Ireland–Saturday, Day 3

When I woke up, sadly, I realized that the news I had read about the mass shooting in Colorado was still true and not a very bad dream. Bear was in a fiery, ready to go mood and got us hustled into the car and out of Cork as quickly as possible. We found a cooperative petrol station with sodas and pastries and we were on our way to the Dingle Peninsula with lots of stops for photos along the way.

I finally convinced Bear to switch out Vangelis for a disc of live Loreena McKennitt tracks which fit the mood perfectly. One of my favorite stories about her is how she didn’t even really connect with Celtic music until she came to visit the UK and had a sort of Road to Damascus experience and became, quote, “a born again Celt at 24”.

We stopped in Dingle itself to look around for a bit and my Mom found a woolen store and got a really beautiful knit wrap there. From there we kept on driving and found our way back around the circuit to the Stonehouse Restaurant which was reported to have some of the best crab and seafood on the peninsula (Bear confirms that there is truth to this).

I had an open-faced melted cheddar cheese sandwich on homemade brown bread which was pretty exceptional and managed to convince the guy at the register that I was at least English if not Irish. (I do this by sticking to about 4 phrases, all of which I can manage in a passable accent, and also by using the Lloyd’s card which wouldn’t be available to a non-resident.)

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this was posted along one of the narrow roads running along the cliffs.

I sort of dozed off between there and Limerick but did wake up in time to help find the Cliffs of Moher. (Part of why I tried to nap was that since Dublin I’d had a very strange problem with an itch in my right nostril — I know that’s not the most tactful thing to say, but it’s like something had put alligator clips on the soft tissue up in my cranial cavity and the itching pain stretched up into my right eye socket. But for some reason, lying down and letting pressure rest against that side of my face made it stop itching, so I tried to doze as much as possible to spare me the weird feeling the rest of the time.)

The Cliffs of Moher are an outstanding natural feature on the western coastline. The view is pretty dramatic and the cliffs and small islands are also home to a number of nesting birds.

Unfortunately, even though there is a colony of Puffins on Goat Island, no puffins were to be seen despite our best efforts and my binoculars.

Bear had been promised puffins and was not pleased to be denied yet again.

The visitor center was very well designed and actually underground so didn’t interfere at all with the landscape. They had a very nice exhibition of information about the wildlife and geological history of the region.

We were off to Galway then for our hotel and dinner which ended up being at an Irish pub downtown where I had a plate of mussels that were in a cream broth to die for.I’m skipping over the bit where we got stuck, literally, down a one way street and Bear couldn’t physically turn the car around and had to drive backwards for over 75 yards, while narrowing missing the cars already parked along the side.

It gets the paws up from Bear

The hotel itself was fine except for the fact that it had no air conditioning or cooling of any kind which led to the windows being open all night. Which would’ve been fine were it not for the Russian tour group which held some kind of parking lot party under our window all night long. The evidence of this to follow in the next installment…

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Ireland–Friday, Day 2

We all woke up early, even before the alarm, and were packed up in record time and having breakfast. I have to say that the Costa we are at was the most beautiful Costa I have every seen in my entire life. Some scones and chocolate twists and pots of tea later, we made it over to the Old Library at Trinity College and were the second ones in line.

It got longer. Trust me.

We took turns looking around the campus while waiting, exploring the quad and some of the sculptures.

We also met a nice couple from a cruise ship that were there as part of a larger group and their son works for Amazon and works for the Romania division (if that’s the right word) and we were in the very first group let in to the library.

They had a very nice exhibition on the Book of Kells with explantory text on the illuminated text. John kept asking questions about things and I remember approximately 17% of what I learned in all those Anglo-Saxon classes so I told him everything I thought I’d learned and I’m sure gave him completely wrong information and everyone else who was eavesdropping, but I think I got the symbolism of the evangelist icons right at least.

We made it into the exhibition rooms with two of the four Kells folios along with the Book of Dimma (two Gospels) and were lucky to get there before most of the rest of the crowd so we had longer to look. (No photos allowed so I stole these off the Internet–at least I’m honest.)

Detail of a page

Full page illumination

Then we toured the Long Room of the library and saw a harp which was billed as the oldest harp as well as some other manuscripts on exhibition.

Back at the public parking, a very nice elderly Irish gentleman asked me if I knew how to pay–he and his wife were stuck at the exit gate and they didn’t know how to use the pay station (or where it was). I showed him and then he didn’t have enough Euros and kept trying to put in pennies when he needed whole Euros. I felt awful for for him and ran back to our car and got out the hidden bag of Euro coins and managed to get his ticket validated.

The occasionally evil car park ticket pay station

At that point he had figured out what was going on and tried to give me a ten note (where was this at the beginning??) but it seemed stupid to take it. Bear and I had just been talking about benevolence the day before and my mysterious email devotional (long story, I started getting this thing and never subscribed to it and it’s eerie how often it’s like God wrote it for exactly what I’m doing that day) had been about how we can help other who are suffering and now little it would take to help bring comfort, but just to wish the person well isn’t enough and doesn’t give the practical love of God. What good would it have done to just show him the instructional panel when what he really needed was help putting the money in?

Anyway, the poor guy was trying to give me the money and I took him back to his car where his wife was waiting and made sure they got through the gate. (I’m not sure how great the guy in the car behind the stuck couple thought I was, but he didn’t yell.)

After getting Dieter full of diesel for the day, we headed out of Dublin and down towards Wicklow, through the national forest and stopped to see waterfalls and the countryside.

Apparently this is where Guinness is grown

We saw a few sheep wandering and as Bear put it, “Wow…they’re not too afraid of cars!”

Bear in the Glendalough glacier valley

Munk Mom admired these flowers so Bear pulled over to get them and they made the rest of the trip through Ireland living in a water bottle in the car.

We found a late lunch in Portlaoise and were really amazed that we could since it was out of usual UK lunch hours. The servers were very nice and kept trying to give us more food but as we had dinner reservations in just a few hours, Bear managed to talk them out of it.

We went to the Rock of Cashel and Bear very cleverly found a way to drive straight up the side of the hill to drop Munk Mom off at the door before we parked in the approved spot at the foot of the hill.

Rock of Cashel

The Rock was originally a castle/fortress which was a seat of power for some of the kings of the region going back tot he 5th century but it was turned over to the church in 1101 and the buildings on it from that point forward are all ecclesiastical.

Chapel with tour guide Claire in the foreground

We took the tour with a very funny guide named Claire who told lots of interesting anecdotes as well as imparting a good overview of the information about when the different structures were put up.

Monument to overweening pride (AKA the mausoleum cross that was so tall that a really good wind blew the top off)

View down to the ruins of the Benedictine (later Cistercian) abbey

The cross of St. Patrick (now in the museum)

We got done with just enough time to drive the hour over to Cork and find the Cafe Paradiso on Lancaster Quay. I had first heard of the restaurant about 5 years ago when my friend Amanda DeWees had given me a copy of one of their cookbooks and I fell in love with it. The chef, Denis Cotter, has a very warm way of writing about food without seeming cheesy at all (although his recipes do feature some amazing cheese), so I’d always thought I’d like to come eat there.

If I had any fears that it wouldn’t live up to my hopes and expectations, those were quickly set to rest. After a gratis tray of olives, cashews and some kind of mysterious sunflower seed/peanut brittle, we got down to questions such as what is a quinoa-haloumi timbale. (Unfortunately my pictures came out a little blurred, but I can’t bear not to see the food again.)

Spring cabbage timbale of roast tomato, grilled haloumi & quinoa with saffron-hazelnut butter, crisped potato and cumin roast carrots

Bear’s choice was sweet chilli-glazed panfried tofu with asian greens in a coconut & lemongrass broth, soba noodles and a gingered aduki bean wonton

Munk Mom had a kind of spinach/Knockalara cheese layered entree with a tomato-cardamom broth and roasted green beans.

Following the amazing entrees, the desserts actually managed to top them somehow (although the coffee was stronger than any of us could handle):

Dark chocolate silk cake with espresso ice cream and a hazelnut tuille

Vanilla pod ice cream, brutti ma buoni, espresso and a shot of frangelico

Bear had wisely booked us in a hotel not far away so we managed to roll ourselves over there. While having WiFi while you travel is really nice and even vital at times, this time what I found on logging in was about the theater massacre in Aurora, Colorado at the premiere of The Dark Knight Rises and it left me very sad for my home country. Since I’ve moved to England I’ve felt very safe and perhaps I’m overly naive at times, but I’ve never once felt unsafe or uneasy in public or thought that I was being threatened. I’ve felt that way probably at least once a month back in Florida and I’m really starting to wonder what’s being done differently in America.

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