Little Old Church In The Wildwood

We had one more day while in Inverness to try and find Ardclach Parish and Lynmor where the children of Alexander and Christian Douglass were christened prior to their sailing to America.

I had been asking questions about the Cawdor Heritage Group of people wherever I had opportunity but got very confusing answers. I thought this group of people local to the area could give us the best current information. The Archives in Edinburgh had been disappointing. The information they had, I already had, names and dates, and places.

In Inverness, the Highlands Archives, gave us our first really good information: maps of the Ardclach area. While they would not copy the survey maps for us, they did allow Jon to take pictures with his phone camera, which he could then enlarge, so we could plan a route. When we walked into that Archive and said we were looking for information about our family that had lived in Ardclach Parish, in the village of Lynmore, a man spoke up immediately and said “it was not a village; Lynmore means large enclosure. They were farmers.” Finally! we had met someone who actually knew the area well! It was an Eureka moment for me. Inverness Archives further referred us to the Nairn Museum. This was only a few miles from Inverness, so it was no problem to stop in on our way through Nairn, headed for the only thing on the road map that, up to this time, had given us any hope: the Ardclach Bell Tower. 

We stopped for lunch in Nairn at the only restaurant listed in the guidebook, The Classroom. We had a lovely lunch and then we visited the Nairn Museum. Again we were most pleased. When we told the small group in Reception where we wanted to go and what we might find out about Ardclach Parish, the ladies all looked at each other and said to us, “you need to talk to John; he’ll be down directly for his tea”: What a pleasure it was again to talk to John who knew about the old church that was built in 1626, but he said, “ it’s all boarded up now”. We said we’re going anyway; we want to stand on the land our ancestors stood on; we want to look in the grave yard. We want to see where they christened their children. We learned that the Cawdor Heritage Group had actually had some of their archives in this museum on loan recently. We saw a few things upstairs before we were on our way again, like hounds on the scent, we had a strong feeling, this time we were going to find it. 

Using the pictures Jon had taken of the maps on his phone, he navigated us down many, many narrow, surprisingly well-paved country roads. Jon said they reminded him of the Zoar Road where I grew up. Then we saw the sign that said Ardclach Bell Tower and turned that way, found a place to park the car off the road a little, and followed the signs on foot. We climbed the arduous stairs up to the tiny belfry tower, (even I had to stoop to enter the door) Jon gave a tug on the bell pull, and then we drove down a steep zigzag road to the valley floor many hundred feet below where the old church still stands. John, at the Nairn Museum, told us the bell in the bell tower was from the old church, installed there when the little church closed. 

There was a van parked in a parking space at the church. We thought perhaps others were looking for their ancestors. Then we saw two men fly-fishing in the river behind the church. We wandered around the cemetery. A man was doing some work nearer to the church. Eventually our paths crossed. It turns out this man, John Hamilton, and a couple partners have purchased the building and grounds and John’s dream is to restore the church and make it available for occasional services or weddings or funerals. (There are graves still available in the church yard and evidence that a few families have recently updated their family monuments.) His father once preached in this little church, and he knows all the history. He even told us that when our Douglass family would have been going there, the windows in the church had been square. A few years after the Douglass family left, in 1779, a modest addition was made to the one room church and later arched stained glass windows had been installed. Of course many of those windows are broken now. John is retired and lives in his camper van, when he is working on the church. He says “what else am I going to do?” He is a man with a mission. 

We found no legible grave stones in the church cemetery that we could connect to our Douglass family, but there were familiar surnames there and Mr. Hamilton says the location of all the graves has been logged on some Ardclach website. The next challenge for me will be to find it.

We did it! I told Jon I don’t know exactly what I expected, but I didn’t expect this, meaning the rugged, hilly, forested land, the steep hills towering above the river bottom where the little church stands. Mr. Hamilton told us that once there was a bridge across the river a short distance below the church and families would come down the opposite hillside, which must have been a feat (they either walked or rode horses) and crossed the bridge to go to church services. When the bridge fell in, it was not replaced and the church closed. We figure the Douglass family would have come that route to church as Lynmor, or “large enclosure”, was across the Findhorn River, according to the survey map.

An Eminently Satisfying Day

It was a glorious morning, warm enough to go out without a coat or sweater, really. The sun was bright, only a few big puffy clouds in the sky, and after breakfast, (where the hotel allowed one to order porridge, I was happy to note) we set out from Inverness for Culloden Battlefield, only 6 miles away.

We arrived, fortuitously, just 5 minutes before a guided tour of the Battlefield was about to begin. The guide did a good job of giving the history leading up to the battle, explaining the positions of the two armies and their situations, their front lines, the sweep of the cannon, and the horrific loss of the Jacobites. We looked but found no record that any Douglasses were among the Jacobites, most of whom were slaughtered. Likely, if Alexander Douglass, who would have been in his early 20s in 1746, did fight in this determining battle, he was fighting on the side of the English troops. There was a listing of Scottish surnames of the Jacobites who lost their lives. Not all Jacobites were Scots; some were English or French.

After the tour, we looked at exhibits inside the museum. Of particular interest was a map, at least 12 ft. x 20 ft., on the floor, lit from beneath, that portrayed the battle showing the lines drawn up and an animated rendition of the battle as it progressed, following the movement of the soldiers of both sides. That was really fascinating, especially after having walked the battlefield. The battlefield has mass graves and is treated as sacred ground. We stepped into a amphitheater that reminded me of one we were in at DisneyLand. Films of reenactment of the battle were projected on all four walls and seeing the action “up close and personal” was too much for me. I needed to leave and so we did.

Next, on to Cawdor, only a few miles away, to eat at the Cawdor Tavern. We had a wonderful mushroom soup plus a tomato-cheese tart for me and a sandwich for Jon. We topped it off by sharing a lemon cheesecake dessert with vanilla ice cream on the side. Uhm-hum. The lemon fairly exploded in one’s mouth.

A short distance down the road was Cawdor Castle. I kept looking for the turrets of the keep above the trees and did not see any. But the signs guided us to the car park and we walked a short distance. There was a castle, small compared to those in Ireland we had visited, but complete with drawbridge and completely “dressed” as Jon would say, with period furniture, wonderful tapestries on the walls, complete bedchambers, art and portraits. All areas we walked on were carpeted with a tartan rug. Surely someone had actually lived here not too long ago. We saw references to the Earl of Cawdor in 1911. There was even a dungeon, where uninvited visitors could be dropped from the entry door into this pit that had some large stones in it. It would not be a nice place to be, even if one was lucky enough to survive the fall. 

Outside we walked through lovely castle gardens. I remarked to Jon that they had more than one gardener, for sure. Everything was manicured and kept up so nicely; lots of plantings, trimmed shrubbery, even a maze of holly bushes (maze not accessible because the holly bushes would not tolerate the traffic). We found the “hidden” garden which was truly lovely, and would be a great place to spend time in meditation. There were quantities of Bluebells of Scotland. Jon took many pictures.

As we were leaving, I asked who was responsible for the upkeep of the place and I was surprised to learn that Lady Cawdor is primarily responsible and takes great interest in the maintenance. The Earl has died, but Lady Cawdor is in residence at the Castle from November to April, during which time the Castle is closed to the public. She has a summer place where she spends the other months. The revenue from the tourists during the summer helps pay for the maintenance of the Castle and the grounds and gardens. No wonder it seemed like someone lived there; someone does. 

The sky got increasingly cloudy while we were in the Gardens, and rained on the drive  back to Inverness, but by the time we got there it had cleared again and the sun was out. We saw many sheep, even some black sheep in one pasture, and large red cattle with long hair falling over their faces. Watching the sheep in the pastures, I noted that they were always spaced out, never grazing near each other and wondered if sheep are like humans who have a feeling of personal space around their bodies. In this case, the space may mean “this is my patch of grass; buzz off.”

Inverness!

Inverness! From whence Alexander Douglass and his family boarded a sailing ship for America. I feel an attachment to this city. It is a beautiful city, lying along both sides of the firth which reaches inland from the sea. The water in the river runs swiftly, likely from the tides. 

We have been blessed with a beautiful day today, partly sunny, with the sky changing with each mile we drove from Edinburgh. We took Beth to the airport and were sorry to see her leave but she has a tour in two days and needs to be home. She took the extra luggage that was packed with their new purchases with her. Jon then got a rental car at Edinburgh airport. We had to ask for a different car as the first one did not fit us well and we had a long trip. The second car they offered was much better and we were glad we took the time to make the change.

Outside of Edinburgh, heading north we were traveling through the highlands, the mountains. It is largely forested, except for the places in the valleys that have farms. Looking across the valleys, the cleared fields look park-like, surrounded by trees. The numerous sheep contribute to that park feeling by keeping the grass neatly “mowed”. Many, many sheep in pastures along the road, with farmhouses and barns in the distance, very picturesque. At times the scenery called up the Adirondacks in summer with the little stores and tourist shops. The trees were much taller than those we saw in Ireland and the great variety of trees, both evergreen and deciduous, really gave meaning to the “40 shades of green” associated with Ireland, but much more apparent here in the Scottish highlands. We saw many really beautiful views in the mountains.

We stopped in Pitlachry (roll the r) to eat lunch at the Fern Cottage restaurant and ate outside, with a view of the village park where families were enjoying the sun and children were playing. We walked up the street a ways to see the shops. Took some pictures of the houses on the hillside above main street. In this village the tulips were in full bloom as well as the pansies and lilacs. There blooming was a strong reminder that it is generally colder here and especially in the highlands, so the flowers bloom later.

There were many places on the main route where signs warned Average Speed Zone. These are areas where cameras keep track of traffic. Our taxi driver, from the hotel to the airport, told us to beware the camera areas. They were very strict and the fine was 1000 British pounds! Jon was very careful. The roads were generally good; we opted out of the scenic route which would have taken us much longer. As it was, the trip took us longer than expected, because of the slow speed zones, but we got into Inverness about 6 pm, checked into the Premier Inn, situated on the west bank of the Firth. Then we discovered there was no place to park in the Inn’s car park and we would have to drive a few blocks to a long-term car park. No problem; we could easily walk back to find a restaurant. But when we got to the car park, the machines that issued the parking permit accepted only coins, and we had none. 

Because we were concerned that the long term car-park might be filled before we got back from eating supper, we drove across the river where Jon could find a place to make a small purchase and gain the ₤4.50 in coin necessary to leave the car overnight. Once the car was settled for the evening, we walked back to the restaurant that had vegetarian dishes on its menu. No, we had no reservation, and they were full; they did not suggest that we wait. Same result at our second choice restaurant. We tried a couple other places, same results. So we walked across the bridge and, as we walked, we could see people eating in a second story restaurant. It was an Indian restaurant. They had a very large menu and we had a nice meal there, seated at a window table, overlooking the river.

After supper we walked along the river to the pedestrian bridge and walked back to our hotel. Our rooms have no phones, but are complete with all other amenities, including wi-fi, and we will have breakfast here in the morning. Jon is checking on the availability of a fitness center, More tomorrow.

Advocacy Is No Ctrime

The Scots are used to the cool weather, it would appear, walking around in shirt sleeves and light jackets. When it gets drizzly, they don hats or hoods and sometimes carry umbrellas, but usually it’s the tourists with the umbrellas. Many Scots wear tights and the young people sometimes have the kneecap area cut out, or worn out, of their tights, perhaps a take-off on the ragged jeans fad that we saw in the US some years ago. They wear sturdy boots and shoes much more often here than in Dublin. Scarves, and capes and shawls are worn by both sexes. Lots of young men here have the same frame and stature that Jon does. Once both Beth and I thought we saw him coming in the crowd but it wasn’t him.

One morning I looked out the kitchen window of our apartment and across the way, a couple men had set up a table and were passing out leaflets. Their signs said “Advocacy is not a Crime” and “Justice for the Whistle Blower”. They were engaged in animated conversations with those pedestrians who accepted the leaflets. I saw other signs that indicated disrespect for the status quo was acceptable. There is an impression that the Scots feel their country's independence requires their constant regard and attention. They fought longer than we did for ours and their protagonist was much closer to their shores. We could use some of their vigilance.

Today the Edinburgh Castle was so shrouded in the mist that its outline was barely discernible. We went to the National Museum for an hour, each going to the area of one’s choice. I enjoyed the exhibits related to Scotland’s efforts to free itself from British domination and the exhibits about their scientific advances in medicine, mathematics and astrology. After that we headed to Wagamama again for lunch. We wandered through various shops and stopped to watch a street entertainer get himself out of a straight jacket. We saw a woman in one mini market who had so many piercings in her face, she looked like she had on a mask. Beth stopped to speak to her and later looked her up in the Guinness Book of Records. She has nearly 10,000 piercings, external and internal, in her body. 

At the Dr. Marten shoe store Jon and Beth each bought shoes; then looked for an extra duffle bag to get their purchases home. I was pretty tired when we got back to the apartment; the drizzly, misty weather may have added to the discomfort in my joints, but after some rest and a hot cup of tea I was soon feeling much better.

We are packing up again. We have enjoyed the apartment, We've made oatmeal for breakfast and fixed our supper from food we purchased in the food store just down the block. Beth flies back to Seattle tomorrow. Jon and I will drop Beth at the airport in the morning and then we will drive north to Inverness for a few days. Everyone who mentioned the weather today, meteorologist or salesperson, says we will have better weather tomorrow. That would be nice.

Switching Countries

A 5:30 wake-up alarm yesterday heralded a long day; hence no blog was done. We checked out of our hotel in Galway and drove to Shannon Airport for the flight to Scotland. On the way we stopped at Dromoland, a castle cum hotel, an Irish Heritage site that they have worked to keep authentic. This was on Beth’s scouting agenda for the trip and this hotel is sure to be a tour group pleaser.

The flight to Edinburgh was not long. After we collected our luggage, we got a taxi to take us to the apartment that Jon had reserved in the Knight Hotel. We expected a suite of rooms, but were surprised to find it was outfitted with a full kitchen including pots, pans, dishes and a washer-dryer. 

The first impression of Edinburgh is the Castle that rises majestically over the city. This site, like most all castles, was originally a fortified position. Archaeologists have found artifacts of people living atop this high hill as long ago as 900 BC. Today the Castle is a big draw for tourists the world over. Kings and queens have lived here and their children born here. 

The second impression is that all the building stone in Edinburgh is beige or brown whereas in Ireland all the stone was gray. The streets are wider here, some still cobblestoned. And where Dublin was relatively flat; there is nothing flat about Edinburgh. You are usually either walking up or walking down. Even Beth found the hills a challenge on her morning run today.

Yesterday we hunted down the Genealogy Society and learned they had nothing there that would be helpful to me since we already had names and dates going back to 1770. We were referred to the Archives at the People’s Center. We continued on, had lunch at a restaurant familiar to Jon and Beth, Wagamama, a Japanese vegetarian place. In a Scotch Whiskey store, we got a history narrative and personal consultation from a very knowledgable salesman. Jon enjoyed that visit and the tasting that accompanied it before he made his purchase selection. Then we found a grocery store, bought supplies and prepared supper at the apartment. We all went to bed earlier than usual.

This morning over breakfast we did a lot of conferring on what to do today. First order of business was to go to the Archives, not only for what records they might have, but also to get some clue of where to find the “land of the ancestors”, Ardclach Parish, village of Lynmore. We were warned ahead of time that we would have to register to enter the Archives. Jon and I both got reading passes with picture ID on them. It did take us almost as long to get the registration done as it did to look at the one Ardclach Parish minutes book that they had for the 1700s.

We were hoping to find something in the church minutes reporting that the Dowglas family had departed for America. But we found nothing that would shed any light on that or on the two Alexander Dowglases, one from Dunorn and the other from Branchor. It was amusing to read in the parish records about church members who had strayed from the straight and narrow and received punishment of one variety or another, as “they needed more strength in their repentance.”

We ate lunch at another vegetarian restaurant. Scotland has more vegetarian restaurants than Jon and Beth usually find when they travel, they tell me. In particular, I enjoy the wonderful soups that they have. They use leeks for flavor and I always like that flavoring.

We walked up to the Castle, stayed for the Changing of the Guard, but did not pay the hefty price to go inside. Instead we walked down the Royal Mile to St. Giles Cathedral, where John Knox once preached. Inside I was nearly overcome with the beauty of the windows and the arches and the wondrously tall organ pipes rising high to the vaulted ceiling. For me, this was today’s high point..

By then the light rain of the morning had turned in a misty drizzle, giving rise to the kind of view you see in photos of “misty Scotland”. So we headed back to the dry and warm apartment about mid afternoon, to nap, to blog, to drink hot tea. I am enjoying the wonderfully warm merino wool sweater Jon bought me in Galway. Perfect for the weather here. Scotland’s current temperature is considerably cooler that those we had in Ireland but it is supposed to warm up over the next few days. We, as well as the street vendors and the buskers and the bagpipers, will be happy for that.

Time Out!

Yesterday we got a late start as Jon had to have a tooth looked at. It had been aggravating him since Saturday and he was managing the problem with aspirin. He got in to see the dentist shortly after 10, got a Rx for antibiotic, and some strong antiseptic mouthwash; he will need a filling when he gets home but will not lose the tooth; he was relieved. 

We stopped for lunch in Adare where they had advertised two thatched-roof cottages. Unfortunately the cottages burned last year, but not the mention in the guide books, of course. We had lunch at the Blue Door and found the small post office, so I got my post cards sent off. They gave me both stamps and Priority Mail stickers. I am sure I will get home before the post cards are delivered, but as Jon said, that's the fun of it.

Dunratty Castle was fun too. Stone spiral staircases, embellished with metal railings on both side to facilitate movement and prevent falls. A great hall, maybe 50 feet with long tables. Jon measured one, a single plank, nearly 3 inches thick and 35 ft. long. Huge fireplaces, lots of huge antlers on the wall. Really old authentic-looking tapestries. A few bedchambers set up with massive furniture; a heavy large wooden chest with metal edging on all corners and edges. On the top level we stepped out onto what was probably the sentry watch. Narrow windows so high up that looking down almost gave me vertigo. A great view of the surrounding countryside, though; they could see whoever was coming miles off. 

I was impressed with the huge tapestries on the walls in this castle. They did not look like reproductions, but I could not fathom how they could have survived so many years. Probably they had been restored. Tours of the castle were stopped at 4 pm daily so they could prepare for the nightly Medieval Dinner. I am sure they served it in the Great Hall; the benches were cushioned there. Guides were dressed in period-style garb. This castle got a definite “yes” for Beth’s Ireland Tour. 

On the WWW coast again, we visited the Cliffs of Mohers, pronounced Moo-ers. Another photographers’ wonder: water and sky and great cliffs dropping 600 feet to where the ocean carves away at the base.

Lots of rolling countryside as we traveled north towards Galway, more farm land; only a few sheep but lots of dairy cows and beef cattle. At Connors Pass, a pull-off provided a great view. There was a path to climb even higher up the hill and we started up but the path was stony and uneven and very steep so I stopped and sent Jon and Beth the rest of the way to the top. I stood to one side of the path and did 360 degree rotations to see the view on all sides, great vast valleys ringed by rugged hills and the blue of the ocean in the distance. On the way back down, I was grateful for Jon’s strong hand holding me steady and helping me climb over large stones. His strong hand or arm has been ever available when the going gets tough.

We stayed last night in Galway at the Ardilaun Hotel. My stomach had not been happy since  yesterday and my energy level was much lower than usual this morning, so I opted for a rest day. Jon and Beth went out to traverse yet another peninsula. I slept, showered, washed my hair, relaxed with cups of tea, readily available using a hot-pot in my room and I am feeling much better. Jon emailed a short time ago that they were coming back into Galway; did I want to go shopping; Beth is doing some last minute shopping. Last chance in Ireland; we fly to Edinborough tomorrow. I emailed back: Yes, I’m up, refreshed and ready to go; so he will pick me up. 

Here’s another of Patrick’s kerryman jokes: The Kerry Councilman asks people which side of the river gets more traffic. When the answers come back, the north side, he said, “Good. Then that’s the side we’ll put the bridge on”. Love the Irish humor.

Stay Safe - Eat Cake

Yesterday we walked the main streets in Killarney. There were the usual clothing stores and souvenir places, barber shop, SPAR (the Irish equivalent of 7-Eleven) and one other place that caught my eye, not for the first time - “Paddy Power/ Bookmaker/ Bet Here.” 

Early this morning, while Beth was on her morning run, Jon and I walked to the nearby park and walked the trails there. We saw red deer, common in this area, fun to see in the distance, but as Patrick remarked, not a happy sight for the golf course groundskeepers. Many other walkers were in the park along with some trail riders from the Riding Stable just up the street from our B and B. Also in the park was a family who had rented a horse and carriage and the father was driving the horse, to the delight of his children. 

Today we drove the Dingle peninsula, the next one north of the Ring of Kerry. I had assumed it would be quite similar but there were differences. The mountains were more significant, lots of windy roads going up, up, up, with many places to stop and see the view. There were “U-shaped” valleys, sculpted out when glaciers had pushed their way through the existing water courses, leaving behind long, broad valleys. And those valleys are home to many, many sheep. Whereas yesterday we saw small groups of sheep, today we saw flocks of 20 to 60 in pasture after pasture, and the far hillside’s checkerboard of fields all sported numerous white dots. 

There were bicyclists on the roads we traveled but Patrick says there are many, many more in the summer. In the town of Dingle, we were looking for a place for lunch and saw a sign that said Pie. Jon and Beth had been teasing me because I wanted pie the day before but had no room for it at the end of the meal. “Here’s your chance to have pie.” It was a small restaurant on the upper floor over a Sea Glass jewelry store. There were about four tables outside on the deck and eight tables inside. It turned out the name of the restaurant was Pie. More good marketing, Beth reminds us. But they did have pie and it was a neat place to eat. We did move inside when it threatened to rain and they were happy to help us move. Then it didn’t rain anyway. We have had two nice days in a row now with very little rain, just a few sprinkles from a cloud passing overhead. 

When it was time for dessert, they had a selection of eight desserts in the case and Jon and I did each have pie. For a small restaurant, they were really good about adding that little extra touch to the plates they served, nice crisp lettuce on the dinner plates, a little clotted cream topped by a fresh berry with the pie. They had a great selection of teas and the teapots were all shaped like houses, heavy to handle but they kept the water hot. A sign on the wall at the Pie said “Skinny People Are Easy to Kidnap/ Stay Safe - Eat Cake”. I liked Dingle, a small harbor town, with many tall-masted sailboats moored there.

Beck at our B and B about 5:30, we all hit the bed for naps. I slept much longer than I intended, a couple hours, but we had done some climbing on our hikes today, so I guess my body earned it. Tonight we sat in a small sitting room upstairs at the B and B and ate our supper snack, then watched a TV segment on my computer. Tomorrow we leave Killarney. We will miss Patrick’s good humor.

The Wild And Windy West

Oh, by the way, we did have a wonderful “sit-down” dinner at an Italian restaurant in Kilkenny, and another in Blarney so perhaps the cafeteria style is more prevalent in the big city.

I was wrong in my last post about not doing as much driving. Today’s itinerary was to traverse the peninsula on the Wild Atlantic West coast called the Ring of Kerry. The circuit was 110 miles by the book. We must have gone further, for, in addition to the lovely landscapes of the peninsula, we got hooked by the “Ten Minute Walk to the Most Spectacular View in County Kerry.” Once parked, we discovered our ten minute walk was going to cost us 4 euros a piece! As Beth commented, it's all about the marketing.

The walk was more than ten minutes, most of it uphill, but the view of the cliffs where the Atlantic crashes into the island was magnificent. We went all the way to the topmost viewing station, with Jon and Beth linking their arms with mine to help me move forward and upward against a very stiff wind. The signs pointing the way to the coast just show wavy lines, like 3 Ws linked. I say it should be called the Wild Windy West. Once up there we had to admit that all the level concrete and fencing that had been done to provide a safe viewing station made the price appropriate. The cliffs were scoured out by the ocean and the drop to the water was a couple hundred feet. I was intrigued by the lovely wild flowers that clung to the sides of the hills, even some growing from what seemed could only be rock. It was the high point of today’s trip, though we saw many lovely valleys and many old stone houses with the roofs gone, but the stone walls and chimneys still standing. The Irish certainly know how to build with stone.

I had not seen a single wooden fence post until we were headed west today.. All the “fences” were rock walls, or dirt berms on top of which hedges grew. Looking out across the valleys, one saw land divided into 5, 10 and 15 acre fields, separated by what looked like walls or hedgerows only. Today, sometimes I saw fence posts inserted into rock walls and also into the shrubby berm. to add wire fencing. I thought these fences were added for the benefit of cattle, since the rock walls probably worked for sheep, but today, in some places, I realized the higher fences were for People!

I enjoyed watching the sheep with their lambs. I saw several herds of cows, Brown Swiss, Holsteins, Guernseys and a few mixed herds.  And today we saw black faced sheep for the first time. Lots of sheep, perfect for the rolling, rocky pasture land.

Coming back into Killarney, we saw the Jaunting Cars. They are two wheeling carts, drawn by ponies, the local version of the horse and carriages of NYC or Cincinnati.

Our B & B host is a friendly Irishman, Patrick. At breakfast, he brought Beth some extra yogurt because he had seen her returning from her run this morning and thought she should have the extra calories. I miss my morning oatmeal. I am surprised they do not serve it here. I have yet to have it in Ireland. We get cereal, dry oats or muesli combinations, toast, coffee and orange juice here at the B&B. Then we have a choice of eggs, various sausages, beans, fruit, yogurt, or cheese. Patrick does all the serving. We can hear his wife in the kitchen with at least one helper, but we have not met her. The B&B has another party of 4 guests, besides us, right now.

Patrick’s “kerryman” joke: (a kerryman is a local person) The kerryman says to his partner upon reading the obituaries in the newspaper, “I don’t understand why all the people die in alphabetical order.” Then Patrick gave us a whole book of kerryman jokes to read. Every Irishman has a joke or a story, it seems. 

The Blarney Stone - To Kiss or Not

After breakfast we did a quick walk around Kilkenny, We walked the Medieval Mile as it is named, culminating with a visit to St. Canice’s Close. Of the original monastery built there in the 6th century, only the bell tower remains. Originally it was meant to ring out the hours for the monks. Over the years, fighting between the Protestant and Catholic churches often targeted the monastery on the hill overlooking the river Nore. Cromwell even had a crack at it. The “Close” was a compound which surrounded the monastery and the homes of the canons and church officials. The earliest records show large gardens within its walls.

All that remains of the original monastery is the bell tower, but 800 years ago the ruins of the first monastery was cleared and a grand Gothic Church was built adjacent to the bell tower. Only small sections of the wall of the Close remain. The church yard has some large grave plots, probably of those who had the means to gain permission to be buried there. Jon and Beth decided to climb to the top of the bell tower. I declined and stayed on the ground reading the history of the place and waved to them when they reached the top, a good bit over 100 ft. tall, and built in 1111 A.D.

About noon we met Marianne who joined us for the trip to Killarney. Marianne had a good mapping device on her phone so she was able to help Beth navigate. They sat in back and I sat up front with Jon - in the left seat. It seemed so strange to be sitting there; I felt like I should have a steering wheel in my hands.  But the view out the front was a nice change from yesterday.

We stopped at several castles. Beth is “scoping out” venues for her upcoming Ireland tour. The first castle, the Rock of Cashel, was impressive in its height. There was not much to see inside; some old tools in glass cases, a large stone St. Patrick’s cross, various shields carved in a rock frieze and a room set up to show a typical medieval kitchen. But the immense size of the castle and the great interior arches were imposing. They are reconstructing parts of it and the plans show something like six floors from bottom to top, all in stone of course.

It had started raining about the time we left Kilkenny that morning and before long we were “socked in” as we traveled towards the Wild Atlantic West, as the west coast of Ireland is called. It rained most of the rest of the day, finally tapering off in late afternoon. So it was raining when we got to Blarney Castle, home of the Blarney Stone. World statesmen, and legends of the silver screen have joined other pilgrims who have journeyed to kiss the Blarney Stone, believed to bestow the gift of eloquence. 

It turns out that the Blarney Stone is at the very top of the Keep. With encouragement from my companions I thought I might try it, but after tackling only a few feet of the stone staircase, I declined. Kissing the Blarney Stone is not on my Bucket List. Instead I retreated and outside found a nice wooden walkway beside banks of flowers, small waterfalls, huge boulders, through ahaped arches of small trees, over bridges across streams, a very nice walk indeed and I finished my walk about the time the rest of my party returned triumphant from kissing the Blarney Stone. (Did you know one has to bend backwards over nothing but air in order to kiss the stone?)

We ate our main meal for the day in Blarney, then proceeded on, getting into Killarney with just enough daylight to drop Marianne off at her hostel and find our own B & B before dark. We told our host we were “in for the night”. It has been another long day. 

One of today’s impressions is of driving for miles through so many trees and shrubs on either roadside, it was almost like going through a green tunnel. The trees didn’t arch overhead like sometimes maples or oaks or elms would but they were so tall and willowy looking you got that tunnel or maze effect. One saw only green walls.

We will be staying here in Killarney for a couple days, so we will not be spending so much time driving and will have more time for exploring. Stay tuned.

To Kilkenny We Will Go

We left Dublin yesterday for Kilkenny. Jon drove the rented car, mastering the left-hand driving exceptionally well. Beth was navigator. So I got to enjoy the scenery. For the first hour we zigged and zagged our way out of Dublin into the outskirts and then finally into the countryside. I enjoyed seeing the first private homes along the route, light or pastel in color, with neatly clipped hedges, small immaculate lawns and steeply sloped roofs.

We stopped at Powerscourt Gardens and took the walk through the park-like grounds scattered with statues, an old stone tower with cannon, a Japanese style pagoda set near a little creek and many rhododendron bushes in various bright colors. I remarked several times that at every turn there was a new delightful vista of lawn and flowers. The stone reception building had the look of an old manor house though I do not know its history; it had a restaurant and several shops. We bought a few snacks and continued on our way. We had a long drive.

I was not aware of our assent until the wayside flowers disappeared and we were crossing Wicklow Mountain. It was definitely NOT green there! The landscape was all browns and grays, with low growing scrubby bushes and clumps of long gray grasses, subsisting on thin rocky soil. There was no habitation for miles, except one pick-up truck parked on the side of the road and, barely visible, about a quarter mile away, a small shack or lean-to. Suddenly, we were surprised to meet a huge tour bus: Jon pulled over and stopped the car, so the bus could get by on the narrow, barely two-lane, road.

When the twisty, sometimes bumpy, road began to descend, the ubiquitous wild shrub that grows along the roadsides, hedgerows and hillsides reappeared, covered with masses of flowers the color of goldenrod. As we came to the valley floor, we saw sheep, not much past lambing time, with lots of little ones lying near their mothers. Now the landscape was green again, all shades of green.

At the Gardens we had sunshine but one thing was certain, the sky was always changing. It did not rain, however, until our next stop at Glendalough. Jon needed a rest after all the difficult mountain driving so Beth and I visited the local craft shop to let him take a short nap in the car. We brought back coffee and continued on. The rain was short, went from sprinkles, to drizzle to short downpour and subsided.

Now we saw dairy cows in pastures, small farms, rural homes, and all those green colors, so many that when I spied a bright yellow field, I speculated on what it must be. We decided it must be mustard though we have not checked that out with the local people yet. Not far from Kilkenny we turned onto a major highway so driving was much easier for Jon.

In Kilkenny Jon and Beth were surprised by a friend who was also traveling in Ireland, having been working here on an organic farm, and Marianne will join us as we continue to Killarnny next.

She's in Ireland!

I have "dusted off" my old blog again. I am traveling and it is not always easy to get internet access. When I do have access to the internet, the blog allows me to report on my activities so more friends can keep up with me. My son, Jonathan, helped me iron out the snags in order to breathe new life into this old blog. 

Currently I am in Dublin, Ireland, with Jon and Beth. We've been here three days. The bus ride from the airport did not take long. After checking into the hotel, we did the Hop On- Hop Off bus tour, but mostly we walk. Tonight, in deference to my tired knee, we took a taxi to a very nice vegetarian restaurant for Jon's birthday dinner. The taxi driver inquired if we were Irish, admitted he certainly was and went on to entertain us with his remarks, especially commiserating with us about "Trumpie" and what kind of president he would make. He dropped us off at the restaurant, chuckling at his wit.

So far, most restaurants are a kind of cafeteria style. For lunch today, we stopped in at a department store and after shopping, we decided to have lunch in their restaurant on the second floor. With my tray in hand I watched the ladies ahead of me, then the wait-person behind the salad bar said "how many salads do you want?" Well, I had in mind only one but there were about eight large bowls of various salads in front of me and, having watched the women before me select servings from several, I said three. Then I had to choose the ones I wanted. I figured out that the number of salad servings one wanted determined the size and shape of the plate the salads were served on, for the benefit of the cashier.

Tonight's restaurant was similar, though this one, Cornucopia, had better signage, so it was easier to make our selections.  It was one of the best meals we've had here so far. Jon and Beth are dedicated vegetarians and that is no problem for me. I love all vegetables. I had a "mash pie" which was mashed potatoes with fennel and mushrooms and nicely flavored and browned from the oven, and two "salads" this time, one was greens with a garlic and oil dressing, the other was a beet salad, also very tasty, flavored well. We had left-overs to bring home. We wandered our way back to the hotel through the pub district near the college and stopped in to listen to some music and have a drink, watching a good soccer game on TV, getting back to the hotel about 8:30 and it was still light out.

The weather has been cool but it has only rained a little, just this morning. The sun comes out from the clouds for at least part of the day which is nice.

Tomorrow we will get a rented car and travel out of the big city. It will be nice to see the countryside.