Why Ireland?

Gallarus Oratory

All the ways you wander, all the ways you roam
All across great oceans, all across the foam
Through the faraway houses, through the sunsets on fire
Searching for the island of your heart's desire

~ John Spillane, from All the Ways you Wander*

"Why do you keep coming back to Ireland?" asked the young man in the pub.

How do I answer that?

I come back because I am always welcomed like family.

I come back because there is always a new experience and something new to learn about the country and the Irish people.

I come back to visit with the taxi drivers - the most entertaining in the world.

I come back because there is always one or more fortuitous event that makes me continue to believe in magic, the magic that is Ireland.**

The Dingle Peninsula has long been one of my favorite places in Ireland. Dingle is special. I cannot remember how I knew to visit there. It was likely a combination of the cinema*** and my friends in Dublin who, upon returning home from the states, had started to discover and rediscover their homeland.

Whatever the draw, the journey was hard. The weather was dismal. I had little money. But what I saw I loved.

Oh, and I loved Mrs. Farrell. She was my landlady. She tutted and fussed over me as if I was her own. "Oh my. And what a brave girl ye are!" she said. When I left her, in her corner house, she told me I would bring back my husband to meet her. And I did in 1981. And I brought my children in 2007. **** By  that time her children had stopped her B&B. "Of course I remember you!" she said when we came to her door. And she hugged us all.

On this trip I knew I would have to ask. Our first driver was my victim. And he confirmed what I already knew in my heart. Mrs. Farrell had died a year or so before. May she rest in peace. She lives on in my heart.

Immediately after my 1977 stay with Mrs. Farrell I had met Mary Maloney, in Shannon. The manager of a guesthouse, Mary said she had a room for one night only as she was going to be on her holiday and would be traveling to her house in Dingle. At breakfast she told me that I was welcome to return to Dingle as her guest ("Suit yourself," said she). And so I did, portraying a "rich American" interested in purchasing her house. This was a bit of an underhanded way to get her neighbor to make a decision about purchasing the house (they had been discussing it, but there had been no progress towards an offer).

Mary took me on a tour of the entire peninsula. We drove across Conor Pass (the only time I have made that drive). We went to the beach and to the schoolhouse where Ryan's Daughter was filmed. In fact, the film company had rented and stayed in Mary's home. She had photos and autographs and a film script. And she had many a story about the cast. We also went to the Gallarus Oratory.***** For that trip it was my holy grail.

Since the first trip we have experienced magic everywhere - in Dublin, Meath, Wicklow, and Sligo. And on this trip we found magic in Skibbereen, Doolin, Portumna, Birr and Cahir.

Recently a friend told me that there are other places to go, other countries to experience.

"Yes," I said. "I know."

"But why would I want to go anywhere else?"

This is the island of my heart's desire.*

A bird kept coming to the window at Gallarus. I waited until it was calm enough for him to perch.

 Notes:

*John Spillane, All the Ways You Wander, words and music by John Spillane, Universal Music Ireland is the label. The more I read his lyrics the more I admire him. He's a genius, I say.

**http://walkinthepark-padimus.blogspot.com/2014/09/i.html


***Ryan's Daughter (1970), a film I loved for the scenery as much as anything, was filmed there. I suppose it is like young people who travel seeking the P.S. I Love You (2007) bridge in Wicklow (been there too - nothing to write home about, but the hills and gorse and heather!).

****A blizzard kept us away in 1997. We only got as far as Cashel.

***** http://www.voicesfromthedawn.com/gallarus-oratory/


Comment - I am writing these posts as the spirit moves me. Different stories have come together and organized themselves. I can see this will be a long time, writing of the month's walks. 

Stone circles

The ancients left them here. They are mysterious. How were they built? Why? They are just beginning to answer these and questions we don't even know to ask...

Drombeg Stone Circle, County Cork:

Thistles and brambles along the road.

I followed friends.

On a low hill with fields surrounding...

DH walks towards the portal stones.*

These stones are big - weathered - lichen covered.

Fields in the distance.

DH lines up the stones with a cleft in a nearby ridge.

People gather in the circle...

...then they leave.

A small rock outcropping allowed for photos - two Romanians and I waited until all the people walked away.

Another, a closer look.

The honeysuckle was prepared to bloom.

Wildflowers remaining to be identified.** [Navelwort - really, that's the name]

More Navelwort - now that I know, I want to say it over and over.

Navelwort and brambles.

Fuchsia

Kenmare Stone Circle, County Kerry:

We were here in 2007. It was a difficult journey. We finally found our way and saw the circle.

We were surprised to find ourselves in this town again - stopping for lunch. On this day we stepped off the bus into the town square. It was a market day and vendors were lined up. We looked around and saw the sign. Once again we walked down the narrow village road to the field on the edge of town.

The sign.

The circle is big - hard to photograph.

A prayer tree.

Intentions, messages are tied on with string.

We left a prayer.

I kept trying...

Finally.

And another.

Lichen.

Flowers grow at the base.

A cleft in a rock.

People were walking a dog near a stream below the slight hill holding the circle.

Ferns grew near the boundary fence.

Hydrangea marked the gate.

NOTES:

*A propos of nothing, one of the folks traveling with us asked me if I dress him, he's so color-coordinated. I laughed.

**I purchased a book and will return to it.


More on STONE CIRCLES:

Stone circles: http://www.dailykos.com/story/2012/8/5/1116969/-Ancient-Ireland-Stone-Circles

Drombeg (aka The Druid's Altar) is oriented towards the mid-winter solstice. "The stone circle consists of seventeen closely spaced stones spanning 9.3 metres (31 ft) in diameter, of which 13 survive." source - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drombeg_stone_circle
 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Drombeg_Stone_Circle.jpg

It is a recumbent stone circle. Apparently the Irish recumbent stone circles have one recumbent stone (stone lying on its side) with two portal stones opposite the recumbent stone (whereas Scottish recumbent stone circles have two tall stones on each side of the recumbent stone. Thank heavens for Wiki - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stone_circle

Kenmare Stone Circle (aka The Shrubberies) is larger in diameter than Drombeg (56x49 feet) and contains 15 large boulders although the boulders are smaller than those at Drombeg. It is unusual in that it is egg-shaped.  A burial site may be contained in the center. http://www.theringofkerry.com/kenmare-stone-circle

http://irelandsholywells.blogspot.com/2014/01/saint-brigids-well-liscannor-county.html

Finally, a comment:  Upon hearing DH and I visited the Kenmare circle, one of our fellow travelers said, "Seen one stone circle, seen 'em all." Well, that is just not so. And I don't mind revisiting this or other archaeologic/historic sites (as you can see from this trip). A visit to a stone circle or standing stone (or other antiquity) is a sobering thing for me. I am reminded of my mortality as well as my connection with those who came before - creating these and other wonders - and those who are to come. Yeah. That was the thought I suppose I was seeking. We are all connected. I like to be reminded.

Skibbereen and the Great Hunger

Did the old songs taunt or cheer you
And did they still make you cry?
Did you count the months and years
Or did your teardrops quickly dry?

~ from Thousands Are Sailing, written by Phil Chevron*

We started this journey in Skibbereen, a place known for many things - for its music and hospitality - and for the famine - the great hunger,  an Gorta Mór. 

Ireland has slowly disclosed herself to the world over the years.** The great hunger has often been un-emphasized like one of those family skeletons in the closet - "We don't talk about it." But now there has been an interest in and willingness to talk, to research, to write,  and to remember. 

The Skibbereen Heritage Center documents the hunger openly and well.*** We had the opportunity to tour it with Philip O'Regan, one of the authors of Skibbereen: The Famine Story.****

It is a desperate story. It is the story of how and why our ancestors left Ireland to settle in the United States (and elsewhere) in the 1800s. It is the tale of crop failure, mass starvation, dysfunctional and disinterested government, ineffective "solutions," and mass emigration. It is a story of life and death. It is a story well told in Philip's lecture and book and by the heritage center. It is a story quietly and powerfully told by the mass grave in Abbeystrowry Cemetery, where thousands of victims of the hunger rest.

The Skibbereen Heritage Center is located in a modern building immediately adjacent to the old soup kitchen. I urge all those who want to understand a bit about Irish history to take some time in Skibbereen.

Philip O'Regan at The Skibbereen Heritage Center.

Part of the soup kitchen.

Upstairs windows of the soup kitchen.

It is a haunting place.

The soup kitchen has been used for many things over the intervening years. The story is the county council owns it now - we will see what happens next.

My photos of Abbeystrowry Cemetery have mostly gone missing. Let me describe it. The cemetery is on a hillside and an upper and lower road (and then the river beyond) boarder it. The ruins of what may be an old chapel stand. And a large section seems vacant. There are a few markers at the edge of this green expanse, but the greater part is left undisturbed. It is here the remains of thousands of victims of the famine - men, women, and children rest together in what have been described as mass graves or burial pits.*****

Photo by Mike Searle

Photo of ruins in Abbeystrowery Cemetery (from the upper road)

NOTES:

*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thousands_Are_Sailing, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philip_Chevron,
Listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gc1G7aCpSsI

**http://www.skibbheritage.com/

***http://www.skibbheritage.com/

**** http://www.skibbheritage.com/faminestory.htm (available at the heritage center and on Amazon)

*****We were a solemn group. It brought home the tales of locals "Kids would be playing in the cemetery and come home with a bone. They were sticking out of the ground down there."

See also: http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=cr&CRid=2225743 and

http://historicgraves.com/graveyard/abbeystrowry/co-absy

Touring

The internal clock has readjusted. I was up at 6 a.m. to bright sun. We are in Skibbereen* - a stronghold for Irish music. And there will be music tonight.

DH types frantically on his computer behind me. We have connectivity everywhere - some powerful, some meh. Still, it is a long-sight better than traveling with only mail and an occasional (rare and expensive) long distance phone call.**

We are waiting for breakfast...then he will walk me to Mass before we start the "tour" part of the day (Famine Museum,*** Drombeg Stone Circle,**** and a long hike).

We remain undecided about the value of a long tour. One doesn't pick anything except the vague outline of locale (west of Ireland) and subject (folk music). Everything else is a crap shoot (Pardon my language, dear readers. I know there are other descriptors, but this fits best.). So far we have noted pros and cons - mostly "pros." We try to be on good behavior as we don't want to be "cons" for anyone else.

Ferns and "wall flowers" on cemetery wall, Adare, Ireland.

NOTES:

*Yes - Ireland - need I mention my affair once again?
http://walkinthepark-padimus.blogspot.ie/2014/09/i.html

** I forget sometimes the dramatic changes - not just in Ireland, but world-wide - in the last 40 or so years.

***Nothing like the Famine Museum after a big Irish breakfast. But we must fuel for the rest of the day's journey. I won't hike for penance, but will pray hard at Mass and light some candles. God bless, all!

****http://www.megalithicireland.com/Drombeg.htm

PLEASE NOTE - This was the only post I wrote in Ireland. All the rest are written "looking back."

Two were missing, now found...

We arrive earlier and earlier at the park each day in an effort to finish our walk before the temperature  rocketed (out of all reason). [I have also had some "scheduling issues" forcing early mornings.]

Wasting no time today we made our three circuits.

The park cat (THE PARK CAT) ran across the grass at the edge of the picnic area. We haven't seen a park cat in forever! There's something strangely comforting - knowing that there is at least one "wild one" patrolling the area.

Then running man passed by finishing his jog through the park.

It was at the point we "found" the missing cat and man I realized  that they haven't been missing, I have. They are up, out, and into the park at dawn. I arrive a little later.

So I guess I am found now.

Part of our path (down to the river)

(Woods posting)

Magic

June 13, 2016

Our trip is 10 days away, but the magic already seeps across the ocean, through the air or the internet (something I already consider magic).

I've been chatting with an innkeeper we met in 2007. We are invited to see the "castle" dressed in scaffolding. We knew there were no rooms, but it was kind for him to let us know why.

I discovered an arts festival a few miles from one of the towns we had chosen to visit. Tickets have been purchased (through the loony - really, insane - website for the festival). We will attend a play or two and a concert in a cave. I had decided to skip a visit to the cave on this trip as we have done before. They don't allow photos, inter alia. But how often does on have the opportunity to climb down steps and sit huddled with others in a cave chamber listening to music.

Yes, the magic has begun.

The Heron

There's a snag in the river.

On each walk I have noticed the snag and wondered why the flood waters have not carried it away.

I knew the "why" when I saw the heron standing on the snag in the morning sunshine...a gift for us.

Go to the wild, friends. Go to the wild, while you can.

Great blue heron on the Leon River

Stanley the wise...

 Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.

~Roger Caras

Stanley was the wise old man of his pack.

He was a great dog. He was a great friend. And today we had to say goodbye.

Stanley and TDW were lucky to find each other about 16 years ago. They were family. From time to time the family expanded - Hugo and Ruby were rescued. A diverse family, there weren't only people and dogs in this bunch, cats (Josephine and Betty) belonged too.
  

Stanley welcomed my crazy dogs and me for walks and adventures over the past few years. He did so with grace and patience and charm.

How lucky we are to have known and loved Stan. We won't forget him.

Photos here of better days:

Stanley, the wise and noble

TDW, the pack, and friends (roughly R-L: Scruff, Paddy, Ruby, Hugo, Stanley).

Ruby and Stanley

Hugo, Stanley and Ruby about to enjoy the "swimming hole" at the springs.

Rest in peace, Stanley, good and faithful friend.


Final Note:

I searched for some of these photos in old posts. I found a Thanksgiving post that pretty well says it all (and better than I can today - heartbroken today). You may want to check it out too.

 http://walkinthepark-padimus.blogspot.com/2014/11/what-if-thanksgiving-walk-with-dogs.html

I lied. This is the final note - really the final word - from TDW:

"There isn't much I can say to do justice to how special he was other than to say he was a really good dog which is special in a way that people only wish they could be."