irish soldiers. The Irish were encouraged to join the fighting. This ratcheted up the desire for home rule and break from British domination.” One of the posters said: “Your first duty is to take your part in ending the war. Join an Irish Regiment to-day.”

BOOK OF KELLS

Trinity College has a museum devoted to the creation of ancient manuscripts. The Book of Kells is the main attraction. Monk scribes used ultimate patience to practice their art. Sacred texts were painstakingly created letter by letter, word by word, page by page, each with a superb illustration of a single letter. Nine scribes and four illustrators worked TWENTY YEARS to create one book. The exhibits showed the step-by-step process from stretching sheepskin, creating various colors for the illustrations, making inks, binding, and elaborate and delicate illustrations. Illustrators used their creativity to change drawings frequently. The Book itself is in a darkened room.

WICKLOW

Nancy wanted to visit her second cousins who live in Wicklow, a suburb 20 miles south of Dublin. I found the Grand Hotel in the travel guide. When we registered, the clerk gave us an actual key. We settled in, then visited John and Betty Wilson at their row house on Lietrim Place which is on Lietrim River, a tidal estuary flowing into the Irish Sea. “This is the shortest river in Ireland.” said John, a retired veterinarian. We were invited into the room with a fire going and several plushy chairs. John gave us a book of poems by Robert Service. While Nancy and Betty caught up, I got to know John better. There were many works of art on the walls. John gave me thr tour. “I bought this one on our honeymoon. I liked the subtle light.” This prompted me to ask about how he met Betty.  “We’ve been married for 47 years.”

Nancy is ¾ Irish and holds an Irish passport. This was Nancy’s fifth visit, the first for me. Betty invited us to dinner the following night. “I was fresh out of veterinarian school when I visited Betty’s house. She has five sisters and they were all sitting together in the parlor. The mother suggested he pick one to marry her off. John Picked Betty and married her. “I had the chance to go to South Africa to practice there. I bought a VW Camper and each weekend explored. I found one village where a military action was taking place. I left quickly.” John and I walked along the Lietrim River. At one point he shared one of the many Irish aphorisms. “…a plum to be picked at a later stage.” Referring to his lack of experience at the beginning of his career.

The next evening, after dinner, we returned to the fireplace where John played his harmonica and Clare her guitar. Their Down syndrome son, Dan, entered and I talked with him. “I jingle the collection basket at church” Betty says he encourages donations. He has a full life because Betty and John have made sure that he is busy. He showed us an award he won, puffed up with pride. Betty offered us some Jameson’s whisky. I’ve had it in Irish coffee. This time it was straight whisky. The first sip was sharp, strong, and tasty. I swallowed it after letting it linger on my tongue. Later at an airport liquor store, a bottle cost 36 euros.  To have genuine Irish hospitality topped off many experiences we had during the ten day trip.

DUBLIN

Nancy booked us into the Shelburne Hotel located on St Stevens Square in central Dublin. By far, this was the most luxurious. Brass in the lift, brass, railings, brass frames, brass, brass. The valet wore a top hat and whisked our car away, in the room, the bed was so high, my feet didn’t touch the floor. Hanging on the bathroom door, meticulously folded thick, white bathrobes; a telephone in the bathroom and every glass had a coaster with the hotel insignia. This how they get the big bucks. It has a history room where photos of Grace Kelly and John Kennedy were famous guests. We were able to walk to all museums and churches. I’ve never experienced plush. This hotel is double plush plush, extra plush, super plush, over the top plush. We returned to the room three times, and each time there were new mints on the pillow…high test plush, beyond plush.

THE NATIONAL ARCHEOLOGY MUSEUM

For me, this is the best museum I’ve ever experienced and it was free. Five of human habitation in Ireland starting from the Stone Age on up. Right off, a long dugout canoe caught my eye. Over a thousand years old, it was dredged from a bog. Bogs kill decomposing fungi and bacteria, so this intact boat had to be treated to prevent decay after being taken from the bog. The story of “the bog men” that were discovered in bogs is fascinating. Three special circular rooms had cases enclosing dark brown humans. One was just a headless chest, but its arms were intact and the fingers on one hand showed no sign of decay. This museum deserves at least an entire day. The architecture alone is fascinating.  One room was set aside for a leather bound book found in the bog. Some readable pages survived called Psalters –a collection of prayers from the Book of Psalms, over 1200 years old. Artifacts from the Vikings and Normans on the second floor were the turning point. I was saturated after two intense hours.

MATINS

Nancy wanted to attend Vespers at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. We were not allowed to enter because the event was in progress. We returned the next morning for Matins. A priest, director, choir master, and finally a double line of boys in surplice and cassock entered. The boys took their choir seats and sang. The very first word from the throats of these angelic voices resounded throughout the huge cavernous rock structure. Nancy and I were the only attendees.

THE DUBLIN SPIRE

Nancy pointed out places on the columns in front of the Post Office where  the kickoff to the Easter Rebellion took place. Across the way, in the median on O’Connell Street, there is a large stainless steel pin-like monument. It is the world’s tallest public art object- 390 feet. I looked up from the base and could not see the tip. The base is 9 feet in diameter and the tip is 4 inches. It is also called the spire O Connell St Dublin. Two other sculptures were James Joyce and Molly Malone. There seemed to be as many sculptures in the churches as outdoors.

THE FAMINE CEMETERY

We learned from Gerry and Dorothy, proprietors of the Central House B & B in Tipperary town, that a short distance from their place was the Famine Cemetery. This is the only B & B we stayed in. we talked during breakfast:

“I grew up on a farm with four brothers. We worked growing tillage crops (–turnips and potatoes.”) “After my brothers left, I worked with my father. When he died, I sold the farm and bartended in pubs.  I bartended in Texas for a while, returned to Tipperary, married Dorothy and started this business.”

The Famine Cemetery had many new gravestones, is surrounded by a rock wall, and has one plaque. Many of those who died were buried in mass graves, thus open grass with only a few stone markers. The plaque reads: THE GREAT FAMINE TIPPERARY WORKHOUSE FEVER HOSPITAL AUGUST 1847 THEIR IDENTITY IS KNOWN ONLY TO GOD.

WEATHER

Cloudy skies predominated. Half the time, the weather was cloudy in the morning, sunshine in the afternoon, back to cloudy in the late afternoon. It rained and drizzled a few days with temperatures in the 40’s

ROCK OF CASHEL

Just as a mockingbird likes to perch as high as it can, so to the builders of a magnificent castle and monastery in the town of Cashel. Limestone bedrock was lifted during the great continental drift episode. Situated about 100 feet above the surrounding landscape, this was the ideal place to erect a castle. Monks toiled for at least 20 years shaping the rocks for the walls and arches.

Nancy and I toured the site. The arches…how did they build them? Huge limestone rocks were hoisted by pulley rope, scaffolding, and muscle power. The pointed and rounded archways for doors and windows show the ingenuity these monks had 1200 years ago without cranes and other present technology. How did they stay warm? They cut down trees. Today only 7 % of Ireland is forested. Dozens of black birds the size of crows called jackdaws whistled and flew about the walls. These birds favored the square-shaped dens in the walls perching and nesting there. Views of the flat landscape showed hedgerows. Around the castle, whit lichen patches covered massive Celtic tombstones. The walls and turrets had narrow windows. This structure was built for defence.

GLENDALOUGH

Another monastery that we visited, at least 1000 years old is nestled in a valley at the confluence of two rivers. Glendelough is a National Park open to the public. There are hiking trails, a museum, a large cemetery, two stone buildings, and a 100-foot-tall tower. We visited on a weekend and had to park two miles away and walk to the site. This monastic settlement has an area for manuscript writing and copying. The tower was used as a lookout for visitors and as a bell tower to call monks back from their work. There is a small cave that St Kevin used as a hermitage. These buildings were erected in the 1oth and 11 the centuries. The cemetery had many gravestones with sheep resting on a cross.

727 AIRBUS DEPARTURE JFK

We file down narrow aisles to narrow seats and settle in for 7 ½ hours. I get a window, fumble for seat belt, and fit my 23 inch wide body into the 20 inch seat. The low rumble of jet engines; the required safety lesson; the taxi to the take off runway is almost as long as flight time. Ah, at last, it’s our turn, the jets rev up, the fuselage shakes and we accelerate to 70 MPH. this is the 100 yeard dash in 45 seconds and we are airborne. An astounding complexity of technology we are sitting on. The jet engines remind me of fly larva. We level off at 33,000 feet at 530MPH with on outside temperature of 79 F. Our jet stream tail wind saves us gas. I squeeze into the bathroom and hear a sucking noise coming from the sink. I cover it with my hand and the suction is so strong I have to pull it away. I’m thinking getting sucked right out to fall in “the pond.”

RETURN FLIGHT

Aer Lingus flies out of Shannon,  an hour east to Heathrow. It turns out that we are a captive audience. The green-clad stewardeses push carts down the aisle selling things. The PA systemis turned up loud.  Finally, we boarded the American Airlines 777-200 seating capacity 230. It was snowing. The captain announces. De-icing. “It will only take a few minutes.” It took ¾ hour. We taxied behind a dozen other planes for another ¾  hour and finally our turn came. I watched for our plane to turn right. It turned left and soon the captain announced that the flight is cancelled due to a rule that pilots can only operate aircraft for 9 hours. They were over the limit due to de-icing time and wait time. BAM. Get luggage, show passport, patdown, etc, bus to Hilton, dinner and breakfast and  bus back to airport…patdown, passport, boarding pass, security check. Bam, finally my 20 inch seat for my 23 inch body.

We will return to Ireland

Special thanks for editing by Nancy Keating