Blog 7

Blog 7

“It’s a long, long way to Tipparary,” but ‘tis an even longer way from Powerscourt (eastern Ireland) to Kenmare (southwestern Ireland). We started our day at 8:30 and arrived at 5:30 with two hour long+ stops on the way. Dan is a suburb driver on the wrong (left side) of the road. As the crow flies, the distance does not look far on the map, but since we’re not crows, we have to rely on the GPS, which took us through scenic back roads, where we didn’t see other drivers for miles and miles. The land is basically flat rolling expanses of green fields, with hedge-lined roads shaded by trees.

There are so-called freeways (you pay a toll near Dublin), but most of the roads are 2-lane and often a bit bumpy. Our GPS was evidently created before some of the modern highways. When we got to one of these new roads that “she” didn’t know, she became very frustrated telling us at first that she was “recalculating,” and then saying, make a &*^%$ U-turn, Daniel. At which point, Dan pushed the off button and shut her up. I bet he has fantasies of being able to do the same to me! (joke!!!!)

Our first stop was Killkenny, which has the obligatory castle. It was a glorious, sunny day and we toured the castle grounds and walked a bit of the town. Our second stop was the Rock of Cashel (pronounced like cashew only with “el,”) with one of the oldest and most historic castles in Ireland. It was the seat of the kings of Munster and where St. Patrick baptized the first Christian king of Ireland, King Aengus in 450 C.E. Irish kings fought over the land for hundreds of years until one clever one turned it over to the church. By doing so, he prevented his most powerful enemies from occupying it, while gaining influence with the church. High on a hill surrounded by beautiful green fields are magnificent ruins.

Once again we joined a guided tour. In other countries, when we go on guided tours, the words begin to sound like “blah, blah, blah,” and I begin to tune-out like some ADD school child. The guides in Ireland are so outstanding and use the language so beautifully that my attention never wanders, and I hang on to every word.

The youngest building (1400) is the vicars’ chapel, which housed the minor clerics who lived in relative comfort. The large wall tapestry showing King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba has purposeful errors in it to indicate that only God can make perfection. My favorite story:

The vicars shared a small seal given to them by the archbishop. They used this seal when they went shopping in town. At the end of the month, the bill was sent to the archbishop who paid it……until some of the vicars made a copy of the seal, which they shared with friends and relatives. When the monthly bills started going up, the archbishop found out, and their spending days were over. History’s first instance of credit card fraud!

We had no B & B reservations for the evening figuring that tourism is way down in Ireland. When the first three B & B’s we checked were full, we went to plan B—a more expensive one. Not only did they have rooms, but because of the recession we got an excellent rate, so we decided to stay for 2 nights. We have 2 large rooms plus good-sized bathroom with tub all overlooking the obligatory green expanse of lawn and a small glimpse of a lake. It’s a beautiful, short walk into town, which is charming.

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Blog 6

Blog 6

After exhausting all the 3*** sights within 80 miles of Dublin, we decided to “slum” it and do a 2** excursion west of Dublin—a visit to the National Stud Farm and Japanese Garden of Ireland. Only the Irish would come up with such a curious combination! When we arrived, Dan immediately went to the employment office to offer his services, but he was turned down because of lack of qualifications and no letters of recommendation. (Stud joke over)

We had a tour guide who used all kinds of euphenisms to explain the workings of a stud farm even tho’ no children were present. Mares are in season only 5 days at a time, and will conceive only during the middle three. The owners who pay up to 60,000 euros (currently down to 45,000 because of the economy) for stud services want to make sure they get it right so they use both animal and humans to detect the perfect timing. Evidently there is one horse who gets to “chat” up the mares, and is 100% accurate in determining if they are good to go. When this horse gives the “signal,” the vets come in to do the final analysis (no description as to how they do this). Because the mares can be very aggressive (yes, the mares) the two horses begin their blind date on either side of a padded wooden barrier, which is there to protect the stallion. If the mare rejects her chosen, she will kick out viciously and could possibly damage the stallion’s future service as a stud. When finally they are brought face to face, the mare is fitted with comfy house slippers so if she changes her mind at the last minute and decides to kick, once again the stallion’s jewels are protected. In return, the mare’s mane is covered because in the heat of passion, stallions have a tendency to bite the mare’s mane, and she does not consider this a love bite. While the main event is taking place, each horse has his/her own handler, and the owner watches from a viewing box. All of this is recorded to prove the provenance of any colt born during the process. A recording is also made when the colt is born.

If a colt is not conceived, no payment is due.

The champion studs have many “visitors” a season. If more than one mare is determined ready at any given time, the stallion is required to “cover” her that day. The record for “covering,” was 5 mares in one day with 4 hour rest intervals. All 5 mares became pregnant. Invincible Spirit, (a fitting name) the stud in question, has sired over 21 champions and is insured for 60 million euros, an amount offered by a Saudi prince to purchase the animal, but he was turned down because the owners believed by winning races and with stud services, the horse would earn more than that. In his next life, Dan wants to come back as a champion stud horse.

Each champion stud has his own paddock and separate stall with a skylight. Every stallion thanks that “he” is the top stallion so the horses must be kept separated or they will literally kill each other.

Meanwhile the mares and colts share a pasture with a herd of cows, who evidently are a calming influence on the horses. The cost for a mare/day is only 35 euros. Is there a life lesson in all this? The men are aggressive and need to be kept appeased and separated while the women and children peacefully coexist becoming upset only when the men pester them!

After the studs have finished a season of “covering”

the local mares, they are flown by jumbo jet at a cost of 84,000 euro to Australia where they go on a good will tour visiting the Australian mares.

The stud farm is on a magnificent estate, dating back to the 17^th century, with two major gardens. One is an Irish garden, St. Fiachra’s Garden, with small lakes, wooded paths and two dome shaped monastic cells. One has a glass floor through which it’s possible to see items of Waterford Crystal.

I much preferred the Japanese Garden, celebrating its 100^th birthday this year. We walked on a trail that took us on the 20 stages in the life of man from the cave of birth to the tunnel of ignorance ending at the gateway to eternity. Each stage was represented by a geographical/physical metaphor so for the cave of birth, we actually walked through a cavern and then into a tunnel. It sounds macabre, but it was really quite beautiful with all the trappings (bridge, tea house, stone statues) of a typical Japanese garden.

The whole experience was definitely worth 3***!

Ireland, Blog 5

Ireland, Blog 5

The Gospel according to Saint Rick Steves is our bible in Ireland. We have used him before in our travels; he is concise and accurate. When he notes an attraction as 3***, it IS a 3*** attraction.

Yesterday the Valley of the Boyne was at least a 3*** attraction.

A short ride north of Dublin (about 50 minutes for us) is one of the most historic areas of Ireland. Bru na Boinne, “dwelling place of the Boyne,” also known as Newgrange, is a burial mound. Dating from 3200 BCE, it’s 500 years older than the pyramids. Very little is known, but it was evidently a sacred spot with some kind of sun god. Access is by guided tour only. Located under a 20 ft high igloo shaped dome, bones and ashes were placed under 200,000 tons of stone, which were transported from many miles away probably by river and log rollers. As the sun rose on the Winter Solstice, light crept down a 60 ft passageway and remained for 17 minutes. The guide simulated the effect by turning off the light. Along the walls of the passageway, are prehistoric abstract and geometric paintings. The passageway is very low and very narrow, and I was sure that the man ahead of me, in Ireland

to be part of a heavy weight lifting competition, was going to get stuck. When we emerged, the previously sunny day had changed to showers, which completely annoyed the sheep, cows, and goats in the area. In one voice, they let forth their displeasure with a cacophony of bleats, moos, and baas. When the rain stopped so did their chorus.

Visitors are not allowed to enter the second burial mound at the second site Knouth (rhymes with south), but it is equally fascinating. Much larger in area, it consists of one huge mound, completely encircled with huge decorated boulders, and smaller satellite mounds. We were allowed to climb to the top for a magnificent view of verdant valleys and the river Boyne. In front of the opening is a large phallic stone rough on three sides and completely smooth on the back. It is believed that the smoothness was caused because ancient man rubbed the back to increase their virility. Dan went back a couple of times to make sure he rubbed it correctly!

From there we went to the most famous battle site in Ireland, where the Battle of the Boyne took place in 1690 when William of Orange (Protestant) defeated his uncle/father-in-law James 2 (Catholic). Like many battlefields we’ve visited today it is a lovely expanse of rolling green hills dotted with trees. We lucked out because we visited on a Sunday when they have costumed characters and we made the 3 PM demonstrations of lances and muskets from 1620. Excellent.

Finally, we drove 40 minutes into the thirteenth century to visit the largest Norman castle in Ireland. Once again, Dan and I have visited about a zillion, billion castles in England, Scotland, and Wales, but this one was Irish and wonderful. It exists in a state of ruin with the only modern additions being stairs and handrails. Braveheart was filmed here, and the guide showed us where Mel Gibson was disembowled. I ungenerously said (under my breath) that it was too bad it was a simulation. My favorite castle story (WARNING: GROSS MATERIAL AHEAD) told of the guardroom (toilet) in the lord’s quarters that went many floors below to a cesspool, where a servant had the unique job of keeping it stirred up. Evidently the lord/lady hung their clothes above it because the ammonia fumes killed the lice and fleas!

Off to dinner. Will try to blog about today later. We are leaving this magnificent part of Ireland tomorrow. I don’t know what the internet situation will be, so please send any comments you want now. I love getting them so that I know someone is out there (my 4 devoted fans)

Ireland, Blog 4

Ireland, Blog 4

South of Dublin

As Dan and I travel, we look for business opportunities:

1. Importing vowels to Poland

2. Introducing designer berkahs in Islamic countries (basic black can only go so far)

3. Makeovers for Eastern European women

4. Signs for Ireland

Even with a GPS and Dan’s infallible (?) sense of direction, we have had a tendency to get lost in Ireland—often because of inadequate signage.

We wanted to take the Military Road, over Sally Gap, through the bogs in the Wicklow Mountains. We kept driving and driving looking for all of the above to no avail. Finally I said to Dan, “this looks like a bog.” This was not a stroke of genius: there were no trees although we certainly weren’t above the tree line. The soggy land was covered with low vegetation and lots of crevasses. Finally after miles of driving over very windy, very bad (although very scenic), road we came to a main highway stating, “You are now leaving the Military Road/Sally Gap. We were right where we wanted to be, but without signs we didn’t realize it!

Our final destination was Glendalough and a monastery dating to the early Middle Ages. We joined a guided tour made up of about 30+ people who all belonged to a Catholic church in New Mexico and a family of Israeli Jews. I love interesting juxtapositions!

Actually the Catholics from New Mexico could very probably have converso blood in them! (If you don’t know, ask). When the rest of Europe was living in ignorance, the Irish monks kept learning alive. They had a strong connection to nature, and this setting was magnificent! In the ruins of what had been a cathedral was the tombstone of a man who died in the 18^th century at the age of 106. All I could think of was my mother.

After touring, we took a hike to two lakes through a forest of tall trees and leafy green ferns. Among the many wildflowers in bloom was a very pretty yellow one. When I asked its name at the visitors’ center and learned it was “Irish fleabane,”

I no longer found it so charming.

We spent the evening in a town called Wicklow. On the last Friday of the month (which was the day we were there), they have a night tour of their very famous jail. Actors in costume play various parts: the warden, jailer, matron, and 4 different prisoners. The jail, which existed from about 1702 until the early 20^th century, was completely authentic. We enjoyed a welcoming glass of wine, and then the jailer, in character, escorted us as if we were real prisoners. It sounds hokey, but it was a lot of fun.

I’ll have to tell you about today tomorrow. It is 10 PM, but completely light out.

“In winter I go to bed at night. I dress by yellow candlelight. In summer quite the other way: I have to go to bed by day…” For “in summer,” substitute “in Ireland.” Robert Lewis Stevenson’s “A Child’s Garden of Verses.”

Ireland Blog 3

Ireland, Blog 3

Three adventurous days have passed—no time to write blogs.

We spent a second day in Dublin starting out at the National Museum of Archaeology and History. Dan and I have been to 40 billion history and archaeology museums, but we particularly loved this one and not only because it was free!

The Romans never invaded Ireland (probably the only known country at the time to be exempt). Also because they were isolated by their island status, Ireland developed a culture unlike mainland Europe with only Celtic and Viking influences until the Normans arrived in the twelfth century. Highlights of the museum included an extremely long hollowed out boat, magnificent pieces of golden jewelry, and 4 bodies preserved by the bog because it has no bacteria and no oxygen and, therefore, wood, cloth, and humans will survive in it. One of the best parts of the museum was a guard, Fergal, who became our personal guide. He took us through the Irish treasury telling us stories and explaining details we’d never have known on our own. At the same time, he was hysterically funny. I thought I might be kicked out of the museum for laughing so loudly. I don’t have the words to convey his humor, but I’ll try. A dignitary was visiting from another country.

The dignitary’s bodyguard was glaring at Fergal with disdain. Fergal thought, “I can beat this man at a staring contest.” Then the man opened his coat to show that he had a gun. Fergal grabbed his own balls to show hat he had bigger “guns.” At that point Fergal indicated to the bodyguard that his dignitary had left the room. As the bodyguard began to panic and run, Fergal took a shortcut to the room where he knew the dignitary would be. As the bodyguard tore around the corner, Fergal was calmly standing there looking at his watch and shaking his head. OK—so you had to be there to hear Fergal in person!

After a pub lunch, we walked through a famous park—so famous I can’t remember its name, but it was lovely with flowers, trees, swans, artists, and a large protest parade.

Our final tourist stop was a private library (free), which probably has one of the best collections of religious manuscripts in the world including the very earliest gospels and fragments of Deuteronomy. All major—and not so major religions were represented, and the artwork was magnificent.

We ended up at a well-known tea shop—Queen of Tarts for an afternoon sweet. Dan was the only non “queen” in the restaurant.

It was the Castro area of Dublin where a gay/lesbian parade had just disbanded. As a heterosexual couple, we had to be approved to eat there.

The weather has been gorgeous—high 60’s, low 70’s virtually no rain. More interesting stuff when I get to the countryside.

Ireland Blog 1

Ireland Blog 1

A Day in Dublin—A Night At the Ritz Carlton

Dan and I are in Ireland because we got a package too good to resist: business class air, 7 days in a Ritz Carlton Suite, and a great car with GPS-- all for the cost of less than 2 business class tickets on Air Lingus, whose business class was about ¼ full on our flight over. Great flight—very comfy seats.

The other woman in Dan’s life is his beloved GPS. She can boss him around and he loves her more and more. If I tell him to go right, I get a lecture for “being in control.”

The RC is very ritzy. We have a 4 room suite: a bedroom with an extremely comfortable bed, the usual flat screen TV, and nightstand controls which open curtains, shut lights, etc.

The bathroom is humongous with a spacious tub, 2 sinks, a fabulous separate shower, and, of course, a loo—in its own room. On the mirror is a small flat screen TV!

In addition, there is a large sitting room with sofa, chair, desk, another TV, wet bar. Best of all there is a dressing room about 8 x 8 with wall- to- wall closets, dressers, shelves, and a safe. The indoor pool is spectacular with Swaroski crystal lights in the bottom.

We are in a magnificent area that must give Ireland the nickname of “Emerald Isle”-- near the Wicklow Mountains in the southeast. The RC is in the middle of a large wooded area, separated by gently sloping green lawns. One of the most beautiful gardens in Ireland, Powerscourt, is a 5 -minute walk away. Previously a private estate, both the building and its gardens are now open to the public. We took a one hour stroll around the eclectic gardens which included a formal Italian garden with statues and fountains, a Japanese garden, an area with plants and trees from North American, a multi-colored rose garden fully in bloom, a walled garden, and the largest pet cemetery in Europe with graves of cows and horses as well as dogs!

Last night we drove through parts of the area to the sea, getting lost even with a GPS, but what a wonderful way to get lost! We were on 2 lane roads—more like 1 ½ lanes—with arbors of trees whose branches were barely touching like the fingers of God and Adam in the Sistine Chapel. Rolling green hills were dotted with sheep--- some of them had escaped and were on the road. We had dinner in the town of Bray in a restaurant looking out on a cliff-side walk with white sailboats in the background. Because of the beautiful evening, many locals were out on the walk, and there were even bathers in the sea. This appears to be a very upscale area, and I even heard that Bono (U-2) has one of his many homes nearby.

I don’t want to bore you, so Dublin will be a separate installment.

Ireland, Blog 2

Ireland, Blog 2

We took DART (Dublin Area Rapid Transit) into the city—having a fascinating conversation with a TV drama director en route.

We had breakfast in a famous old restaurant, Brawleys. Dan had his first and possibly last traditional Irish breakfast, because he wasn’t completely sure of the identify of some of the items on his plate. A 5- minute walk took us to Trinity College, where we were introduced to Irish wit and humor by the adorable student guide.

My favorite story was about the head of the college in the early 1900’s, when women were not allowed to attend. Although he said, “Woman would be permitted over his dead body,” the English Parliament voted to admit them in 1904. After saying that he would agree to it with his actions but not with his heart, he put his hand over his heart and died of an attack! When I asked the guide if this was an aprocryphal story (to be checked on Snopes), she insisted it was true. At the end of the tour, we went to an exhibit on the book of Kells, which culminated with a look at the actual document. Even more impressive was the “long hall,” part of the oldest of four libraries at the college. It WAS an extremely impressive “long hall,” but it is basically unusable as a resource for the students. Thousands of books line the shelves not in Dewey Decimal System order, ABC order, or by topic. They are organized by size with the largest on the bottom and the smallest on top. On display is the famous harp, made from beautiful carved willow, (800 AD,) which became the symbol of Ireland

On our way to Dublin Castle, we came across a 3-hour free tour (we tipped generously at the end) outside of City Hall To give you an idea of how bad the job market is in Ireland—our guide was a graduate of Trinity college with a background in computers, linguistics, and German. The group initially was quite large, but less than a third of the way through, the senior citizens dropped out, leaving Dan and me and no one else over 25. The tour was informative and fascinating, and we learned much more than we could have on our own. However, we had to omit a number of places we had planned to visit; but, we will spend another day in Dublin, which is a very easy to see on foot.

2 Observations:

A number of people on finding out that we were Americans asked if we had Irish ancestry. When we said, “no,” they were surprised that we wanted to visit Ireland. I don’t get their reasoning. I’ve visited China and I’m not Chinese (except in name) and Egypt tho’ I’m not Egyptian, and Croatia, with no Croatian heritage—you get the picture.

When we picked up our rental car, I asked the man at the counter how we could be sure that all the dings and torn carpet were noted down. With a grin, he gently said, “Because I’m tellin’ ya.”

I’m “tellin’ ya,” Ireland is a very friendly country.

I asked our afternoon guide, if there was a Jewish synagogue in the area.

He replied, "Why, do you want to go to mass?!!!