A Wee Dram

Reblogged from Rebekah Lyn Books

Our final full day in Ireland dawned gray with a misty rain. Over breakfast we met another pair of women who were on the second half of a whirlwind tour of Scotland and Ireland. We had a nice chat, swapping stories of our adventures thus far, then Tricia and I headed to the bus stop for one last round of sightseeing.

Swords Castle on the way to the bus stop

We’d been told by the B&B owner we could purchase a LEAP card to use on all the public transport at any convenience store. We found one blocks from the bus stop and stopped in to ask about the card. The clerk asked how long we would be using it and when he learned it was only for the day he explained we’d be better off just paying the bus fare.

There were plenty of locals waiting at the stop and one was able to help us out. The bus was quite nice, with comfortable seats, free wi-fi and a cozy temperature. I think I may have fallen asleep for a few minutes because I don’t recall much of the 30-minute ride.

When we got off the bus, we were right by the River Liffey and only a few blocks east of O’Connell Street. We planned to us the Hop On-Hop Off passes we had intended for our first day, so we made our way to the tourist office where the buses started from to get our tickets validated.

Our original plan was to ride the bus through a complete circuit then debark at our points of interest on the next trip around. Unfortunately, there was much more traffic than there had been during our previous trips around town earlier the previous week and the going was slow. When we reached Christ Church Cathedral we decided to get off and start our visits.

Christ Church Cathedral

What a magnificent structure! I can’t imagine what the upkeep costs are for these massive cathedrals. The marble carvings and intricate ironwork is breathtaking. I had wanted to attend a choral program at either Christ Church or St. Patrick’s while we were in Dublin, but that didn’t work out with our delayed arrival. We did, however, get to be a part of noon prayers and the priest recited the Lord’s Prayer in Irish, which was pretty cool. There were also some workers finishing what appeared to be a restoration of some stones in the exterior courtyard and they asked me to help them seat the final stone. That was a cool experience. I wish we’d gotten a picture.

Neighborhood monument

St. Patrick’s Cathedral wasn’t all that far away, however, my sense of direction is terrible and so we ended up going a number of blocks out of the way to find it. This was its own adventure though, taking us into more local streets with fruit stalls and quaint private courtyards. As we wandered I recognized some of the street signs from the Irish Country Doctor books. The main character, Fingal O’Reilly started his career in medicine in Dublin after graduating from Trinity College and served the poor souls of the Liberties, where I now found myself walking. They weren’t as run down now as back in the 1930s, when Fingal’s story was set.

On the walk from Christ Church to St. Patrick’s we must have passed three or four other large churches as well. The good people of Dublin certainly can’t say it’s too far a walk to get to a church!When we reached St. Patrick’s we were struck by the difference in size compared to Christ Church. It’s still a lovely cathedral and has characteristics that make it special in its own way. I was experiencing some back pain so I spent a good bit of time sitting down while Tricia went out to explore here. While I sat staring up at the stone ceiling I marveled how the builders had managed to create such a work of art that has stood the test of time. I couldn’t help but wonder what could cause the stones to be shaken loose, toppling down onto our heads.

From St. Patrick’s we joined the bus tour again, passing the Guinness Storehouse, Kilmainham Jail (another place I had wanted to visit), Phoenix Park, and a number of other sites I would have liked to have taken in. If you want to do the sights of Dublin via the Hop On-Hop Off bus I would recommend at least a 2 day pass. One day simply isn’t enough time when everything closes at 5:00 or 6:00 pm.

When we completed the loop and returned to the starting point, we debarked and crossed the street to the General Post Office. Known as the GPO, this was the site of the Rebellion stronghold during the 1916 Easter Rebellion. The GPO Witness History is an interactive experience that immerses visitors in the events of the Rebellion and was one of my must see destinations on this trip. By this time I had a migraine and my back was hurting, but it was still an interesting experience.

Because the exhibits are interactive, it does take longer to go through, but I was thrilled to see so many people really taking the time to experience everything. In addition to the exhibits, there’s a great 17 minute movie that takes visitors through the week-long struggle using old news footage, animation, a map of the city, and a timeline.

The gift shop has a broad selection of books on the rebellion, its leaders, and woman of the rebellion. I would have liked to have brought them all home, but my suitcase was quite full and my bank account would have been very unhappy so I only purchased two along with an ornament for my Christmas tree.

It was already close to dinner time and we had missed lunch, so we went in search of food. We headed toward the Temple Bar area where Tricia had found Gallagher’s Boxty House on Yelp. The city was much more crowded than the previous week, with St Patrick’s Day just around the corner there were vendors on every street corner with kitchy Irish stuff. We found the restaurant , which was nearly too warm with a fire going, but we were seated right away and the food smelled good. Tricia ordered a Gaelic boxty and I chose a hamburger. The hamburger I ordered was one of the best I’ve ever had.

Gallagher’s Box House
A wee bit of Jameson’s

I don’t drink much, a glass of wine now and then, but I really wanted to have a Jameson’s as that is what the good doctor Fingal O’Reilly always has at the end of a day. I got up the nerve to order it and, while I sipped it throughout the entire meal, I kind of enjoyed it. I doubt I could ever do more than one serving but on occasion in Ireland…

Feeling restored after a good meal, we hit the streets again in search of those final souvenirs we could tuck into the small spaces of our suitcases and give out as gifts to our friends back home. As the rain began to sprinkle again, we made our way back to the bus stop where a long queue was forming. We ended up being some of the last allowed to board the full bus. As much as I wanted to take a short nap, I was anxious to not miss our stop.

Back at the B&B the trial of making everything fit into our suitcases began. The compression bags we had used seemed to have lost some of their compression powers from being opened and closed so many times during the trip. It was close to midnight before we unlocked the puzzle and fit everything in.

Come back next week for a final recap of this memorable adventure.

Round and Round We Go.

Reblogged from Rebekah Lyn’s Kitchen

Before we get back to the Irish adventure, please join me in praying for the people of the Bahamas. The devastation is tragic. I am thankful the storm stayed off shore when it reached Florida. The projections of this storm continuing up the U.S. coast and possibly into the Canadian maritimes as a hurricane is frightening. If you are in the path of Dorian, please take it seriously and stay safe.

The Hill of Tara, much like the Rock of Cashel, has a mythical quality to it in my mind. Both sites are so wrapped in legend and history it is hard to separate the two. I read about both in my teens or early twenties, a time when I was prone to romanticism and their deep ties to ancient lore seeped into my being. So mysterious is the Hill, we nearly missed it.

We exited the motorway and drove for what felt like hours down tiny “local” roads. I caught glimpses of some massive homes, wishing I could take my eyes of the road long enough to appreciate them. I wish we’d kept better track of time because I know we couldn’t have spent as long on this little road as it felt, but the next thing we know the GPS is telling us we have arrived and we are parked in front of a gate that looks like it goes into a private field.

I backed up and turned around, driving up the lane a little ways to a parking area. When we initially passed it we thought it was for a restaurant and couple of shops, but decided to park and see if one of the shop owners could point us in the right direction.

The shop owner assured us we were in the right direction and advised us to walk up the hill to a gate that should be open, but if not we could climb over it. Once we knew where we were going we noticed how obvious it should have been.

A biting wind tore at us as we walked up the hill, increasing in strength the higher we climbed. It’s not a long climb, but I’m sure the wind strengthened at least 5-10 miles per hour from where we started to the top. Gray clouds that had thinly veiled the sun on our drive grew thicker and more menacing.

We reached an old church first and it exuded a creepiness that Edgar Alan Poe would have reveled in. A tall tree, bare of any leaves, held dozens of huge nests with large black birds roosting, their cawing loud as if trying to drown out the roaring wind.

Tree full of creepy birds

I’m not a fan of horror movies but I’ve seen a couple and I could imagine every terrible creature feeling quite at home in the church cemetery. I did wander around to take some photos, but honestly I couldn’t get out of the churchyard fast enough.

Once outside the cemetery wall, we wandered the rolling mounds of the Tara complex. The view from this height is stunning, even on a cloudy evening like ours. It’s said on a clear day, half of Ireland’s counties can be seen from this perch.

View from the Hill of Tara

Some of the mounds had signs telling what ruins had been found below the ground and one was fenced off, I believe for an upcoming archeological dig. In case you’ve never heard about Tara, this was the seat of the high kings of Ireland and legend has it St. Patrick visited here in 433 AD. Going back even further in history, is the “Mound of Hostages”, a passage tomb and the oldest visible monument, which dates back to about 3000 BC.

For a historical fiction account of the era, particularly the triumph of Brian Boru I recommend two books that drew me into the lore of this place, Lion of Ireland and Pride of Lions by Morgan Llywelyn. The links I included above provide more information about the monuments you can now see as well as the history of the area.

We wrapped up our exploration when our fingers were too numb to take pictures and headed to our Bed & Breakfast in Swords. This was supposed to be our last night in Ireland so we had chosen a place a few miles from the airport and were scheduled to return the rental car that evening. It took a little over an hour to reach Swords, but Sibonah (the car GPS) didn’t want to be very helpful when it came to locating the B&B. I don’t know why we had decided to use her rather than one of our phones since she’d been unreliable the few previous times we had used her. All I can think is we were tired.

View from the B&B

We made a couple of circles before reaching the B&B with a tiny driveway. We unloaded our suitcases and hauled them up to the second floor room. The hostess was a bit of an odd duck and was more concerned about a bag bumping the wall than our struggle up the stairs. Her cat was much friendlier, though, and provided a dose of comfort before we steeled our nerves for the drive to the airport car rental return.

This is the point when the wheels nearly fell off the bus. Tricia and I were both tired and we hadn’t had a real meal since breakfast. We were only 3 kilometers from the airport, but it must have taken us half an hour to figure out where the rental return was located. We drove round and round, getting more tense with each circle. Of course there was a ton of traffic also making it even harder to maneuver. I was trying to stay calm but I could feel the frustration rolling off Tricia in the passenger seat. I figured out to pull into a hotel parking lot on the edge of the airport property and sent Tricia in to see if she could get directions but that ended up making her more frustrated.

I sent up a silent prayer for guidance and headed out of the hotel, taking a different exit from the roundabout than we’d taken the other times and it turned out to be correct. It took a couple of minutes to get the car turned in then we were shuttled back to the airport terminal area to wait for a bus. This was the first experience with bus transportation for either of us, not just in Ireland but anywhere in the world.

The B&B owner had given us some directions on how to get to the bus stop near her house and the name of a bus, but she spoke so fast neither one of us was sure we’d gotten the information correct. A lady who worked at the airport joined us at the stop and we asked her about the bus. She was kind and provided us with the information we needed, then made sure we boarded the correct bus when it arrived. We managed to find the correct stop to get off and then had to walk a few blocks back to the house. A light rain had started again and we were thrilled to get back to our room.

Thank goodness for an in-room kettle and several bags of tea. Instead of venturing back out to find dinner, we made tea and finished off the pastries we’d purchased at Lidl early in the day. A cup of hot tea, a hot shower, and a bed have never been so appreciated.

Blossoms and Rain Drops

I could have spent longer exploring the shops of Galway but we were scheduled to meet up with another of Tricia’s friends from Facebook for dinner.

We returned to the B&B and shared some our adventures with our hostess Pauline. The laundry we had left drying that morning was mostly dry by this time and Pauline had even been kind enough to fold them. She truly went above and beyond to help us out of this mess. We left a handful of stubbornly damp items by the fire and went to freshen up before heading to Donnelly’s pub.

Donnelly’s was one of the places recommended to us by the couple we’d met during our delay in Iceland and Pauline had highly recommended it as well. Turns out that Tricia’s friend Clare and her husband George also often stop in here when they are visiting Galway.

We arrived shortly after 7:00 pm with Clare and George only a few minutes behind. An observer would have thought Tricia had known this couple for decades the conversation flowed so quickly upon their arrival. With a very few exceptions, everyone we met in Ireland was warm and friendly. George and Clare were generous, funny, and just lovely to chat with.

We stayed out way too late and by the time we returned to the cottage the wind was howling. I lay in bed listening to it rage against the walls and felt like I was back in Florida during a hurricane.

The morning came and despite the vicious wind, there didn’t appear to be any damage around the cottage. We packed up, something that was becoming a more arduous task as we accumulated souvenirs that hadn’t yet found a home within our suitcases. Pauline was already at work, so after checking several times to make sure we had collected everything we locked up and dropped the keys through the mail slot. (I love that there was a mail slot! I’ve never seen one in real life before.)

In our original plan, this would have been our last day in Ireland so we were headed back toward Dublin. Since we had been able to extend the trip a day to make up for our delay arriving, (if you missed that misadventure click here) we were able to take a more leisurely drive from Galway to Dublin. We decided to stop at Birr Castle, about 90 minutes from the cottage.

The sun was shining, with the ubiquitous clouds so we debated wearing our raincoats, but decided to risk it. At the ticket counter, we learned the castle itself wasn’t open yet for the season, but the grounds were and I really wanted to walk around. I’d seen some of the grounds on Netflix, Tales of Irish Castles, and was looking forward to exploring.

One wing of the tree fort

Just past the welcome center/gift shop, is a large play area for children with a gigantic tree fort. I imagine this place is mobbed with kids in the summers. Since we were the only people around, Tricia and I had to detour through the fort to check it out.

A fine mist began once we left the play area, but quickly turned to a steadier drizzle. We jogged across an open expanse to a small pavilion and caught our first glimpse of the castle; truly an impressive sight. The Parsons family has lived here for more than 400 years! One of the Earls in the 1800s was fascinated with astronomy and had a giant telescope constructed. It remained the largest in the world until 1917.

Leviathan Telescope

When the rain reduced to a light mist again, we ventured from the cover of the pavilion and within an hour the sun was shining again. There are more than 120 acres of gardens to explore, so it could take a person days for a full examination. There are so many picturesque spots that I imagine many of the residents have at least dabbled in painting trying to capture the beauty. A river with rushing rapids nearly kisses the base of the castle wall then makes a stately path through the property.

River past the castle

Despite the chilly weather, there were a number of flowers blooming. I’m enamored with fresh blooms and trying to capture their beauty in photographs so I took more than a few artsy photos here. One area had a walkway of cherry trees which were in bloom. I felt like I was walking into a cotton candy tunnel. I don’t know if a picture could possibly do justice to this area.

At some point my mom texted to tell us to be careful driving as Winter Storm Gareth had moved onshore overnight and was said to be causing flooding. This information helped explain the crazy wind the previous night. The flooding wasn’t surprising either. I believe I mentioned earlier that there had been rain for weeks prior to our arrival as well as pretty much every day of our trip. Most of the rivers, streams and lakes we had passed were exceptionally high, just waiting for one more storm to push them over the banks.

Tricia finally pulled me away from the gardens and we tried to get lunch at The Thatch, a pub a mile or so from the castle. She’d found it on Yelp and was set on having lunch there. When we arrived there wasn’t a single car and I deduced it wasn’t open yet but she insisted we try the door, which of course was locked. We headed for the motorway again, hoping to find another place to eat along the way.

The Thatch

We weren’t too far down the road when we came to a Lidl grocery store. I’d been wanting to visit one since landing in Dublin. I had seen one on a map near our first hotel, but with all of the chaos of our arrival hadn’t even thought to look for it while we were there.

I managed to convince Tricia to stop here and we wandered through. I frequent Aldi in my hometown so was interested to see how the two stores compared. I have to say, the bakery gives Lidl a bit of a boost. We purchased several baked treats for lunch and set off for the Hill of Tara.