Where Everybody Speaks Your Language - Kind Of

Disclaimer:

There was SO much on this trip that we will try to confine ourselves to the weird/interesting stuff we encountered. There were a zillion castles, abbeys, country estates etc. which were lovely (and we might include photos of some) but the real grist in the mill is the weird stuff we saw and learned. Just google the castle/historical sights if you are interested and you'll learn more than I'll ever tell you.


Finally, an Easy Trip - Kind of

We were excited to be going on a trip where everyone spoke English even if they did drive on the "wrong" side of the road.  We were on our way to the British Isles for five weeks after spending some family time with Michael's sister Mary and her family and our "almost family" friends Todd and Donna. It all seemed easy enough.  We landed in Dublin and picked up our car.  We'd bought a package that included airfare, car and Castle Hotels (more on that in a minute).  The agency provides you with  a sample itinerary which seemed fine -- that's when I still thought Ireland was a small, manageable country with actual roads.  Generally speaking, it is not a super idea to drive for five hours, on the "wrong" side of the road when you have taken an 8 hour red eye and are jet lagged.  But our first "Castle" was near Waterford and if we wanted to bed down that was where we had to go.  Adding salt to our own wounds, we decided to stop at Powers Court Castle and Gardens  and planned to take a look at Powers Court Waterfall as well.

The view from the fountain back to Powers Court Castle.

The view from the steps leading down from the castle to the fountain and beyond.

The gardens directly behind the castle were very formal.

Another fountain and pool by the castle.

The cemetery overlooked the colorful rhododendrons, which were in full bloom.

Our timing was perfect to see many colorful blooming flowers.

There was also a Japanese garden on the estate as well. As you will see later on we also wandered through the Japanese garden at the National Stud. Looking back at our past blogs, we have toured at least six Japanese gardens.

I have to include this quintessential photo of the grazing sheep with the green mountains in the background.

As we approached the Castle the road leading to the Waterfall was closed off with Crime Scene tape.  Hmmm.  The ticket person refused to discuss it other than to call it "the regrettable incident".  Well, no waterfall for us. We stumbled through the Castle and Gardens, threw ourselves back in the car and, rather astoundingly, we made it in one piece to our first Castle Hotel.  So, let's talk about what may be considered a Castle Hotel.  We stayed in eight of them.  Some really were Castles at one point (4), and others were really just (big) Country House Hotels(4).  But, I guess, Castle Hotel has a better ring than Castle Hotel/ Just Big House Hotels  Some of them had only the facade standing and, once in the door, were as modern as a Marriott while others were so "authentic" that they had no elevators.

 So we arrive at Country House #1, Faithlegg House.  As we pull up to reception we gaze to the right and see the most horrifying sight an independent tourist can view -- a tour bus!  It is a tour bus filled with the oldest, most decrepit, wheelchair and walker dependent occupants we have ever seen. We have landed in an episode of Fawlty Towers. Already there are scuffles breaking out about walker ownership.  Luckily, we were able to beat the octogenarians (I am being kind) to the lobby, grabbed our key and fled.  Actually, we never saw them again.  I hope they are OK....

Our first Country House stop at Faithlegg, which also featured an eighteen hole golf course.

Trial by Fire

We are both excited about seeing the Ring of Kerry -- one of the Jewels of Ireland.  We know it will be a long day going from Waterford through the Ring (the Ring itself can take 6-7 hours) but we are psyched and ready for the challenge.  So, we make it to the Ring in good time and consult our guide book which lists about 30 "must see" stops on the Ring.  We make it to stop 2 following the guide.  We are hungry and stop at Katie Kearney's Cottage Kitchen for some lunch.  We should have backtracked to the "official Ring" but instead we enter the Gap of Dunloe. This is a BIG mistake. Whereas the Ring hugs the Coast, through a slight miscalculation on our part, we end up going across the peninsula, through the mountains, on a road that was about two feet wide -- OK, maybe seven.  It was (in order):  terrifying, rough, terrifying, terrifying, terrifying.  That said, about a third of the way through, an evil boulder leapt out of the side of the road and, with no provocation, attacked our car from the lower passenger's side door to rear bumper.  My description is designed to make Michael feel entirely blameless in this "regrettable incident".

This brings us to insurance.  There are only three countries (known as the terrible "I"s) where you have to buy collision.  They are Ireland, Israel and Italy.  We bought everything we could since we knew (or thought we did) what we'd be up against.  Usually we brush off car agents trying to jack up the rate with unnecessary insurance but this time, providentially, we didn't.  Well, we didn't see much of the Ring of Kerry but it was an interesting day.

On our way to the Ring of Kerry we stopped at Lismore Castle. A castle has been located on the spot since 1185.  At one point Sir Walter Raleigh leased & then bought the castle. The castle also had magnificent gardens.

This was the widest part of the road off the Ring of Kerry. I could actually stop and take a picture of this pony cart traveling the road.

You can see the narrow ribbon of road wending its way through the Gap of Dunloe.

A bridge & small falls on the road.

You can see the two large boulders that make the road even narrower in the foreground.

One of the many beautiful lakes in the Ring of Kerry.

This was Parknasilla, our second Country House, which was quite posh & featured Irish country music on their pub at night.

Please, No More

As you nay know, Ireland had a vote on legalizing abortion in late May.  Well, we walked right into it.  I have never seen so many fetus displayed on banners/signs/photos since we drove through Tennessee.  Needless to say, the anti-abortion folks were the sponsors of these.  From every light post (almost literally) across the country anti-abortion sentiments were displayed.  Pro-Choice folk probably had only 1/3 the banners/signs/no photos and were much more subtle (which wouldn't be hard).  Since we were driving A LOT we were bombarded with these messages until we wanted to scream.  Well, 70% voted to legalize abortion (within limits) which surprised even the pro-choice people.  Ireland has become very secular.  The priest scandal started it, the Madeline Laundries didn't help and the festering abortion issue showed how much the Irish are moving away from the Church.  After the vote, Pope Francis kind of said, "Oh well, let's move on to South America and Africa."  I guess when you lose Ireland you've lost Europe.  Ireland moves forward and, with the new situation on the Supreme Court, America is poised to potentially move backward.  Sigh....... Michael, please insert some lovely, totally unrelated photos that have nothing to do with abortion.  Thanks.

The cliffs of Moher where Deirdre demonstrated that she has overcome her fear of heights.

We actually did see some cows in Ireland in addition to the thousands of sheep.

Crab traps on the dock in Roundstone Ireland.

The harbor in Roundstone with the mountains in the background.

Proof that there are beautiful white sand beaches in Ireland.

An abandoned, ruined castle near Clifden.

I couldn't resist a picture of this blackface sheep. The farmer's spray paint their sheep to identify them.

When walking through the site of Marconi's transatlantic wireless station, we came across this mountain of peat.

The view looking down from the heights of Clifden.

Two of the most original and stylish scarecrows we have encountered in our travels.

Ireland -- the Poor Man's New Zealand

As we cruised through the countryside of Ireland, I kept saying to Michael:  "You know,  if you squint up your eyes. this kind of reminds me of New Zealand".  Michael made his unique snuffling sound which implies:  "Maybe, probably not, but I don't want to get into it with you."  A bit miffed I held my tongue.  Two nights later at the bar of another castle hotel. a Kiwi couple walked in and said to the bartender:  " Your country reminds us a lot of New Zealand".  SCORE!!  So why you might ask.  Sheep.  So many sheep.  In New Zealand there are 7 sheep per person whereas in Ireland there are "only" 1.5 per person.  But that is still a lot.  Both countries have a North and South although Ireland has two countries and New Zealand one, while Ireland is one island and New Zealand is two.  Both have populations with quirky and sardonic humor. Neither has a poisonous creature (yeah!).  Ireland even has a little fiord (time to squint).  Both are very green and rainy.  So, just consider all this if you have to make a travel choice..  One third of the air cost, one quarter/third of the air time and you are in Ireland.  But I still think New Zealand is cooler.

Strange Bedfellows

A few days of normal sightseeing went by and then we visited Strokestown Manor.  The Manor was inhabited by a British family who systematically exploited the Irish in innumerable ways.  One way was to ship every agricultural product that wasn't potatoes to England.  This meant the Irish ate potatoes.  And, basically, only potatoes.  Guess how much the average Irish person ate potato-wise each day.  Give up?  14 pounds.  That is correct.  In order to get the protein they needed they had to wolf down that many potatoes each day.  Needless to say, when the potato crops failed they starved. Over a million starved and a million emigrated.  Actually, the owner at that point was a fairly decent guy and paid for many of his tenants to emigrate.  However, the overseer was a creep.  One day, the unhappy remaining tenants decided to kill the overseer but, in a case of mistaken identity killed the owner.  How to make a bad situation worse.  On another bizarre note, an earlier owner had gone off to fight the War of 1812 and died in America.  His family was overwrought and wanted his body returned.  Lacking embalming capabilities they came up with the solution of placing him in a large keg and filling the keg with rum to pickle him.  However, upon arrival the keg was empty of rum. The sailors were desperate people apparently and had helped themselves to the rum.  This was the single most disgusting anecdote we collected on our journey.

Inexplicably, a decision had been made to house the Irish Famine Museum in the stables of Strokestown Manor which seemed quite insensitive to me.  It was profoundly depressing so I won't go into it.

Photos of some of the rooms at Strokestown Manor.

A high chair or a torture chair, it was hard to determine.

Quite a few toys & costumes in the playroom.

Cooking the old fashioned way.

There is Nothing Like a Stud

We were starting to get castled and manor house exhaustion so decided to do something different and visit the Irish National Stud and Gardens.  It was a beautiful place with beautiful horses and flowers. But the story behind it was more fun.  There was a son of a titled Englishman who was sent to serve in India.  He wasn't going to inherit the title (big bro was) and he REALLY wanted one.  When he came back, the family sent him to Ireland because he was sort of the black sheep.  He started the Stud and was really successful.  He believed in astrology and mated the horses according to the stars or some such malarky.  But it seemed to work.  To curry favor, and get a title, he gave the King of England his finest horse.  And the horse won the Epsom Derby (pronounced DARBY) under the King's colors. Only time ever. To the founder's dismay, the King did not award him a title.  But the King DID have his eye on Col. Walker's (the owner) wife. In a display of flagrant neediness of title, he encouraged the wifey to comply.  Zingo!  He got the title....  When Ireland gained its independence, the British gallantly turned over the Stud to the government -- after they had removed every horse, saddle etc. they could get their hands on.  To the impoverished government's credit they kept the Stud and turned it into a world class breeding farm.

A pony and a mare at the National Stud.

Deirdre greeting one of the horses.

There were quite a few new fillies & colts.

All of the studs had their prices posted. This one was 120,000 Euro for each mating.

This stud proudly posed for his photo.  We mean the horse.

Pictures of the Japanese garden at the National Stud.

In another garden of the National Stud all the fairies hung out with signs with their names and their purpose. However we never saw one.

The Wonderful Barn

In Atlas Obscura I found an article about the Wonderful Barn.  Showing that not all landowners were hopeless jerks, this one person hired all the tenants who had nothing to do and were starving to build the barn.  Nobody knows exactly what its purpose was.  Some say a dovecote while others say a granary modeled after an Indian (Asian) grain keep.  But what a barn.  Photos tell the tale.

The corkscrew barn.

Equally fascinating was this funnel shaped silo near the barn.

Well, that's it for this installment.  Next blog we'll finish up Ireland -- still all of Northern Island and some of the Republic to go.  Not to mention Scotland, England and Wales....  Take care, enjoy the summer and stay in touch.