My Travels

Reentry...

Sat, 2 May 2009 10:18:36 -0400

Here I am, back in Hilton. Arrived in Rochester on time, and totally zoned. :) I think I am still a bit between places, but I am starting to get my brain around driving on the right, and am over my awe of three lane expressways. I DID kind of lean to the left when I pulled out of my driveway yesterday for the first time, but I snapped out of it. Ever brush your teeth with your other hand? (If you haven’t, try it - REALLY weird...) Or for that matter, do anything in a different manner than usual? You know that momentary brain twirl that happens as the neurons try to figure out what the hell is going on and how to make your hand work? Well, that is where my brain is. Especially when I pull out onto a road. LOL My brain is momentarily confused and blank. (NO comments, ANYONE!!) But, that will subside, especially with sleep and of course, time.  
In true feline fashion, Killian and Bailey looked at me when I walked in Thursday evening, said, “mew” (not even ME-OW) and played the “yeah so you’re here again, what’s the big deal?” act. But, when I went to bed, they were crawling over each other trying to get closest to me. LOL Needless to say I got a few paws in the face, and was suffering from furry tooth disorder, but they finally arranged themselves in a pile of fur and purring, and we all went to sleep. They have since decided that I am really me and I am staying, so now I cannot move without them following me. And, at the moment, I am sitting in my recliner, laptop perched on my knees, and a cat stretched over my arms, which makes a rather interesting challenge of typing. LOL But the purring gets me every time. Yes, I am a pushover, and I am their human, they are not my cats. I must admit - I didn’t miss the cat hair for three months... sshhh don’t tell them I said that.

The first thing I did yesterday morning was visit Starbucks and get a coffee. An Americano with hazelnut flavoring, and a shot of halfnhalf. AAAHHHH Not that the coffee in Ireland was bad, it was just not very consistent, and was often instant. (Gag, puke, choke).

Last evening, I surprised my great nephew Aaron at McD’s, he didn’t know I was home yet. And this shot is Aaron, Daityn (his sister) and me. Cody was at baseball, I can’t compete with sports! LOL Daityn was a baby when I left and she is now a walkin talkin toddler, almost 14 months old. Stop the world I wanna get off!!!

So this morning I popped into the BigM market here in the booming metropolis of Hilton to get some basics: OJ, milk, cereal, chocolate rice cakes, bananas, and, are you ready for this... WHOLE GRAIN POP TARTS. I did one of those cartoon double takes when I saw them on the shelf. The box said, “NEW! 20% of your daily fiber!” (It spoke to me, honest, in a deep chocolate voice...) Don’t know how new they really are, but they were new to me. Well, being a POP TART addict and having intended to buy a box as a treat anyway, I decided to be daring and try this supposedly healthier version. I must admit, I was an unbeliever - how could they improve on that cardboard pastry? But, I must say, they are NOT bad! So, not only am I getting fiber (KIM!) I am also fulfilling that deep seated craving for chocolate junk food. (The filling is still the same.) Ah, America is good.

The most surprising part of my shopping trip was the total: only $16 and some change!! I was floored. I had pulled out $30, thinking that might just cover it. Ireland is EXPENSIVE!!!! And, they DON’T have POP TARTS. Sigh, they will catch up with us someday.

I must admit, it feels rather weird being back here. But I think that can be attributed to that funky neuron phenomenon I mentioned earlier. My brain is playing Twister trying to get re-acclimated. But with the two fur balls clamoring for lap space, I am sure it won’t take me long to remember life before Ireland. This is not the best shot of me, and the cats turn their heads as soon as they see the camera because they know the flash is gonna go off, but I figured it was a good ending - back in my chair, covered in hair. :)

So this is my last entry in Blog from the Bog. I am working on the reentry into Hilton life, and am starting to think about what I have to do in my real life, yeah, I am working hard on thinking about it... :) I have enjoyed creating this record of my insanity and adventure, and I hope y’all have gotten a giggle or two and maybe even learned some trivia about Ireland that will serve you well if you ever appear on Jeopardy. Just promise me you’ll tell Alex Trivek to go soak his head...

Sláinte agus Slán!!
health and farewell...

Don’t know if that is proper Irish grammar but it gets my point across... :)

traveling is such a blast... NOT

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 14:50:51 -0400

So here I sit in NY City, in the jetBlue terminal of JFK Airport, awaiting the last leg of my trip home. I must admit it is very nice of jetBlue to provide a free hotspot so I can bug y’all with more insights, or perhaps they are out takes, I am not sure.

The flight from Ireland was uneventful, and we actually arrived about an hour early. And that, in most cases is great. But, my flight to Rah cha cha doesn’t happen until 5:30, so I ended up with about five hours to kill, and have about two and a half left. Just as I was walking out of customs, the jetBlue flight for 1:30 was boarding. AH! Just missed it...

But anyhoo, it is quite interesting just sitting here people watching. From airport employees, to passengers to security, to cabbies, there is an immense variety. I saw a family (I assume they were family) of people checking in at the jetBlue counter, who had at least twelve bags btween all of them (there were about four people), and they were using three agents, moving the bags around between people, raising a major ruckus. Then when I got up to the counter, the guy next to me had piled four bags on the scale all at once, and then was asking the agent all sorts of questions. LOL The person taking care of me looked up and said, “When you can get a bag on the scale, please do so.”

So now I am sitting here in the hotspot, which is a raised seating area, and I have a great view of the fast food court. Someone’s wheeled bag is squeaking like a bird, and everyone is looking around trying to find the source. There was a guy walking past a few minutes ago with plaid bermuda shorts, a no-sleeve t-shirt, and flip flops. Has it been warm here? And then there’s the little old granny and her husband trailing along behind her, both of them scooting behind three-wheeler walkers - the cadillac version. Every once in a while she looks back to make sure he is there, and waves at him to hurry up. LOL It is really cute actually.

Oh my goodness... A lady just ran down the ramp from the security check, obviously in a bit of a rush. However, she should wear different clothes if she is going to run like that... almost saw much more than I wanted to, underwire is obviously not a part of her vocabulary... LOL

So it feels a bit different here than in Ireland - much more... in a hurry. Also, much more advanced and user friendly. When I walked through the security checkpoint in Dublin, there were NO signs saying this way for gates, etc. I did find my way, obviously, and after a half hour in the customs line, (you can pre-clear customs on that side of the pond if you are coming from Ireland - comes in handy) I made it to the correct gate.

It is now 8:15 pm according to my body, and I am getting a bit zoned. Perhaps it is time to hit Dunkin Donuts (REAL coffee!!) or hell, maybe I’ll just have a beer and snooze all the way to Rochester. I may arrive with heavy lids, but at least I will be happy!

It’s hard to see but it is there...

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 13:25:50 -0400

I had no idea i would be creating another post today, but such adventures!! I just couldn’t wait...

I headed east from Galway (that would be inland). I had two destinations in mind, and both were just off the main drag, N6, which goes all the way to Dublin. No, I didn't go to Dublin, that’s not until Wednesday...

Anyhoo, as I left Galway, it started to, guess what... C’mon, I’ll give you FIVE guesses... Rain, rain, rain, rain, and rain. No biggie really, except that it has been a bit colder lately, and last night when I walked the prom I nearly froze my ears off in the wind - shoulda dug out those earmuffs! The two destinations were both focused on outdoor things, so I had already planned on getting a bit damp, but the downpour really put a damper on my excitement.

So I drove right past the first destination, and headed for the second, because there is an “interpretive center” connected with it, and I figured that would be inside. Aughrim was the site of the final battle in a war that had nothing to do with Ireland, except that it was under English rule at the time, and two English royal families were fighting - go figure. And of course, religion was involved (Catholic vs. Protestant) So without going into a dissertation about the whole mess, let’s just say that once again, Ireland got shite (yes I mean shite) upon by England.

So I reached Aughrim (AUW rim) and after a bit of searching found the interpretive center, and the sign that informed me that it was closed until May 2009. If I wanted more information, I could have gone to somebody’s store and asked so and so. LOL So much for the indoor dry alternative. I will have to interpret the info I found on the net meself. :)

SO! I headed back toward Galway, and by now the rain had let up to just an annoying mist/drizzle/occasional drop, so I decided to seek out the Turoe Stone, located (are you ready for this?) on site at the Turoe (TOO row) Pet Farm & Leisure Park. Yes, how the modern world has overtaken the ancient. This is a Stone that is thought to have been used in Celtic sacrifice rituals about 200 B.C. or so. It is a granite rock, intricately carved, and stands about 3” high. The artistry in the carving is amazing and quite unique - there are only a handful of stones like this throughout Europe. The craftsmanship and talent that this stone worker had was way ahead of hit time, or so the archeologists say. Some theories state that these particular stones are phallic stones, and the carvings represent semen and the continuation of life.

When I arrived at the Turoe Farm, I was interested to see a car park full of cars, and many kids running around in the pet area, despite the icky on again off again rain. I walked into the cafe, looking for some information and assuming I had to pay an entrance fee given the sign that said “PAY HERE”. The gentleman who welcomed me was very friendly and pointed out where the stone was. Now, I know I sometimes have difficulty finding things, especially if they are in plain sight, but when I looked where he pointed, not only did I NOT see anything resembling the stone, I DID see what looked like a two-seater outhouse. When I questioned him, he said, “Yep that’s it in there,” (see picture above) and proceeded to tell me the story.

The stone seems to have begun deteriorating rapidly in the past ten or so years, and the thought is that acid rain may be contributing to its demise. So, the government, in all its splendor ad infinite wisdom has been investigating ways to preserve the carving. In the mean time, they built the outhouse as protection against the elements and further damage. That was four years ago... There has been some talk about moving the stone to Dublin or Galway and into a museum. The locals are against that, for many reasons. But in the meantime, the windows (which are on the north to minimize exposure to light) are filthy on the INSIDE, and there is only a view of one side of the stone. Bummer. It is good that they are trying to preserve it, I would say, but leave it to the governmental agencies to make it into a decade long endeavor. Oh, and there was no charge to view the stone... just to pet the goats.

BUT! Don’t despair! The enterprising owner/manager or whatever he was, told me that they sell postcards with a picture of the stone on it, Pre-protection Enclosure. LOL And, they are selling them at below cost... The picture is actually from the 1970s (he said) and actually, I could tell how much the stone has eroded when I looked in on it. But at least it did seem to be resting comfortably, and, unlike me, was dry.

So here is the postcard shot, circa 1970s, and then shot again when I got back to my B&B.

And this was the shot I could get through the disgusting window. I made it black and white so the detail shows up a bit better. And no, that light on the right side is NOT the sun, it is where my shadow did not cover the window. :)

And here is the sign that explains it all. I told the guy he should start selling pictures of the sign. That way, in 100 years when it is rusty and ancient and declared a national treasure, his grandkids can be reaping the benefits. He thought that was a fine idea...

So my history hunting day was sort of a flop - but, as my wise niece recently reminded me, it isn’t the destination, but the journey that is important. Or something like that. :) I did get to see the stone in the flesh (so to speak) and had a nice conversation with the farmer. (Is a pet farm owner still considered a farmer?) And I used up some of the gas in my car so that when I return it on Tuesday (or is it due back tomorrow - oops better check that) I have got it as close to empty as I can get it without it coughing and dying before I enter the agency car park.

So sorry for two updates in one day, but I just had to share!!

Time is ticking

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 05:31:47 -0400

I have returned!! Well, maybe my return is not as Generally significant as MacArthur’s (did he ever actually?), but on a smaller scale, namely my world, it is. I am back in Galway as of yesterday, and have begun the official countdown to my return to the US. Seems strange to think that this time next week I will be making coffee and watching Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood instead of figuring out what ancient thing I want to see and how to find it.

I got into Galway yesterday mid afternoon, and hit my favorite coffee spot. It was nice to see a familiar face - namely the waiter I made friends with when I was here before. His first comment upon seeing me was, “HEY! Looks like you survived Kerry with little to no ill affect!” Poor Kerry, it is the brunt of everyone’s jokes here - kind of like our 315-ers. (Pardon me anyone who is reading this who may perhaps be one...)

I am in a B&B up the road from my previous palace, and while it is nice, once you’ve had perfection... “Mary of the Maps” can’t be beat. Don’t know if I have mentioned her before or not, but I stayed with her while I was waiting for my apartment in Salthill. She is great with directions around Galway. Takes out an 11x17 map that she has made, uses highlighters, and shows you where to go. LOL No pun intended. I will actually be stopping in to see her while I am here - she can’t get out for coffee very often, so I’ll take it in. She is a person I will keep in contact with after I go home.

So anyhoo, I have until Wednesday in Galway, then a train to Dublin, and my flight home on Thursday. Doesn’t seem possible that three months have gone by. And yet it DOES feel like forever since I have had a nice furry body purring in my lap... that would be my CATS, Greg. :)

I was doing the obligatory “what was your favorite part” last night as I lay in bed, eyes wide open at 1:00 a.m. unable to sleep. (Doritoes, undoubtedly, to blame.) There are probably too many favorites to name just one, but a comment that my friend Mary from Cork made did pop into my head. (She was the lady I met on the Women’s Weekend.) We were talking about the meaning of various words, like craik* (crack), and how confused Kim was (LOL) and Mary made mention that she just thought of me as a native, partially because I had gotten a handle on the language differences, but also because we got along so well so quickly, and I just seemed to fit. Made me feel good.

And then Poulnabrone Dolmen would be another highlight. Oh, and the Aran Islands, and the Skelligs, and, and, and... See what I mean?

I’ve added some more videos, in case you are interested. Most are from Beara. And don’t worry Kim - that blackmail one is not included... LOL But I do watch it and giggle every once in a while.

*Craik is the Irish slang for a good time. For instance, “ That trad session had awesome craik last Friday!” Meaning: We had a really good time listening to that traditional band last Friday. When someone says, “How’s the craik there,” they are asking if the conversation and laughter are at a high enough quotient to make a visit worthwhile.

I made it!!!

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 11:03:43 -0400

So I set out determined to make it ALL the way around the Beara Ring yesterday (Tuesday). I retraced my route from Modnay, going past the Heritage Park and Molly Gallivan’s. I ALMOST stopped for some of that ridiculously expensive whiskey, but then I thought of ice cream... :)

I promised myself I WOULD NOT stop to take any pictures, no matter how enticing the view was, until I reached Glengarriff. That is the town on the southeast side of the peninsula, where the Beara Ring route begins. And, I ALMOST made it... But then as I rounded a curve and the view opened up to include the ocean, the mountains, the green valley and the clouds, I gave in. What I didn’t stop to shoot were the three tunnels I had just gone through a few minutes earlier. They were marked on my map, and I wondered just what they could be to need designation on a map. Well, now I know. The route I was on, N71, wound through the mountains, and at some points was amazingly wide. And then, the first tunnel came into view, and the road became amazingly squished. It was really more of an underpass - the road went through the mountain, rather than around it, for perhaps 20 ft. Wupteedo, I thought in my American brain, how did that end up on a map? Then a bit later the second came, and was pretty much the same. And then the third one...

Now, I had my sunglasses on because it was a bright day (wahoo) and when I approached the third tunnel around a blind bend, I had no way of knowing, until I was upon it, that it was a bit longer than the previous two (signs? why would we post a sign??). Probably two football fields in length, hewn out of the mountain, dripping water here and there, and PITCH BLACK. All I could do was keep my eyes on the far end, stay on the CORRECT side of the road, and aim for the light. Now, one of you is probably saying, “Turn on your headlights silly!”, or perhaps, “Take OFF your sunglasses puddin head!” First, the sunglasses are prescription, so I kind of HAVE to keep them on, or I experience a different sort of blindness, and second, while the headlights would have alleviated the issue slightly, by the time I thought of it, I burst out into the light again. It wasn’t THAT long of a tunnel, just a bit disarming as you are bouncing along winding your way around very steep hills and watching for sheep at the same time. So, now I know why the tunnels are on the map - height restriction. Not at all like the tunnels I went through in Colorado, that were built for a semi to fit through. The third one was really neat - and if I hadn’t been quite so shocked to be in it, I would have stopped and taken a picture back through it. Ah well...

So I made my way into Glengarriff (amidst cheers from meself), and then proceeded to pick up the “Beara Way”, as the route is called. As I travelled, I kept waiting for the scenery to make me go aaagghhh, but nothing really hit. Not like it had on the Skellig Ring a few weeks ago. (Remember those pics?) And then, once I got far enough out onto the peninsula, closer to the tip, things opened up and oh my goodness it was amazing. All of those pictures you have seen of ireland in the advertisements (assuming you peruse such things) were right in front of me. Immensely green fields sewn together by fences, traveling up the hillside, and hemmed in by the ocean. Check it out... and it only got better.

SO I had made my way all the way down to the end of the peninsula, and was looking out at Dursey Island. The only method of reaching the island is by cable car, which has been in service since 1969 (yes THE SAME cable car...). It does look a bit rusted in spots, and the link I provided says that it is licensed to carry three men and a cow (should that be OR a cow?). The short channel (200 yds) between the island and the mainland is very hard to navigate due to currents, although it looked quite calm when I was there. Ah, the deceptive nature of nature. (Did I just write that??)

So I was considering a ride over to the island, given that it was a nice day and the cable didn’t look THAT rusted. But, when I enquired, I was told that I would be stuck on the island until 7:00 p.m. That was pushing it a bit, given my desire to be safe in my apartment before dark (sound familiar McLaughlins??). So, I had to forego the adventure (aw shucks) and be satisfied with pictures of the cable car coming and going. It really was a pretty area, and if I had not been minding the clock, I would have just sat for a while and looked.

I wound my way back up from the point and followed the Beara Way around to the side where Kim and I had done a bit of driving. But before I reached familiar territory, I saw absolutely amazing sites. (We should have kept going Kim!!) And then, having made it back to Kenmare, I missed my intended turn and ended up coming back to Killarney through the park again. It is very beautiful, but rather hard on the back muscles - twisty turny corkscrew roads - and tiring as well. But I am very glad I ended up there - I got some lovely sunset shots, and even had a guest of honor in some of them. (HA! Now you have to look at the photos! LOL)

I am very glad I got all the way around the Beara, but it was hard work!! It is definitley not something you want to do in an afternoon. I didn’t leave Killarney (officially leave that is) until about 1:30, and I got home at about 8:15. So today, I am not even touching the car - it and I are resting... I went to my favorite coffee shop, Murphy’s, got a mocha and read for awhile. And, imagine this - Murphy’s is ALSO an ice cream parlor... huh... go figure... coincidence??? I think not!

My time in Killarney is winding down, and I will be heading back to Galway on Saturday. A week from tomorrow (Thursday) I will be flying home. That does not seem possible. As much as I am ready to be home, I don’t want to not be here. And I DON’T want to deal with the airline hassles. I wish I could beam myself between Rochester and Ireland, just like on Star Trek. But with my luck, when I solidified, my elbow would be attached to my knee, or I would be talking out of my... ahem, maybe we should move along... LOL

Back to Beara - sort of

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 13:41:44 -0400

I had every intention of going back to the Beara Peninsula and seeing more of the Ring of Beara today. I even got up early (?) and left the house at 10:30-ish. I was going to cut across the inland end of the peninsula, and drive down the southeasterly coast side of it, rather than retracing the route Kim and I took last week. But as we all know, I tend to take longer than the average bear to find Beara (ooo - bad one), due to all the stuff that pops up between here and there.

SO!
I didn’t make it to the coast, nor did I make it out onto the official Beara Ring route.

BUT!
I did find some really cool stuff en route to my never reached destination.

First, I stopped a few times along Rt. N71 (that twisty turny take-Kim’s-life-in-my-hands-road) to snap a few shots at spots I have seen previously and needed to capture on film. Oops - on my memory card. Those are at the beginning of today’s album. I went through Kenmare, and went straight (well, straight in Ireland...) instead of turning toward the coast road. A few miles outside of Kenmare, much to my amazement and glee, I saw a sign for a Heritage Site. These are brown “point of interest” signs that pop up along the roads willy nilly. Sometimes there are so many signs on the post that I have literally stopped to read them all. Part of the problem is that there are brown signs, green major route signs, and white local route signs all on one post. (I think there is a metal post shortage over here.) So, depending on what you are looking for, the first thing your brain has to do is decipher which color you should pay attention to. Not good on twisty turny roads...

But... I digress

This particular Heritage Site was no only a Site, but a PARK as well. I must admit I got all giddy - multiple ancient things all in one place... how COOL is that???? Bonane Heritage Park includes a Stone Circle, a Ring Fort, and much more... But that’s not all! Bonane (the area about 6 miles from Kenmare), is a beautiful valley between the peaks of the Caha Mnt. Range, and the scenery is amazing.

So I found the park, parked, and started the ascent. (The little brown sign didn’t tell me that I would be hiking up one of those mountains to see all these wonderfully old things...) I took the wussy trail, which was a bit longer, but didn’t go straight up. The whole park is contained within a mile of trail, and the archeological sites (that’s what the pamphlet called them) are all within a short distance of each other. After I had managed the hike up, the first thing that appeared was an earthen Ring Fort, dating from the early A.D. period. Interestingly, the plaque (see picture) described Famine Era (1847-ish) people going against local folklore and superstition to plant seed potatoes within the ring fort, hoping the blight wouldn’t destroy the crop planted in “virgin soil”.

The next site... TADA!! A Stone Circle dating from about 4000 years ago. This circle makes precise alignments with various points on the astrological calendar, such as the Summer Solstice. It’s mind boggling to think that someone purposely placed the stones as they are, back around 2000 B.C., AND they knew what they were doing, AND they had the ability to get very heavy stones into the correct positions, AND I touched the same stones.

Druids, are made much of around this area, as they are thought to have been the earliest settlers about 6000 years ago. At least that is what the folklore in this area states. :) It is thought that the Stone Circle was erected by Druids, for religious/ceremonial purposes.

There was also a stone in the park called a Bullaun Stone. This was a new one for me, and was interesting. It is a very large stone, with a hollowed out basin (bullaun), usually on the top surface of the stone. However, THIS stone had one large bullaun on its side rather than on the top. Again, it is thought it might have something to do with the ceremonial aspect of the stone circle, as the bullaun faces the stone circle as well as the point of the midwinter rising sun.

This Heritage Park was only recently created and opened. And no, none of the sites in it were transplanted or created - they were already here. There was a pine forest planted in the 1960s, when they were trying to get trees growing on the hillsides again. It was then cut down in the early 2000s to make way for this Park. They have replanted indigenous trees (oak, ash) in hopes of returning the area to its original state.

So having seen all the cool stuff, I started walking down. Imagine my surprise when I saw a car parked just at the base of the circle of sites. As I approached it, I realized it was a local, not a tourist. And then I hoped it was a friendly local, and not Jack the Ripper in Irish form. LOL Not really, I wasn’t afraid at all, I just knew whoever it was must have seen my car and was looking for me.

Then I saw a guy, coming toward me, holding out his hand, and saying that he was the caretaker of the park. All of the typical questions followed, are you alone, where are you from, where are you staying, what do you do over... HA! That last one caught me off guard. His accent was quite thick, and I didn’t catch his meaning at first, but then it dawned on me... what do I do OVER in America. When I said I was a social worker, he made a face. LOL Not sure what he thought but that ended the conversation.

He drove down to the entrance and the car park, and waited for me to walk down. I probably could have asked for a ride, but the sun had come out and it was too nice to ride. So when I got back to the gate, he asked me about my rental car - how much did they charge me, how long had I had it, etc. And I got another grimace when I told him the price. Then he showed me where to sign the guest book and write a comment. He was an odd sort of fellow - nice, but a bit on the... shy let’s say... side. He smiled very widely when I told him he did a great job keeping the place up. He handed me a flier for Molly Gallivan’s Cottage, and told me it was just up the road.

I did end up stopping at Molly’s, and there are a few shots on the album from that vantage point. She was quite a character, from what I was told. Born sometime around the 1830s, widowed with 7 kids, she became the local moonshine supplier. The homemade whiskey (called poitin, made from potatoes or oats) she sold in her illegal pub (Sibheen) kept her and her family alive, along with the farm produce she sold. She died in 1916, and her descendants lived in her cottage until 1997. It is now a museum and for €7.50 ($9.69), you can buy an airplane size bottle of her whiskey. Yeah, THAT didn’t happen. I have to save my money for those $10 pints of ice cream!

About then I decided it was time to turn around and head home. Needless to say, I was still about 8 miles from Glengariff, which was where I should have picked up the Beara Coast Road. Ah well, maybe tomorrow...