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.

New Glasses At Last!

Aaah! New glasses! And just in time.

One of the lenses in the old glasses I was using, from putting them on and off all the time, was loose. At first I could not even see (with another old pair of tri-focals) whether the screw was still there or was gone. But the next morning in daylight, with magnifying glass and under a strong desk lamp, I found the screw head and with my tiny eyeglass-repair screwdriver was able to tighten the frame.

I have new insight into how frustrating and debilitating not being able to see well can be. Finally I can put on my glasses in the morning and not have to even think about them until I go to bed. And I can see fine. It took a little adjustment to the new lenses but I have adapted quickly.

Another good piece of news. Since I had paid for a lens protection program when I got my new bi-focal semi-tinted sunglasses, they changed the prescription in them for FREE. How nice is that!

I had promised my Aunt Jean I would come visit her and that visit got delayed much longer than I intended, due to cataract surgery. So I determined I would visit her in Virginia Beach for Thanksgiving. It’s quite a trip out there so I started thinking of other visits I could make since I was going that way.

It didn’t take long to realize I would be going through Richmond, VA, where they have a terrific library with lots of archival material, so that visit has been added into the mix. I will stop on the way going, as the library will be closed from noon the day before Thanksgiving through the rest of the weekend.

This really bitter cold weather is making excursions outside exceedingly uncomfortable. Even with my nice warm winter coat and scarf, my errands yesterday were no fun and by the time I came home my back was aching, just from the tension produced by the cold and wind when I was walking between car and buildings. The first thing I did when I got home was sit down and relax with a heating pad on my back. Within a few minutes, all the back ache was gone.

The Muro 128 2% finally came into the pharmacy so I have added that to my medicine cabinet, but I have only used the eye drops once. The warm compresses the doctor suggested work just as well, if not better.

It’s a good day to stay inside, though the sun makes it look so pretty out. I am just hoping this artic blast runs itself out before I take off for Aunt Jean's.

Enjoy your Thanksgiving. I, myself, have much to be thankful for.

Be seeing you... with my nice new lenses.

Not So Simple Pleasures

I was thinking on one of my drives to Cleveland, as I enjoyed the beautiful scenery, how fortunate we are to have eyesight. I know that vision evolved to make us aware of our surroundings, along with hearing and smell and all of our senses. But how miraculous is vision! I was counting the attributes of vision as I drove along. What is it that makes the scenery so wonderful? There is color, of course, but there is shape and line and depth and contrast and variety. I noticed how scenes with variety pleasured me to a greater degree than those with less variety. And of course, light and shadow.

Then I thought, what is the source of pleasure? Where in our body-mind does pleasure originate? For me, pleasure is a distinct feeling inside, in the middle of my chest, a warmth there that quickly diffuses my whole body. How is it that a sight can be transformed into a feeling? How does that happen?

It happens with our other senses too. I’ve been wafted away into the air listening to a concert. I can’t pass the vase of roses without taking a whiff, and that induces that same feeling. I remember the pleasure of the warm blanket tucked around me just before my surgery. Along with the pleasure comes a sense of well being. Or is the sense of well being synonymous with pleasure? (Webster says no, not quite.)

I tend to explain my feelings as coming from my thoughts. But the only thoughts I can decipher at the time of such pleasures are “Isn’t that beautiful!” or “That is so wonderful”. I don’t think this experience of pleasure is something I learned or copied from my elders; I think it is innate. I may never understand how it works; I am just so grateful that it is part of my experience, in this body, on this earth.

My rose bush is still putting out buds in spite of the cold nights. I hear the ducks and geese overhead. I bundle in layers to go walking. All the signs of impending cold weather are upon us. Yet even the crisp air brings pleasure.

The leaves are raked and piled at curbside, a pile about 3 ft. deep and 20 ft. long. I hope the city comes soon to scoop them up, so they don’t blow all over someone else’s lawn. And thereby reduce their pleasure, perhaps.

I’ve ordered my new glasses. They had to be sent away to have the anti-glare coating put on them. It will likely be another ten days before I have them. I am hoping I might be able to drive more easily at night with new glasses.

Be seeing you...

Day of the Dead

Cold the last couple days, but not as cold as Saturday when Amy and I were out. We attended a latino Festival Dia de Muertos (Day of the Dead) in one of the western communities of Cleveland.

It was 40 degrees out and there was a strong northwest wind. We dressed warmly but we could only stay out in the wind for a short time before the need to seek cover became a burgeoning priority. Luckily there was a parish hall and a old church that provided a place to get inside. We found a series of “altars” sponsored by the Cleveland Arts Council in one hall and vendors and a venue for performances that would take place after the parade in the other.

When we ventured back outside, the parade was forming up. We enjoyed watching the many people with costumes and/or great face painting. Probably about 65 people marched in the parade. It was so windy that when the stilt-walkers came to intersections, they had to cross them sideways in order to stay upright until they once again got some shelter from the buildings along the streets. But they all looked like they were having a wonderful time.

I had never been to a Day of the Dead festival before. Amy explained the significance of some items in the altars we saw. We did not stay for the performances, but we did look at the “cemetery” where people had erected "tombstones" or memorials to honor loved ones. And at the gates of the cemetery were Dia de Muertos notes available for people to write to, or about, their loved ones and tie onto the gate. This was a popular site.

We saw snow flurries on the way home, just a few. As a child, we would say it was “spitting snow”, letting us know winter is coming - as if the bitter cold wind was not enough.

Three days ago I saw Dr. Lass for a final checkup on my left eye. He said that most of the swelling was gone; the pressure in both eyes was okay. Regarding the irritation in the right eye, I was told that there were oil ducts in the edge of the upper eyelid and it was not uncommon for the ducts to get clogged; the one in my right eye was clogged. They recommended warm compresses and gentle rubbing of the lid ONLY, not the eye. In addition Dr. Lass said not to use the "dry-eye" drops for irritation but instead to use Muro128, a solution with a little salt in it to help draw fluid through the cornea.

At the pharmacy to get the drops, we found there were two strengths of the Muro drops so we had to call back to the doctor’s office to determine which to buy. The pharmacy did not have the 2% that we needed, so I will wait until I get home and try again or have them order it for me. Using the warm compresses has relieved the irritation completely today.

I will be heading back to Covington in a few days. I will be back to Cleveland for Christmas - and that’s not that far away!  I feel like I have been in some kind of time warp and lost a few months. How can it possibly be November already?

Be seeing you....