Obviously, we never got the internet in workable enough condition to finish posting photos or update you all on our last few days from Dublin. However, now that we've landed safe and sound in NYC, I can at least report that much.
This last day in the city was madness. Not only was the queen in town (yeah, that one) but there were some 25,000 Portuguese soccer fans in the city for the Europa Cup final at Croke Park tonight. Our ten minute cab ride took over thirty and meant we didn't get to the airport until our gate was closing. It felt frantic at the time, but things turned out just fine. However, the hubbub about the big soccer game had me gravitating towards the sports bar near our gate here in JFK. While everyone else was literally hooting and hollering over some NBA game I could care less about, I immediately gravitated towards the screens showing soccer. I knew the game would be over but was looking for highlights anyway. They were instead showing some American game, so I got the iPad out to check things out one we got seats at the gate. Porto beat Braga 1-0 in case anyone's interested.
Ok. Well I've got tons more i want to tell you all about. We got take-away. We hailed cabs. I participated in a (sort of) formal whiskey tasting. I bought whiskey! Feel shocked on my behalf, won't you? Because, before today, my only experience with whiskey was trying to cook with the stuff and eat it in ice cream in Dingle. I'm taking big steps here, people. We had a lot of fun and we already want to plan our next trip back. (I'll get a trip to Italy in there somewhere!) But now it's time to pack up and get ready to board our only slightly delayed flight to Pittsburgh. More stories, observations, and photos to come to wrap up the trip. See you all again soon!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Mmm, sheep, yummy yummy sheep
Not much to report on from the rest of the day. It was nice to not be on the move as soon as we had finished our breakfast. (Not that I'm complaining. Us moving from place to place to place was our own decision and I'm glad we did. We wouldn't have been able to see as much of the country as we did had we stayed in one place for more than a night at a time.)
Anyway, we didn't do too much exploring today in Galway. We slept in, I updated this little blog here, then we went into town to do some shopping for you lovely folks back home. So I can't really tell you much about today without spoiling it, now can I? I think there were some old homes and touristy things to do in town, but we left the GPS behind, so we got lazy and decided to make it an easy day and stick to shopping in the pedestrian area. We did hit up Sheridan's Cheesemongers, as it was recommended in the guidebook and also because, well, why wouldn't you want to visit a place known as a cheesemonger, really? I also pestered Ben into us grabbing fish and chips for lunch. He stuck to chicken, but I got fresh locally caught whiting, which was quite yummy. Only downside? Ketchup is just Not the same here. We both noticed it when we picked up sandwiches & chips for lunch yesterday. I've never been altogether picky about my ketchup. I'll take Great Value brand without complaint and everything. But this ketchup is just.. off. I mean, it's ketchup-y and all, but it's just not the same. Today's was too bland, yesterday's was too vinegary. I'll just have to get me some Heinz with whatever I eat once we're home again.
After a bit more time in town, it was back to the hotel for dinner. A bit of an overpriced dinner (sorry, Dad), but Connemara lamb is quite yummy. We both decided that after driving past literally hundreds of the fluffy little guys along the drive, it was only fitting that we eat them at least once. Ok. So that sounds considerably more perverse than I intended. What I mean is, clearly they are an integral part of the local Irish economy, as witnessed by our travels across several counties, thus it was in our best interest as responsible tourists to support the local economy through the purchase of at least one meal of lamb. There. That sounds better.
Now it's time to get caught up on all those backlogged photos. Hopefully at least one album will be up tonight and possibly (fingers crossed) another in the morning before we head out. Not sure yet if we're heading straight back to Dublin or, and this is the fun part, taking a detour into North Ireland to visit County Armagh, the last known home of Trodden family baptism records. The Armagh County website isn't the most helpful thing in the world, but we've got some records from Papa and Uncle Buddy that should make for a good start. Wish us luck!
Anyway, we didn't do too much exploring today in Galway. We slept in, I updated this little blog here, then we went into town to do some shopping for you lovely folks back home. So I can't really tell you much about today without spoiling it, now can I? I think there were some old homes and touristy things to do in town, but we left the GPS behind, so we got lazy and decided to make it an easy day and stick to shopping in the pedestrian area. We did hit up Sheridan's Cheesemongers, as it was recommended in the guidebook and also because, well, why wouldn't you want to visit a place known as a cheesemonger, really? I also pestered Ben into us grabbing fish and chips for lunch. He stuck to chicken, but I got fresh locally caught whiting, which was quite yummy. Only downside? Ketchup is just Not the same here. We both noticed it when we picked up sandwiches & chips for lunch yesterday. I've never been altogether picky about my ketchup. I'll take Great Value brand without complaint and everything. But this ketchup is just.. off. I mean, it's ketchup-y and all, but it's just not the same. Today's was too bland, yesterday's was too vinegary. I'll just have to get me some Heinz with whatever I eat once we're home again.
After a bit more time in town, it was back to the hotel for dinner. A bit of an overpriced dinner (sorry, Dad), but Connemara lamb is quite yummy. We both decided that after driving past literally hundreds of the fluffy little guys along the drive, it was only fitting that we eat them at least once. Ok. So that sounds considerably more perverse than I intended. What I mean is, clearly they are an integral part of the local Irish economy, as witnessed by our travels across several counties, thus it was in our best interest as responsible tourists to support the local economy through the purchase of at least one meal of lamb. There. That sounds better.
Now it's time to get caught up on all those backlogged photos. Hopefully at least one album will be up tonight and possibly (fingers crossed) another in the morning before we head out. Not sure yet if we're heading straight back to Dublin or, and this is the fun part, taking a detour into North Ireland to visit County Armagh, the last known home of Trodden family baptism records. The Armagh County website isn't the most helpful thing in the world, but we've got some records from Papa and Uncle Buddy that should make for a good start. Wish us luck!
I hope you've got time on your hands..
Good morning, all! Time for another rambling post from me as we had another busy day yesterday.
Thanks to advice from Bridie at Beach Cove, we had a little bit of a plan for yesterday's travels. We'd start out on the Connor Pass road, the highest pass in Ireland, as we continued north along the coast towards Galway, with a stop off at the Cliffs of Moher. We knew we had a long day of driving ahead of us, so we never made it back into Dingle. Not that we had anything in particular left to do or see, but somehow I had missed taking pictures of town the previous night. So, though I have an excessive amount of pictures of other places, I will be lacking in pictures of Dingle. Which is a shame, because, though bustling and a bit touristy, it really was a quaint and colorful town.
Anyway, before we could leave Dingle, we obviously had to have breakfast. Now, I don't think I've really talked about our breakfasts much so far. This breakfast, though, is worth talking about. Just about everywhere we went, we had tea, some kind of cereal or fresh fruit, full Irish breakfast (maybe smoked salmon instead), and that was it. You can get a full Irish breakfast everywhere, consisting of sausage, soft fried egg, toast, tomato, and bacon. Mind you, the bacon is so much better than home as it actually comes from the back of the pig (where the word bacon comes from), rather than the belly of the pig, where we cheap Americans get it. Other than that though, breakfast hasn't been too different from place to place. I've been hesitant to order pancakes, because that felt like something I could easily get at home. Well, I was wrong. I ordered pancakes yesterday morning, enticed by the fact that they were served with local honey. Honey instead of maple syrup? Count me in! Not only are these pancakes served with warm honey oozing out of the middle, but these are not like the pancakes I get at home - no Bisquick or super thick stacks of cakey pancakes here. Oh, no. I should have gotten the hint from the pancakes we ordered at Cake Cafe. Those were thin and light and almost crepe-y. They were served folded into quarters, with a little extra flavor tucked into those folds. Folded pancakes? Try folding a Bisquick pancake and you tell me what happens. Certainly not the delicate pile of deliciousness I saw on my plate yesterday morning. At Cake Cafe, they snuck a little bit of cinnamon sugar in between the layers. At Duinin House in Dingle, that's where they stashed the local honey. I stuck my fork into the top layer of the stack and honey started oozing out around the tines. I'm not sure how that sounds to you, but for me, it was perfection.
With that kind of main dish for breakfast, you'd think I'd be happy. Oh, I was happy. But what could make that wonderful of a breakfast happier still? Baileys. Yep, Baileys. Because before you get your main course, there's a cereal course. And this place was famous for their porridge. They don't just serve you porridge with cream - they serve you porridge with Bailey's Irish cream. Yeah. That happened. Think about it. Be jealous. I have no idea how to make porridge. I'm guessing it's similar to oatmeal. Regardless, I will probably try replicating this at home. And if it doesn't turn out? Well then I won't mind being my own guinea pig. (If you were interested in a commentary on Ben's breakfast, well, I apologize. He also got the Bailey's porridge, but I was so wrapped up in the yumminess of my own main breakfast dish that I completely forgot what he ordered. Oops.)
So after that thoroughly amazing breakfast, we packed up like the nomads we are and headed for the hills. Well, headed for the mountains would be more apt. It was still fairly early in the morning when we started in on the Connor Pass, so the skies were dreary and the clouds were hanging amongst the peaks of the mountains. This would be a problem. The whole point of driving through the Connor Pass is to get the mountaintop views of the valleys and bays and sea below you. I won't even bother calling it fog. Instead, we were driving in the clouds. When we pulled off the road at the main lookout point, we could see maybe ten feet in any direction. With the drive we had ahead of us that day, I thought we'd have to give up on these views. Instead, we hunkered down in the car, fiddled with the iPad and waited a while for the clouds to pass. I must have been really enthralled by one of my hidden item games, because I didn't look up until a small tour van pulled up beside us. When I did look out the front window, there was suddenly a view in front of me. And even with clouds lingering around the edges, it was still a pretty phenomenal view. The mountain sloped down to empty fields below us, two massive peaks directly to either side, then flowing down into more pasture, a few houses, and then out to the bay and sea further beyond. The scope of the view was incredible. I was glad I got out of the car because it meant I got to eavesdrop on the tour guide while I took my own photos. Because below us we could see dozens of rock formations, like the remains of ancient homes or town walls. There was no pasture here, no houses nearby, just old stone remnants of something. According to the guide, we were looking down on the ruins of a monastic settlement. The huts we could see were where they used to keep bees. This was apparently a very common sight and we would be seeing many more of these stone ruins as we headed north through the Connor Pass and even further north in the Burren.
And there was exciting news on this particular scenic route. As we pulled out of the parking lot for the overlook, we passed a large, menacing looking yellow sign saying, literally, Turn Back, Do not Enter. Thankfully, we were not breaking the law or driving to certain doom by driving past this sign, for the sign was directed at oversize vehicles, tractor trailers, tour buses, that sort of thing. No trucks to get stuck behind? No coaches to move out of the way for? Awesome! And it was a good thing, too, because not long after that sign we came upon an intense set of switchbacks - one lane wide switchbacks, to be precise. It was harrowing and exciting and beautiful and I was reminded that there was no way I'd be able to do anything productive on the computer that day because this countryside, even when it was covered in clouds, was still too beautiful to blatantly ignore.
We continued to drive north through unendingly beautiful countryside, until we ran out of land. A part of our journey included a car ferry to cross into County Clare. I'd only been on a car ferry once before in Texas and Ben hadn't ever, so it was a neat experience. The ferry was called the Shannon Breeze - good joke. More like Shannon Windstorm. Holy hell! The trip only took about 20 minutes, but I didn't want to be out of the car longer than it took to find the snack counter and take some pictures on the upper deck. It was cold and windy and I think I still had flip flops on at that point in the day. Not a good combination. We made it without any slips or spills on my part and kept on towards the Cliffs.
If you're unfamiliar with the Cliffs of Moher, picture the surf battered cliffs Harry & Dumbledore approach towards the end of Half-Blood Prince. That's them. They're massive in scale. Lush grassy peaks that end abruptly at sheer cliff faces that just go down and down and down to the churning water below. They make a sort of U shape, so you can walk along paths on either side to get pictures of both sets of cliffs. At the one end is a big imposing sign telling you to "Keep Out. Private Property" in four or five languages. A big sign that has a handy dandy foot path going right around it and out along the edge of the cliffs. We took a picture of the sign. And then promptly followed the group of people hopping the fence and walked farther out along the cliffs. Easily the most reckless thing I've done on this trip - probably in my life. Mom, don't freak out. We didn't go out too far. Just enough (big surprise) for me to get a better picture of the other side of the cliffs. Ben walked out a little farther, since he is clearly much more brave and crazy than me, to take a few more shots. We both survived the walk back and hopped the fence to safety. As usual, we took dozens of pictures because, like the rest of Ireland, words cannot do the place justice. I think I kind of gave up on trying to describe it. I know I'm behind on pictures by a couple days, but hopefully I'll get a bit more accomplished tonight so you can see what I mean.
From the cliffs, we drove on and on. I caught a little cat nap. We drove along the edge of the Burren. I don't think we caught too many pictures of this area as we weren't really taking the primary scenic route with lookout points of its own. The Burren is filled with stone ruins even older than the monastic ones we spotted earlier. The area has been inhabited for - get this - 6,000 years. First by hunter-gatherers who later went on to farm the land. This eventually eroded away the soil, leaving behind bare limestone and thousands of dolmens and other ancient funerary sites. We probably could have taken the scenic route, but we were already going to get to Galway after 7, so we decided to bypass it and settle for what we could see from the car windows.
In Galway, we checked into the Glenlo Abbey hotel. My, oh my, is this place gorgeous. I don't know what kind of magic Dan Dooley Travel has up its sleeve, but the room we have is usually over 300 euro a night in the off-season (which is now). The place is an extension on an old, you guessed it, abbey, but even though the place is modern, it's rather classically decorated. I became a sucker for the place when we passed the guest lounge - a library that looks like I might step back in time 2 or 3 hundred years if I cross the threshold. Oh, and there are fresh lilies all over the place. I could smell them before I could see them. I have big, big love for lilies, so this won me over. Almost more than the pretty grey marble bathroom in our room. After staying in B&B's with the tiniest showers known to man for four days, a full sized bathroom and bathtub is a big deal.
After marveling over the room a bit more, we hopped in the car and drove the few minutes into town. What was supposed to be a 7 minute drive turned into about 27 minutes, since Dan Dooley does not work magic on GPS units. It tried to send us down one way streets, streets that were pedestrianized, all kinds of fun things. The restaurants we had in mind had closed early since it was a Sunday, and the bars that had been recommended for good local music were too crowded to want to bother. Instead, we wandered through the pedestrianized part of town until we found an itty bitty restaurant still serving food at nearly 9pm. It was cramped and probably not the best food in the world according to the guidebooks, but it was homey and filling and cheap and open, so we still enjoyed it. Fun fact: Ben voluntarily ordered seafood as his appetizer. I was so proud.
Today was the first morning we got to sleep in, since we didn't have to check out and get on the move to the next town. That was definitely a plus. Breakfast was yummy. Smoked salmon omelet = good idea, Danielle. I think Ben ordered the pancakes. Again, they were these light, foldable things that barely needed any toppings, they were that good. We really need to figure out the magically foldable Irish pancake recipe before we come home, I think.
Now we have a leisurely day ahead of us. We'll head back to the pedestrian area to check out the local shops. Last night we stumbled upon Thomas Dillon's Jewelers, the originator of the claddagh ring. I've been trying not to buy things for myself so far on the trip because I knew I really wanted to get a ring there. Hopefully things aren't too expensive. We shall see. I think we'll also probably be taking a walk along the seawall out to Salthill. I'll remember to take pictures this time, not like in cute little Dingle. Although, just fyi, from what we saw of Galway last night, Dingle is much cuter. As in, I didn't see any drunk guys peeing against buildings in Dingle. Yep, that happened last night. People walked by like nothing was out of the ordinary. Weird. I'm acting under the assumption that we won't see that in the middle of the day today. Fingers crossed.
Off we go! Be back with pictures later tonight.
Thanks to advice from Bridie at Beach Cove, we had a little bit of a plan for yesterday's travels. We'd start out on the Connor Pass road, the highest pass in Ireland, as we continued north along the coast towards Galway, with a stop off at the Cliffs of Moher. We knew we had a long day of driving ahead of us, so we never made it back into Dingle. Not that we had anything in particular left to do or see, but somehow I had missed taking pictures of town the previous night. So, though I have an excessive amount of pictures of other places, I will be lacking in pictures of Dingle. Which is a shame, because, though bustling and a bit touristy, it really was a quaint and colorful town.
Anyway, before we could leave Dingle, we obviously had to have breakfast. Now, I don't think I've really talked about our breakfasts much so far. This breakfast, though, is worth talking about. Just about everywhere we went, we had tea, some kind of cereal or fresh fruit, full Irish breakfast (maybe smoked salmon instead), and that was it. You can get a full Irish breakfast everywhere, consisting of sausage, soft fried egg, toast, tomato, and bacon. Mind you, the bacon is so much better than home as it actually comes from the back of the pig (where the word bacon comes from), rather than the belly of the pig, where we cheap Americans get it. Other than that though, breakfast hasn't been too different from place to place. I've been hesitant to order pancakes, because that felt like something I could easily get at home. Well, I was wrong. I ordered pancakes yesterday morning, enticed by the fact that they were served with local honey. Honey instead of maple syrup? Count me in! Not only are these pancakes served with warm honey oozing out of the middle, but these are not like the pancakes I get at home - no Bisquick or super thick stacks of cakey pancakes here. Oh, no. I should have gotten the hint from the pancakes we ordered at Cake Cafe. Those were thin and light and almost crepe-y. They were served folded into quarters, with a little extra flavor tucked into those folds. Folded pancakes? Try folding a Bisquick pancake and you tell me what happens. Certainly not the delicate pile of deliciousness I saw on my plate yesterday morning. At Cake Cafe, they snuck a little bit of cinnamon sugar in between the layers. At Duinin House in Dingle, that's where they stashed the local honey. I stuck my fork into the top layer of the stack and honey started oozing out around the tines. I'm not sure how that sounds to you, but for me, it was perfection.
With that kind of main dish for breakfast, you'd think I'd be happy. Oh, I was happy. But what could make that wonderful of a breakfast happier still? Baileys. Yep, Baileys. Because before you get your main course, there's a cereal course. And this place was famous for their porridge. They don't just serve you porridge with cream - they serve you porridge with Bailey's Irish cream. Yeah. That happened. Think about it. Be jealous. I have no idea how to make porridge. I'm guessing it's similar to oatmeal. Regardless, I will probably try replicating this at home. And if it doesn't turn out? Well then I won't mind being my own guinea pig. (If you were interested in a commentary on Ben's breakfast, well, I apologize. He also got the Bailey's porridge, but I was so wrapped up in the yumminess of my own main breakfast dish that I completely forgot what he ordered. Oops.)
So after that thoroughly amazing breakfast, we packed up like the nomads we are and headed for the hills. Well, headed for the mountains would be more apt. It was still fairly early in the morning when we started in on the Connor Pass, so the skies were dreary and the clouds were hanging amongst the peaks of the mountains. This would be a problem. The whole point of driving through the Connor Pass is to get the mountaintop views of the valleys and bays and sea below you. I won't even bother calling it fog. Instead, we were driving in the clouds. When we pulled off the road at the main lookout point, we could see maybe ten feet in any direction. With the drive we had ahead of us that day, I thought we'd have to give up on these views. Instead, we hunkered down in the car, fiddled with the iPad and waited a while for the clouds to pass. I must have been really enthralled by one of my hidden item games, because I didn't look up until a small tour van pulled up beside us. When I did look out the front window, there was suddenly a view in front of me. And even with clouds lingering around the edges, it was still a pretty phenomenal view. The mountain sloped down to empty fields below us, two massive peaks directly to either side, then flowing down into more pasture, a few houses, and then out to the bay and sea further beyond. The scope of the view was incredible. I was glad I got out of the car because it meant I got to eavesdrop on the tour guide while I took my own photos. Because below us we could see dozens of rock formations, like the remains of ancient homes or town walls. There was no pasture here, no houses nearby, just old stone remnants of something. According to the guide, we were looking down on the ruins of a monastic settlement. The huts we could see were where they used to keep bees. This was apparently a very common sight and we would be seeing many more of these stone ruins as we headed north through the Connor Pass and even further north in the Burren.
And there was exciting news on this particular scenic route. As we pulled out of the parking lot for the overlook, we passed a large, menacing looking yellow sign saying, literally, Turn Back, Do not Enter. Thankfully, we were not breaking the law or driving to certain doom by driving past this sign, for the sign was directed at oversize vehicles, tractor trailers, tour buses, that sort of thing. No trucks to get stuck behind? No coaches to move out of the way for? Awesome! And it was a good thing, too, because not long after that sign we came upon an intense set of switchbacks - one lane wide switchbacks, to be precise. It was harrowing and exciting and beautiful and I was reminded that there was no way I'd be able to do anything productive on the computer that day because this countryside, even when it was covered in clouds, was still too beautiful to blatantly ignore.
We continued to drive north through unendingly beautiful countryside, until we ran out of land. A part of our journey included a car ferry to cross into County Clare. I'd only been on a car ferry once before in Texas and Ben hadn't ever, so it was a neat experience. The ferry was called the Shannon Breeze - good joke. More like Shannon Windstorm. Holy hell! The trip only took about 20 minutes, but I didn't want to be out of the car longer than it took to find the snack counter and take some pictures on the upper deck. It was cold and windy and I think I still had flip flops on at that point in the day. Not a good combination. We made it without any slips or spills on my part and kept on towards the Cliffs.
If you're unfamiliar with the Cliffs of Moher, picture the surf battered cliffs Harry & Dumbledore approach towards the end of Half-Blood Prince. That's them. They're massive in scale. Lush grassy peaks that end abruptly at sheer cliff faces that just go down and down and down to the churning water below. They make a sort of U shape, so you can walk along paths on either side to get pictures of both sets of cliffs. At the one end is a big imposing sign telling you to "Keep Out. Private Property" in four or five languages. A big sign that has a handy dandy foot path going right around it and out along the edge of the cliffs. We took a picture of the sign. And then promptly followed the group of people hopping the fence and walked farther out along the cliffs. Easily the most reckless thing I've done on this trip - probably in my life. Mom, don't freak out. We didn't go out too far. Just enough (big surprise) for me to get a better picture of the other side of the cliffs. Ben walked out a little farther, since he is clearly much more brave and crazy than me, to take a few more shots. We both survived the walk back and hopped the fence to safety. As usual, we took dozens of pictures because, like the rest of Ireland, words cannot do the place justice. I think I kind of gave up on trying to describe it. I know I'm behind on pictures by a couple days, but hopefully I'll get a bit more accomplished tonight so you can see what I mean.
From the cliffs, we drove on and on. I caught a little cat nap. We drove along the edge of the Burren. I don't think we caught too many pictures of this area as we weren't really taking the primary scenic route with lookout points of its own. The Burren is filled with stone ruins even older than the monastic ones we spotted earlier. The area has been inhabited for - get this - 6,000 years. First by hunter-gatherers who later went on to farm the land. This eventually eroded away the soil, leaving behind bare limestone and thousands of dolmens and other ancient funerary sites. We probably could have taken the scenic route, but we were already going to get to Galway after 7, so we decided to bypass it and settle for what we could see from the car windows.
In Galway, we checked into the Glenlo Abbey hotel. My, oh my, is this place gorgeous. I don't know what kind of magic Dan Dooley Travel has up its sleeve, but the room we have is usually over 300 euro a night in the off-season (which is now). The place is an extension on an old, you guessed it, abbey, but even though the place is modern, it's rather classically decorated. I became a sucker for the place when we passed the guest lounge - a library that looks like I might step back in time 2 or 3 hundred years if I cross the threshold. Oh, and there are fresh lilies all over the place. I could smell them before I could see them. I have big, big love for lilies, so this won me over. Almost more than the pretty grey marble bathroom in our room. After staying in B&B's with the tiniest showers known to man for four days, a full sized bathroom and bathtub is a big deal.
After marveling over the room a bit more, we hopped in the car and drove the few minutes into town. What was supposed to be a 7 minute drive turned into about 27 minutes, since Dan Dooley does not work magic on GPS units. It tried to send us down one way streets, streets that were pedestrianized, all kinds of fun things. The restaurants we had in mind had closed early since it was a Sunday, and the bars that had been recommended for good local music were too crowded to want to bother. Instead, we wandered through the pedestrianized part of town until we found an itty bitty restaurant still serving food at nearly 9pm. It was cramped and probably not the best food in the world according to the guidebooks, but it was homey and filling and cheap and open, so we still enjoyed it. Fun fact: Ben voluntarily ordered seafood as his appetizer. I was so proud.
Today was the first morning we got to sleep in, since we didn't have to check out and get on the move to the next town. That was definitely a plus. Breakfast was yummy. Smoked salmon omelet = good idea, Danielle. I think Ben ordered the pancakes. Again, they were these light, foldable things that barely needed any toppings, they were that good. We really need to figure out the magically foldable Irish pancake recipe before we come home, I think.
Now we have a leisurely day ahead of us. We'll head back to the pedestrian area to check out the local shops. Last night we stumbled upon Thomas Dillon's Jewelers, the originator of the claddagh ring. I've been trying not to buy things for myself so far on the trip because I knew I really wanted to get a ring there. Hopefully things aren't too expensive. We shall see. I think we'll also probably be taking a walk along the seawall out to Salthill. I'll remember to take pictures this time, not like in cute little Dingle. Although, just fyi, from what we saw of Galway last night, Dingle is much cuter. As in, I didn't see any drunk guys peeing against buildings in Dingle. Yep, that happened last night. People walked by like nothing was out of the ordinary. Weird. I'm acting under the assumption that we won't see that in the middle of the day today. Fingers crossed.
Off we go! Be back with pictures later tonight.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Yep, I still like saying "Dingle"
I don't think Ireland runs out of cute, big little towns. Dingle seems to be somewhere in size between Killarney and Blarney, but regardless of its size and obvious tourist appeal, it maintains a genuine small town charm. We walked through town past at least half a dozen local pottery workshops, probably twice as many little art galleries, cafes, and even a teeny little cheese shop. (We may or may not be bringing something back for Ross from said teeny little shop.) We also, after much nagging from me, got to try ice cream from Murphy's - another Bobby Flay recommendation. With flavors like sea salt, honeycomb, and brown bread, it makes for an interesting stop. For fresh made ice cream, prices were surprisingly reasonable, so Ben & I each got two flavors. Ben combined chocolate with Baileys while I had Baileys with whiskey. Although I am no whiskey drinker by any stretch of the imagination, this was a delicious mix. Again, thank you, Bobby Flay.
After nebbing into most shops on the main thoroughfares, we got back in the car for a change of pace. To save time on the (apparently) crap ton of driving Ben gets to do tomorrow to get us to Galway, we decided to tackle the Slea Head Drive along the edge of Dingle Peninsula before dinner. Aside from being outlandishly beautiful (shocker), there isn't too much particularly thrilling to report without having the pictures to show you yet. We did, however, stop at a few beaches along the coast that were quite lovely. One in particular required a long walk down a path carved into the cliff side, which provided a great look almost directly down on the beach. Several people had already made the requisite protestations of love in the sand below. We went a different route. With my muffled shouts from up on the path as guidance, Ben set out walking out the letters of Phi Delta Theta some six feet tall in the sand. I'm really excited to get those pictures uploaded to Facebook because I know the brothers will (excuse me, Mom) flip their shit.
The rest of the route was on narrow country roads through the mountains and along the coast. We had our first run in with a rogue sheep and opposing traffic. While I found it hilarious, Ben looked a bit stressed. The sheep hung out in front of our car while the opposing car passed. But, rather than being a good little sheepy and moving back out of the way once the other car was clear, he/she decided to remain firmly planted five feet directly in front of wherever we were, bleating in sheepy confusion all the while. It took another opposing car approaching for sheepy to finally move clear of our section of the lane and hop up onto the hedge that formed the barrier between roadway and pasture. We booked it around the sheep before it could change its mind and move back into our path.
We also had our first experience with the power of GAA (Gaelic Athletic Association) sports. While driving through yet another one-lane-road, plopped-down-in-the-middle-of-farm-land kind of town, we noticed cars parked all along the edge of the narrow little roadway. Again, this is in the middle of farm land with only scattered houses here and there. The line of cars just stretched on and on. There were more cars along the road than houses we could see. We finally came up on whatever was such a big deal - a local hurling match on the town GAA pitch. Think the streets around your high school's football stadium filled with cars on a fall Friday night, but then put it in the middle of the idyllic Irish countryside and make sure literally every single person attends. It was wild. If we could have found a place to park the car, we probably would have stopped to watch.
It took a bit more driving through gorgeous scene after gorgeous scene before we drove back into Dingle. And we were hungry! As I mentioned earlier, I wanted some seafood. But in our walk around town earlier in the night, we had noticed the prices on the outdoor menu boards were severely out of our price range. I know a lot of you guys gifted us with graduation/trip moneys, but we couldn't bring ourselves to spend right around $30 for each entree. It just wasn't going to happen. So we consulted our handy dandy guidebook (which thought it was really funny when it listed several of these pricey restaurants as "midrange"), with our eyes pealed for the "budget" section. Funnily enough, we ended up at an authentic little (and I mean little) pizza place situated across the street from a huge tourist pub and next door to a swanky seafood restaurant. Oh, and by "authentic", I mean that there was one little old Italian guy with an adorable Italian accent whistling songs in the itty bitty kitchen while he made our pizzas. I got the quattro formaggi while Ben got the carnavore. Please contain your surprise as I tell you that I also took pictures of these yummy, yummy pizzas.
Novecento (the pizza place) was so tiny that only take out was available, so we brought it back to the B&B to eat. The plan was to catch up on Bones and Glee. Too bad there are some mysterious international rights issues so you can't stream US tv shows abroad. Instead, we started downloading rentals from iTunes to catch up later in the evening. In the meantime, we turned on channel RTE One to watch this year's Eurovision final. Talk of Eurovision has been all over the radio these past few days. Since we spend so much time in the car, it was hard not to know about it. If you didn't know, Eurovision is a huge freaking deal. Like, hundreds of millions of people watching across over 100 countries huge. As tonight is the final, the top 25 songs (of 43) were performed and we're watching the voting results now. Some of the songs were.. interesting. If you want to see the range of songs on offer, search for clips from Moldova, France, Ireland, and Georgia. There were a few I wouldn't mind hearing on US radio, although we've watched so many at this point that I can't remember all of them. Not to be biased, but Italy's was really good. We're still having trouble watching the tv show rentals on the iPad, so it looks like we'll be watching Eurovision 2011 through to the end. I'll let you know how that goes.
Tomorrow we have a lot of driving ahead of us. Not only do we need to get off the last of these peninsulas, but we've got a drive up the coast, a stop off at the Cliffs of Moher, and another long drive to Galway. Luckily, Galway is a hotel, rather than a B&B so we can check in rather late in the day. With B&Bs, it is apparently bad form to show up later than 5 or 6pm. With as much driving as the map and our previous hosts suggest we have ahead of us, we'll need the extra time to check in late in the day. It also helps that Galway is a two night stay, so arriving late the first night won't set us back too much in our excursions.
Well, after much trial and error, Ben got the tv rentals working. I'd love to catch up on our shows, but this Eurovision thing has gotten kind of addicting. It's about halfway through the voting results now and neither one of us seems willing to turn it off. This means tv and, unfortunately, photos too, are getting put off for a few more hours. Hopefully some of the drive tomorrow will be only averagely beautiful, so I won't feel bad about getting the netbook out to organize photos in the car. Not sure if we have internet in the Galway hotel, but hopefully another post and a few more photos will be added then.
Until next time..
After nebbing into most shops on the main thoroughfares, we got back in the car for a change of pace. To save time on the (apparently) crap ton of driving Ben gets to do tomorrow to get us to Galway, we decided to tackle the Slea Head Drive along the edge of Dingle Peninsula before dinner. Aside from being outlandishly beautiful (shocker), there isn't too much particularly thrilling to report without having the pictures to show you yet. We did, however, stop at a few beaches along the coast that were quite lovely. One in particular required a long walk down a path carved into the cliff side, which provided a great look almost directly down on the beach. Several people had already made the requisite protestations of love in the sand below. We went a different route. With my muffled shouts from up on the path as guidance, Ben set out walking out the letters of Phi Delta Theta some six feet tall in the sand. I'm really excited to get those pictures uploaded to Facebook because I know the brothers will (excuse me, Mom) flip their shit.
The rest of the route was on narrow country roads through the mountains and along the coast. We had our first run in with a rogue sheep and opposing traffic. While I found it hilarious, Ben looked a bit stressed. The sheep hung out in front of our car while the opposing car passed. But, rather than being a good little sheepy and moving back out of the way once the other car was clear, he/she decided to remain firmly planted five feet directly in front of wherever we were, bleating in sheepy confusion all the while. It took another opposing car approaching for sheepy to finally move clear of our section of the lane and hop up onto the hedge that formed the barrier between roadway and pasture. We booked it around the sheep before it could change its mind and move back into our path.
We also had our first experience with the power of GAA (Gaelic Athletic Association) sports. While driving through yet another one-lane-road, plopped-down-in-the-middle-of-farm-land kind of town, we noticed cars parked all along the edge of the narrow little roadway. Again, this is in the middle of farm land with only scattered houses here and there. The line of cars just stretched on and on. There were more cars along the road than houses we could see. We finally came up on whatever was such a big deal - a local hurling match on the town GAA pitch. Think the streets around your high school's football stadium filled with cars on a fall Friday night, but then put it in the middle of the idyllic Irish countryside and make sure literally every single person attends. It was wild. If we could have found a place to park the car, we probably would have stopped to watch.
It took a bit more driving through gorgeous scene after gorgeous scene before we drove back into Dingle. And we were hungry! As I mentioned earlier, I wanted some seafood. But in our walk around town earlier in the night, we had noticed the prices on the outdoor menu boards were severely out of our price range. I know a lot of you guys gifted us with graduation/trip moneys, but we couldn't bring ourselves to spend right around $30 for each entree. It just wasn't going to happen. So we consulted our handy dandy guidebook (which thought it was really funny when it listed several of these pricey restaurants as "midrange"), with our eyes pealed for the "budget" section. Funnily enough, we ended up at an authentic little (and I mean little) pizza place situated across the street from a huge tourist pub and next door to a swanky seafood restaurant. Oh, and by "authentic", I mean that there was one little old Italian guy with an adorable Italian accent whistling songs in the itty bitty kitchen while he made our pizzas. I got the quattro formaggi while Ben got the carnavore. Please contain your surprise as I tell you that I also took pictures of these yummy, yummy pizzas.
Novecento (the pizza place) was so tiny that only take out was available, so we brought it back to the B&B to eat. The plan was to catch up on Bones and Glee. Too bad there are some mysterious international rights issues so you can't stream US tv shows abroad. Instead, we started downloading rentals from iTunes to catch up later in the evening. In the meantime, we turned on channel RTE One to watch this year's Eurovision final. Talk of Eurovision has been all over the radio these past few days. Since we spend so much time in the car, it was hard not to know about it. If you didn't know, Eurovision is a huge freaking deal. Like, hundreds of millions of people watching across over 100 countries huge. As tonight is the final, the top 25 songs (of 43) were performed and we're watching the voting results now. Some of the songs were.. interesting. If you want to see the range of songs on offer, search for clips from Moldova, France, Ireland, and Georgia. There were a few I wouldn't mind hearing on US radio, although we've watched so many at this point that I can't remember all of them. Not to be biased, but Italy's was really good. We're still having trouble watching the tv show rentals on the iPad, so it looks like we'll be watching Eurovision 2011 through to the end. I'll let you know how that goes.
Tomorrow we have a lot of driving ahead of us. Not only do we need to get off the last of these peninsulas, but we've got a drive up the coast, a stop off at the Cliffs of Moher, and another long drive to Galway. Luckily, Galway is a hotel, rather than a B&B so we can check in rather late in the day. With B&Bs, it is apparently bad form to show up later than 5 or 6pm. With as much driving as the map and our previous hosts suggest we have ahead of us, we'll need the extra time to check in late in the day. It also helps that Galway is a two night stay, so arriving late the first night won't set us back too much in our excursions.
Well, after much trial and error, Ben got the tv rentals working. I'd love to catch up on our shows, but this Eurovision thing has gotten kind of addicting. It's about halfway through the voting results now and neither one of us seems willing to turn it off. This means tv and, unfortunately, photos too, are getting put off for a few more hours. Hopefully some of the drive tomorrow will be only averagely beautiful, so I won't feel bad about getting the netbook out to organize photos in the car. Not sure if we have internet in the Galway hotel, but hopefully another post and a few more photos will be added then.
Until next time..
I like the way the locals say 'Dingle'
Made it to Duinin House just outside of Dingle. We arrived here earlier than we have most places at this point, so we almost don't know what to do with ourselves. With some helpful maps from our host, I think we're going to walk around town and check out some different shops and things while they're still open. Then we'll hop back in the car to do the Slea (said like 'sleigh') Head Drive around the edge of the peninsula before coming back into town for dinner. We're in yet another coastal town, so there are quite a few seafood places I've been eyeing up the brochures for. Right now I'm (because Ben could care less about seafood restaurants) considering Lord Baker's (the oldest pub & largest restaurant in town) versus Out of the Blue (doesn't open for business unless they've caught something good that day). Both will probably be more expensive than we've been trying to eat so far along the trip, but it might be worth it. If the price is too far out of our league, there's always Galway for seafood before we head back to Dublin. That's my thought anyway.
Ok, time to go explore. Be back with more stories (and hopefully photos) later tonight.
Ok, time to go explore. Be back with more stories (and hopefully photos) later tonight.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Not so mini update
Hello again, all! Just got back to our darling beachside B&B after a scrumptious dinner at a great pub in a tiny fishing town called Portmagee. We really have been finding some gems on this trip. There's big business in pubs and B&Bs here, so you know that to some extent it's all a tourist trap, but the people have all been wonderful so you never feel conned by it. I don't know why I thought of that, but it's been something I've been considering. Anywho, on to the update of the past two days. Let's begin where we left off, shall we? On our way back into Blarney..
After breakfast and showers, it was back into Blarney to finish exploring the grounds around the castle. We strolled through town a bit (the less driving, the better) and stumbled upon a simple little crafters market outside the very tourist trappy shopping mall/restaurant/hotel. There were maybe only about a dozen stalls altogether, but it was fun to neb around anyway. There were locally made soaps, breads, herbal remedies (I thought of you, mom), food carts, and a musician. The end of the row of stalls led right onto the walking path to the castle, so that was perfect. We just barely missed a run-in with a tour bus group along the way. There had to have been fifty of them and we had no intentions of getting stuck behind them at the till to get onto the grounds. I'm all for a leisurely vacation in Ireland, but that would have tried my before-noon patience. Luckily, we not only got ahead of them, but we had already seen the castle the night before, so we wouldn't get caught up in their queue inside either. We headed straight for Blarney House, an 18th century home on the grounds currently occupied by local nobility of sorts. They keep the house in fairly accurate period condition, so guided tours are available for a short window of time each day. The guide was a very knowledgeable local historian who gave us the canned schpiel he was supposed to share along with tidbits from his own research, so that made for a nice touch. Unfortunately, as it is someone's current residence, we could only take pictures of the outside, which is rather impressive in it's own right. We continued through the Blarney grounds by exploring Rock Close, which is apparently often overlooked, along with the house. I felt like I was in an ancient Storybook Forest, with the Wishing Steps, Fairy Glade, and Witch's Kitchen to venture through. Got lots of pictures of all of that to share, of course.
These adventures had stirred up something of an appetite, so it was back to the Muskerry Arms for lunch before we left for Killarney. I finally had myself some real honest fish and chips! The fish was great, but the wedge-like fries left something to be desired. You know, just in case you find yourself in Blarney someday and are curious about what to order at the Muskerry Arms. As much as I wanted to stay and "just take one quick look" at the shopping plaza, Ben wisely shut that down and got us on our way. The drive to Killarney was mostly uneventful. I say that because we've done so much driving since then that has been very eventful, so, since nothing sticks out from this drive, it must not have been all that wild, crazy, or worth mentioning.
Killarney too, at least for the first night, wasn't all that exciting. There was a little confusion getting into the Woodlands B&B and then we weren't sure what to do with the night, so, by the time we got into town, most shops were closing and the only real option for entertainment was eating. We ate well, as we have the whole of the trip. We've only really eaten pub food technically (outside of the one cafe), but it has certainly served our stomachs well. After that it was another stroll back to the B&B (have you noticed that anti-driving stance Ben has taken?) to watch last week's Glee and organize the accumulated pictures. I only mention Glee because it was the 'Rumours' episode, aptly named for a Fleetwood Mac album, a band I am weirdly dorky about. (Dad, I'm not entirely sure how you feel about Fleetwood Mac, but they did a version of 'Never Going Back Again' that I think you would have enjoyed.) Anyway, it was a thoroughly enjoyable episode, Ben laughed while I sang along to every song, and I even got two albums of photos prepped to go up on Facebook. So productive.
Particularly for family, if I don't have you on Facebook, here are the public links to the photos we have uploaded so far. Keep in mind: this is only a small selection of photos. If you know me at all, you know there is no way I could go on a trip like this and only take these few photos. The photos haven't been cropped or edited or had anything fun with them yet to make them look prettier. Finally, Ben wrote all the captions, so if an inside joke doesn't fly, blame him. Also, captions have yet to be added for day 2. Day 1, Flying & Dublin: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150182202111965.303543.735401964&l=f2855a2ca5
Day 2, Bit of Dublin & Blarney: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150183870271965.303656.735401964&l=ff45e3eeaf
That brings us up to this morning in Killarney, I think. Breakfast was wonderful (I had my first taste of smoked salmon = yum), and we got to get to know our hosts a little better. Paddy came out to talk with us all through breakfast and was full of helpful tidbits for getting around. Although we had decided to be rebels and drive the Ring of Kerry clockwise (rather than the more popular anticlockwise), he pointed out that the unconventional route would make it easier for us to visit a few often-missed stops: Ross Castle, Muckross House, and Torc Waterfall. I kind of want to make an account on TripAdvisor and leave him a stellar review just for that advice alone. Granted, the Ring of Kerry is beautiful and awe inspiring and will leave you literally without words just by driving it, but it wouldn't have been the same without those stops.
Ross Castle is a wonderfully restored tower house style castle on Lough Leane dating from the 15th century. Again, photos are not permitted inside, a common theme amongst guided tours thus far, but the guide provided some insight into what it would have been like to live in a tower house castle - another common occurrence once, as literally thousands of these things were built all over Ireland some 500 years ago. They were even accommodating enough to show us what bathroom/dry cleaning facilities would have been like at the time - drafty, smelly, and communal. Great. After that tour was done, it was just a short drive down the road to Muckross House. Literally, "muckross" translates to "pig peninsula" as wild boar used to inhabit the area before people took over the scenic spot some couple hundred years ago. The house and grounds are quite simply massive. The house had something like 60+ chimneys and over 20 different bell pulls. The estate encompasses so much land that when it was donated to the Irish government in the 1930s, it became the country's first national park. There are so many lakes that something like one quarter of the park in water. And man, are they beautiful lakes. Wow. Just, wow. We only had one more stop recommended by Paddy before we officially started the Ring of Kerry within the Killarney National Park, but it's only going to be a blip in this entry because the Ring is just that damned beautiful. Torc Waterfall, although it can be reaching by jaunting car (horse-drawn carriage), we approached via Ford Focus to save on time. It's only a short hike through the woods along the stream/river to get to the fall and literally everything around you but the water is green. It's quiet and lush and damp and you could swear there had to be a Tolkien-esque elf nearby. The two minute walk takes at least five because you just need to stop and stare around you every few steps. The fall itself is beautiful and loud and just plain pretty. Thanks, Paddy, it was completely worth the side trip.
Once that was finished, we well and truly started in on the first half of the Ring of Kerry. The peninsula the Ring is situated on encompasses massive lakes, rocky fields, acres upon acres of mountainous pasture, narrow hairpin winding roads, expansive bays, and windswept sea shore. And that was only the first half! I took, quite literally, several hundred pictures. Granted, many of these were individual, overlapping shots meant to be turned into sweeping panoramas after some Photoshop wizardry, but still! It's a lot of pictures. You hear people use words like "speechless" and "breathless". I'm sure I've used those words myself before. I must amend myself. Without hyperbole, I saw some of the most beautiful vistas today that my eyes may ever see. Driving through those mountains provided breathtaking, truly took my breath away, views of the kind of countryside that pictures will never, ever do justice. Like crawling through the Great Pyramids, or standing in mosques five times as old as the United States itself, I doubt I will ever have enough words or pictures to fully describe these things to you. I want to be able to, and I know that when I see you, I will certainly try, but it will not be enough. It's simply not possible. I can show you pictures and probably make up words, but it is just too big, too beautiful, too too for me to express!
And the thing is, there's more to come. This was only the first half of the Ring of Kerry! We have nearly the whole other side of the peninsula to go tomorrow, along with the majority of Dingle Peninsula, which most sources say is the more beautiful of the two. More beautiful? It gets more beautiful?? I nearly cried writing about what we saw today. I don't think I can physically handle more beautiful! We'll just have to see when tomorrow comes.
Ok, after that novela, let's see if I can wrap up the rest of our night here in the teeny tiny town of, well, we aren't really in a town right now. We're situated right along St. Finian's Bay between the seemingly equal minuscule towns of Ballinskellig and Portmagee. Like, one lane road with a useless line painted down the middle with an unfenced sheep/cow pasture on either side kind of towns. I loved being in Blarney because it had a small town feel in spite of its tourist-ness. This place? It has a small town feel because it really is a small town. Any tourism comes from the fact that its a small town perched on what is, so far, the most beautiful little corner of the world. As I sit up in bed to write this, I am looking directly out our window, across the lawn, across the road, across the unobstructed stretch of beach and into the Atlantic Ocean. So far, life doesn't get any better than this.
We left earlier tonight to drive to Portmagee ("just o'er the mountain") for dinner, but wanted to stop to stroll along the little patch of beach first. We weren't there long, just us, some sand and water, when up from the road runs this dog. Just, out of nowhere! I'm not sure what he thought he saw, but it didn't take him long to get into the Remington trademarked "Ball? You have a ball? Throw the ball! When are you going to throw the ball? I want to chase the ball!" stance. Unfortunately for him, we had no ball. But we did find a stick! He (after checking his tags we found his name to be Ringo) seemed to feel stick was a suitable substitute for ball. Ben positively reveled in it - playing with a big happy farm dog on a beach on the coast of rural Ireland. If I thought he was in love with the Guinness factory? Ha! Nearly forgotten in this setting. Dinner, at least, was certainly forgotten. We played with Ringo for quite a while before mysterious, pretty, long-haired, undetermined shepherd dog also came down to join us. Although this dog got in on the game of fetch (or, as I like to call it, 'run really fast and kick up sand at the camera'), it seemed a bit skiddish when we got super close, so we never got a look at its handy tag. More fetch was played, the stick was broken in half (since sharing is apparently not a dog concept), but eventually dinner was remembered. The dogs followed us back up the beach and when we turned off for the footpath, the dogs turned the other way and trotted back the way they came, presumably to a nearby sheep/cow farm. We never figured out the other one's name and I'm still kind of worried about the poor things getting out on the road so easily like that, so I plan on asking about them with our hostess Bridie in the morning, in case you were worried too. She's either going to think we're crazy for playing with the town strays, or she'll laugh because the neighbor's dogs are smart enough to spot two suckers willing to play with random dogs from 300m.
When we finally made it to the recommended Bridge Bar in Portmagee for dinner, the smell of salt air had me hungry for seafood. Ben? Apparently not the seafood type, though I still mommed him and made him try everything in the mixed bag seafood dish I got but had a French name I can't remember. Regardless, incredibly yummy. We also noshed on some filo wrapped, fried prawns (aka shrimp - I love Irish lingo) for starters and homemade whiskey cake for dessert. Can't go wrong there, right? We met the cutest older couple sitting along the bench beside us who we chatted with all through and after dinner. He was English but now lived in Austrian with his Austrian wife whose English was not that great. But they were sweet and asked us about our holiday and life back in the States and would we be brave enough to get up and dance later? Dance? Oh yeah, didn't you know? There's live music and set dancing every Friday night. When the owner of the place stopped by to check in, he explained that this was what most of the locals did all year round, it wasn't just a show for tourists - although that's what it seemed to become in peak season. You partner up and dance in groups of eight, with each of the dozen or so local small towns having its own particular signature dance. Awesome, right? Totally. Were we going to, literally, step on toes by trying to join in? Heck, no! At one point our cute table neighbors did try their hand (or feet?) at a slower number, but we weren't Guinness-brave enough, since we knew we had another death defying drive up and over the mountain on one lane switchbacks to traverse before we saw the bay again.
Which is where we find ourselves now. It seems I have written quite the novel here, so if you have busy lives, I apologize. I can give you the sweetened condensed version when I see you next. In the meantime, I am off to bed as this novel took me well past my Irish bedtime. Hopefully I shall have a both shorter and sweeter update for you again tomorrow night from Duinin House in Dingle.
After breakfast and showers, it was back into Blarney to finish exploring the grounds around the castle. We strolled through town a bit (the less driving, the better) and stumbled upon a simple little crafters market outside the very tourist trappy shopping mall/restaurant/hotel. There were maybe only about a dozen stalls altogether, but it was fun to neb around anyway. There were locally made soaps, breads, herbal remedies (I thought of you, mom), food carts, and a musician. The end of the row of stalls led right onto the walking path to the castle, so that was perfect. We just barely missed a run-in with a tour bus group along the way. There had to have been fifty of them and we had no intentions of getting stuck behind them at the till to get onto the grounds. I'm all for a leisurely vacation in Ireland, but that would have tried my before-noon patience. Luckily, we not only got ahead of them, but we had already seen the castle the night before, so we wouldn't get caught up in their queue inside either. We headed straight for Blarney House, an 18th century home on the grounds currently occupied by local nobility of sorts. They keep the house in fairly accurate period condition, so guided tours are available for a short window of time each day. The guide was a very knowledgeable local historian who gave us the canned schpiel he was supposed to share along with tidbits from his own research, so that made for a nice touch. Unfortunately, as it is someone's current residence, we could only take pictures of the outside, which is rather impressive in it's own right. We continued through the Blarney grounds by exploring Rock Close, which is apparently often overlooked, along with the house. I felt like I was in an ancient Storybook Forest, with the Wishing Steps, Fairy Glade, and Witch's Kitchen to venture through. Got lots of pictures of all of that to share, of course.
These adventures had stirred up something of an appetite, so it was back to the Muskerry Arms for lunch before we left for Killarney. I finally had myself some real honest fish and chips! The fish was great, but the wedge-like fries left something to be desired. You know, just in case you find yourself in Blarney someday and are curious about what to order at the Muskerry Arms. As much as I wanted to stay and "just take one quick look" at the shopping plaza, Ben wisely shut that down and got us on our way. The drive to Killarney was mostly uneventful. I say that because we've done so much driving since then that has been very eventful, so, since nothing sticks out from this drive, it must not have been all that wild, crazy, or worth mentioning.
Killarney too, at least for the first night, wasn't all that exciting. There was a little confusion getting into the Woodlands B&B and then we weren't sure what to do with the night, so, by the time we got into town, most shops were closing and the only real option for entertainment was eating. We ate well, as we have the whole of the trip. We've only really eaten pub food technically (outside of the one cafe), but it has certainly served our stomachs well. After that it was another stroll back to the B&B (have you noticed that anti-driving stance Ben has taken?) to watch last week's Glee and organize the accumulated pictures. I only mention Glee because it was the 'Rumours' episode, aptly named for a Fleetwood Mac album, a band I am weirdly dorky about. (Dad, I'm not entirely sure how you feel about Fleetwood Mac, but they did a version of 'Never Going Back Again' that I think you would have enjoyed.) Anyway, it was a thoroughly enjoyable episode, Ben laughed while I sang along to every song, and I even got two albums of photos prepped to go up on Facebook. So productive.
Particularly for family, if I don't have you on Facebook, here are the public links to the photos we have uploaded so far. Keep in mind: this is only a small selection of photos. If you know me at all, you know there is no way I could go on a trip like this and only take these few photos. The photos haven't been cropped or edited or had anything fun with them yet to make them look prettier. Finally, Ben wrote all the captions, so if an inside joke doesn't fly, blame him. Also, captions have yet to be added for day 2. Day 1, Flying & Dublin: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150182202111965.303543.735401964&l=f2855a2ca5
Day 2, Bit of Dublin & Blarney: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150183870271965.303656.735401964&l=ff45e3eeaf
That brings us up to this morning in Killarney, I think. Breakfast was wonderful (I had my first taste of smoked salmon = yum), and we got to get to know our hosts a little better. Paddy came out to talk with us all through breakfast and was full of helpful tidbits for getting around. Although we had decided to be rebels and drive the Ring of Kerry clockwise (rather than the more popular anticlockwise), he pointed out that the unconventional route would make it easier for us to visit a few often-missed stops: Ross Castle, Muckross House, and Torc Waterfall. I kind of want to make an account on TripAdvisor and leave him a stellar review just for that advice alone. Granted, the Ring of Kerry is beautiful and awe inspiring and will leave you literally without words just by driving it, but it wouldn't have been the same without those stops.
Ross Castle is a wonderfully restored tower house style castle on Lough Leane dating from the 15th century. Again, photos are not permitted inside, a common theme amongst guided tours thus far, but the guide provided some insight into what it would have been like to live in a tower house castle - another common occurrence once, as literally thousands of these things were built all over Ireland some 500 years ago. They were even accommodating enough to show us what bathroom/dry cleaning facilities would have been like at the time - drafty, smelly, and communal. Great. After that tour was done, it was just a short drive down the road to Muckross House. Literally, "muckross" translates to "pig peninsula" as wild boar used to inhabit the area before people took over the scenic spot some couple hundred years ago. The house and grounds are quite simply massive. The house had something like 60+ chimneys and over 20 different bell pulls. The estate encompasses so much land that when it was donated to the Irish government in the 1930s, it became the country's first national park. There are so many lakes that something like one quarter of the park in water. And man, are they beautiful lakes. Wow. Just, wow. We only had one more stop recommended by Paddy before we officially started the Ring of Kerry within the Killarney National Park, but it's only going to be a blip in this entry because the Ring is just that damned beautiful. Torc Waterfall, although it can be reaching by jaunting car (horse-drawn carriage), we approached via Ford Focus to save on time. It's only a short hike through the woods along the stream/river to get to the fall and literally everything around you but the water is green. It's quiet and lush and damp and you could swear there had to be a Tolkien-esque elf nearby. The two minute walk takes at least five because you just need to stop and stare around you every few steps. The fall itself is beautiful and loud and just plain pretty. Thanks, Paddy, it was completely worth the side trip.
Once that was finished, we well and truly started in on the first half of the Ring of Kerry. The peninsula the Ring is situated on encompasses massive lakes, rocky fields, acres upon acres of mountainous pasture, narrow hairpin winding roads, expansive bays, and windswept sea shore. And that was only the first half! I took, quite literally, several hundred pictures. Granted, many of these were individual, overlapping shots meant to be turned into sweeping panoramas after some Photoshop wizardry, but still! It's a lot of pictures. You hear people use words like "speechless" and "breathless". I'm sure I've used those words myself before. I must amend myself. Without hyperbole, I saw some of the most beautiful vistas today that my eyes may ever see. Driving through those mountains provided breathtaking, truly took my breath away, views of the kind of countryside that pictures will never, ever do justice. Like crawling through the Great Pyramids, or standing in mosques five times as old as the United States itself, I doubt I will ever have enough words or pictures to fully describe these things to you. I want to be able to, and I know that when I see you, I will certainly try, but it will not be enough. It's simply not possible. I can show you pictures and probably make up words, but it is just too big, too beautiful, too too for me to express!
And the thing is, there's more to come. This was only the first half of the Ring of Kerry! We have nearly the whole other side of the peninsula to go tomorrow, along with the majority of Dingle Peninsula, which most sources say is the more beautiful of the two. More beautiful? It gets more beautiful?? I nearly cried writing about what we saw today. I don't think I can physically handle more beautiful! We'll just have to see when tomorrow comes.
Ok, after that novela, let's see if I can wrap up the rest of our night here in the teeny tiny town of, well, we aren't really in a town right now. We're situated right along St. Finian's Bay between the seemingly equal minuscule towns of Ballinskellig and Portmagee. Like, one lane road with a useless line painted down the middle with an unfenced sheep/cow pasture on either side kind of towns. I loved being in Blarney because it had a small town feel in spite of its tourist-ness. This place? It has a small town feel because it really is a small town. Any tourism comes from the fact that its a small town perched on what is, so far, the most beautiful little corner of the world. As I sit up in bed to write this, I am looking directly out our window, across the lawn, across the road, across the unobstructed stretch of beach and into the Atlantic Ocean. So far, life doesn't get any better than this.
We left earlier tonight to drive to Portmagee ("just o'er the mountain") for dinner, but wanted to stop to stroll along the little patch of beach first. We weren't there long, just us, some sand and water, when up from the road runs this dog. Just, out of nowhere! I'm not sure what he thought he saw, but it didn't take him long to get into the Remington trademarked "Ball? You have a ball? Throw the ball! When are you going to throw the ball? I want to chase the ball!" stance. Unfortunately for him, we had no ball. But we did find a stick! He (after checking his tags we found his name to be Ringo) seemed to feel stick was a suitable substitute for ball. Ben positively reveled in it - playing with a big happy farm dog on a beach on the coast of rural Ireland. If I thought he was in love with the Guinness factory? Ha! Nearly forgotten in this setting. Dinner, at least, was certainly forgotten. We played with Ringo for quite a while before mysterious, pretty, long-haired, undetermined shepherd dog also came down to join us. Although this dog got in on the game of fetch (or, as I like to call it, 'run really fast and kick up sand at the camera'), it seemed a bit skiddish when we got super close, so we never got a look at its handy tag. More fetch was played, the stick was broken in half (since sharing is apparently not a dog concept), but eventually dinner was remembered. The dogs followed us back up the beach and when we turned off for the footpath, the dogs turned the other way and trotted back the way they came, presumably to a nearby sheep/cow farm. We never figured out the other one's name and I'm still kind of worried about the poor things getting out on the road so easily like that, so I plan on asking about them with our hostess Bridie in the morning, in case you were worried too. She's either going to think we're crazy for playing with the town strays, or she'll laugh because the neighbor's dogs are smart enough to spot two suckers willing to play with random dogs from 300m.
When we finally made it to the recommended Bridge Bar in Portmagee for dinner, the smell of salt air had me hungry for seafood. Ben? Apparently not the seafood type, though I still mommed him and made him try everything in the mixed bag seafood dish I got but had a French name I can't remember. Regardless, incredibly yummy. We also noshed on some filo wrapped, fried prawns (aka shrimp - I love Irish lingo) for starters and homemade whiskey cake for dessert. Can't go wrong there, right? We met the cutest older couple sitting along the bench beside us who we chatted with all through and after dinner. He was English but now lived in Austrian with his Austrian wife whose English was not that great. But they were sweet and asked us about our holiday and life back in the States and would we be brave enough to get up and dance later? Dance? Oh yeah, didn't you know? There's live music and set dancing every Friday night. When the owner of the place stopped by to check in, he explained that this was what most of the locals did all year round, it wasn't just a show for tourists - although that's what it seemed to become in peak season. You partner up and dance in groups of eight, with each of the dozen or so local small towns having its own particular signature dance. Awesome, right? Totally. Were we going to, literally, step on toes by trying to join in? Heck, no! At one point our cute table neighbors did try their hand (or feet?) at a slower number, but we weren't Guinness-brave enough, since we knew we had another death defying drive up and over the mountain on one lane switchbacks to traverse before we saw the bay again.
Which is where we find ourselves now. It seems I have written quite the novel here, so if you have busy lives, I apologize. I can give you the sweetened condensed version when I see you next. In the meantime, I am off to bed as this novel took me well past my Irish bedtime. Hopefully I shall have a both shorter and sweeter update for you again tomorrow night from Duinin House in Dingle.
Mini update
Hopefully Blogger doesn't decide to crash on me again for the next 36 hours or so as I embark on this next update for you all. Last we spoke (in a sense), we were on our way into Blarney to explore a bit more before we got on the road to Killarney. (Keep in mind, the names of these towns sound so much better when said with the local accent.) We explored Killarney a bit in the evening, ate, slept, then started in on the first half of the Ring of Kerry. Our hosts were very helpful in pointing out some highlights that I know we would have bypassed otherwise. We're now settled in just outside of the little town of Portmagee, sitting in our room looking across the street at the beach on St. Finian's Bay. Yeah, it's amazing.
I'd love to regale you with all the intricate details, but Ben is nagging for dinner and a walk on the beach. Can a girl really argue with that? No, you're right. Off I go!
I'd love to regale you with all the intricate details, but Ben is nagging for dinner and a walk on the beach. Can a girl really argue with that? No, you're right. Off I go!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
