ireland and scotland journal

We’re heading home now, so I suppose it’s time for me to reflect on the end of the trip. The last two days were spent on Amy’s isle of Iona. The first thing that struck me was all the barbed wire. If I’m frank, it was quite unfriendly and certainly contributed a “get offa mah propertah” vibe. Narrow paths you could take were closely bordered by long strands of barbs. Fences are one thing but barbed wire has a pretty negative connotation and unfortunately it pervaded a lot of my first impressions of the island. However, hiking out to the west coastline was a highlight of my visit to the island. It was beautiful out there, and there were fewer reminders of what seemed to be the very standoffish local culture. Also entering the Abbey before Historic Scotland arrived and after they left because unlike the “tourist” crowd we were actually spending a couple nights and able to attend services.

Overall I’ve been feeling pretty miserable this last part of the trip, but did my best to not let that stand in the way of experiencing what I came here for. The other big site I didn’t mention was the Culloden Battlefield site in Inverness. This was a phenomenal center which not only told the story of the battle of Culloden but of the entire Jacobite Rising, which I found I was ill-educated on but came out with a well-balanced view of the entire episode. The center takes you from the beginnings and before the Rising through the battle before taking you out onto the battlefields themselves with an extensive audio guide. Then you return to the center to learn the aftermath - most notably the persecution of the Jacobites by Cumberland and his colleagues. This was overall one of the most effective military/political/historical sites at not just having that whiz-bang quality (though it did) but truly getting its educational message across and leaving visitors with substantially increased understanding.

I think some of my highlights of the trip included the Chester Beatty Library in Dublin, an illuminating and far-reaching whisky tasting in Edinburgh (and the beauty of that city), “cliffs of various kinds,” Derry - the wide range of sites we saw there, the incredible hospitality of our B&B in Drogheda, finally finding the Lost Valley, the Orkney Islands (and the great weather we had there), the indescribably amazing seafood dinner we had at Oscar’s in Galway, Guinness, being invited by a local to a tiny local dive pub our first night in Dublin for music in which Amy got to participate, and making Amy happy by returning to her two homes.

We’re on the Isle of Iona, described by George Macleod (founder of the Iona Community) as, “a thin place,” with only a tissue paper between heaven and earth. Another quote inscribed on the wall of the West Range of the Abbey suggests the one who travels to Iona comes not once but three times. This makes my fifth journey here, I believe.

Our first day was wild and rainy and gloomy and brooding. Quite frankly, it brought all my bad memories of Iona pounding back into me. Those of you who know me tend to only hear my best stories and my praises of the place, but those of you who know me REALLY well will have heard me talk about what an intense place it was for me. Because it IS such a thin place, I think it causes you to experience things more deeply, and that certainly includes negative feelings and experiences. As tends to happen, a lot of the sadness, loneliness, fear, homesickness, etc. that I often felt here have been overshadowed by the exuberance, celebrations, friendships, romances, parties, worship services, etc. But like any good pilgrimage or any good journey story, mine had to include darkness as well as light. And boy, was the tempestuous weather yesterday a reminder of that darkness.

And then today happened. I could tell from peeking through the shade of our hostel room window, as soon as I woke up, that there was blue in the sky. I hoped and prayed that it would remain long enough for us to experience at least SOME time on the island with sunshine and its picturesque blue skies. For the most part, it did. There were a few afternoon showers, as I remembered there often being, but the vast majority of our time out and about today was spent under sapphire skies. We explored the Abbey, the Nunnery, St. Oran’s chapel, the Machair, Port Ban, Dun I; and we popped in several shops (almost typed “pooped,” which would have made a much more interesting narrative) and had tea with sweets (scone and brownie) at the Argyll Hotel. Throughout all of this, I was reminded of why I loved and love it here. The lightness in my journey story came flooding back to me. Everywhere I set my foot down, the ground seemed to remember that I’d been there before and then proceeded to remind me of the other feet that had walked there with me. I know George Macleod meant that this place is thin because of our closeness to God here (and I certainly have experienced a lot of that kind of spirituality in my times here), but I have found its thinness in the ghosts of my own times here. I can hear the voices of my friends and see their faces. None of them are far from here, ever.

From a more touristy perspective, it was really cool for me to take in SO MUCH of the island in one day. Working here, previously, I only had such brief snippets of time in which to take in certain activities. It’s been cool to just go anywhere and everywhere I wanted, with very few limitations. Brandon’s been a real sport about that, too.

This is pretty much the last real day of the trip for us. We’ll spend tomorrow making the ferry-bus-ferry-train journey back to Glasgow, then a plane from Glasgow to Dublin, and that will take up most of Saturday. We’ll leave Dublin Sunday morning for our return journey home. Of course, I also feel a bit like I’m leaving my home, too.

have not seen eye to eye the past couple days.

We journeyed to Skye yesterday, and couldn’t see much through the heavy rain and fog. The “Old Man of Storr,” a rock formation, was supposed to be visible from the road. We couldn’t see it, and hiked for 30 minutes up the mountain until we could finally just barely make it out from its own base, veiled in fog. This was typical of the rest of the day: we really couldn’t see much from the road. The rain was torrential, too, not the light drizzle I was expecting from Scotland. And Scotland just had to choose the past couple days to rain - our most outdoorsy days of the trip (except for Dingle Bike Day). In light of the awful weather, the highlight of Skye day for me was the excellent Talisker whisky we sampled at the distillery. Before arriving on Skye (and before the rain became brutal) we did get to see the particularly photogenic Eilean Donan Castle, mostly notable for its picturesque location.

Today was Glencoe. The day started off with blue skies but they quickly receded into a gloomy drizzle - certainly not as bad as yesterday, but it did affect visibility. It wasn’t the weather that has prolonged my beef with Scotland, however. The agenda today was basically to drive through the beautiful glen and the Rannoch moor, then hike up and into the “Lost Valley” where supposedly the MacDonalds hid. Unfortunately, the Scots don’t seem to like labeling or marking in any way their hiking trails. The National Trust, who manages Glencoe, had maps that indicated the existence of many trails including the one to the “hidden” valley. However once you actually get out there, the trails are hard to follow, and not in any way shape or form marked. This, combined with my having instructions from the Internet on how to follow this trail which proved to be factually wrong, meant we went on quite a wild goose chase before finally finding a landmark that could definitively affirm we were on the right path. It was, however, worth it, and though we crossed paths with some other hikers along the way, when I arrived, we were the only ones there, certainly a magical part of some of our experiences lately.

We’re nearing the end of the trip; we have one more day in Inverness, and then we head to the isle of Iona for the last couple days of the trip, which Amy has remarked makes this whole trip essentially a pilgrimage.

Now I have bronchitis; thanks, Scotland.

Yeah, the title says it all.

Our delayed flight made it safely to Inverness, which we’re using as a “base camp” for Isle of Skye, Glencoe, and Culloden battlefield. We’ve knocked out the first two of three. Because I’m so knackered, I’m treating tonight’s post as a kind of bullet-points of various highlights.

Nerves
Yesterday started out rough because there was some miscommunication about where to pick up our rental car. Having to walk an extra several blocks to actually get said car resulted in us missing the tour & tasting we’d booked at Talisker distillery (see more below).

Driving
After finally getting said car, I jumped in the driver’s seat and commenced driving on the left side of the road. Not the most difficult thing ever (as I feared it might be), but it did take some adjusting. Brandon mentioned the narrow roads already. While he was more concerned about side-swiping oncoming traffic (most of the roads we’ve been on are simple 2-lane country roads), I tend to ooch to the left anyway when I drive, so I was more worried about running off the road. We both did quite well, end of the day. We also both had to drive quite a bit on Scotland’s famous one-track roads, where the road is actually only wide enough for one car, so you often have to take advantage of little “passing areas” on the side of the road to allow two cars to negotiate the route.

Talisker
The special tasting we wanted to do at the distillery was not really available because tey were sold out of the 18-year-old and the 25-year-old. We were able to get on a later tour and still try the 10-year-old AND a few other expressions without a problem. The rental car mix-up, while frustrating, did not ruin our day.

Hiking
Our day on Skye ended up including a hike that was not on the itinerary. I tend to dress myself based on the itinerary, so I had dressed myself for a drive and a whisky distillery tour. But we hiked. And got soaked (see below for more info). Today’s itinerary had included a Glencoe hike all along, so I was a little more prepared. The directions we got for the trail were a little vague and outdated, plus there were not trail maps or trail signs. It got off to a rough start. Good views, once we finally figured it out, and I guess I got some extra exercise. I just enjoyed finally being in Glencoe.

Pants
We got so soaked on our unplanned hike on Skye yesterday that we ended up taking our pants off in the car and drying them over the defrost vents in the rental car while we continued our driving tour. I’m not ashamed of myself.

Animals
We saw a few highland cows but not at good places to stop and take photos.
We saw several normal cows walking right on the road we were driving on on Skye.
We saw grouse, including one very sad-looking one that may actually have been mourning the death of its mate (which is what the dead animal in the road right next to it looked like).
We have seen, appropriately, many Scottie dogs and West Highland terriers.
We did NOT see Loch Ness.

That is all I can think of to write about at the moment.

As I mentioned in my last post, our two day stay in Orkney involved me driving a rental car around the islands. Surprisingly, using the left side of the road wasn’t difficult - perhaps because I had “practiced” as a pedestrian for the first two weeks of the trip. What was a bit nerve-wracking was the narrowness of the roads: I felt I barely had enough room to not scrape the side of oncoming traffic in roads with two lanes; other roads were only wide enough for one car, but bared two-way traffic - if you approached an oncoming car, someone would have to either wait at or back into the nearest “passing place” offered (these were frequent and well-labeled).

Amy mentioned the neolithic sites on Orkney (including Orkney’s answer to Stonehenge), which were cool, but I loved its rugged beauty, and the fact that in many cases we were the only people within sight while walking along incredible coastal cliffs. Orkney definitely gets its share of tourists in the summer but I think it is much less spoiled than elsewhere in Scotland. And Keith, we did get Skull Splitter on draft.

We’re in Inverness now, which we’re using as a base camp (three days) for trips to Skye, Glencoe, and Culloden.

How much have I written about Edinburgh? I’m suddenly not remembering. Oh yes, I think I wrote bit. Anyway, it was really good to be back in what I like to call “my city.” I love that place so much. It was a little heart-rending, being reminded of my great times there and being there and NOT calling it “home.” Nevertheless, I’m glad Brandon got to see it, and I’m glad the place has basically not changed much.

After a ceilidh on Friday evening (which I LOOOOVED because I’ve always loved ceilidh dancing and which Brandon was at best interested in but at worst terrified by), we woke up Saturday and flew to Kirkwall, in the Orkney Islands. Orkney has always fascinated me, but I confess I’ve never known much about it and, of course, have never traveled to. I’ll have to say, I’m impressed. There are several sites here which, together, comprise the World Heritage Site called “Heart of Neolithic Orkney.” We visited many of them today, and they’re all standing stones, dwellings, and/or tombs. They’re fascinating! We’ve certainly seen our share of neolithic sites on this trip, but I think there’s something about Orkney’s stark environment that makes these especially haunting and awe-inspiring. The site of Maes Howe might be my favorite, though, because on the interior of it (it’s one of those mound tombs that at on time was beehive shaped but got covered up by a hill of earth over many centuries) is covered in old Viking/Norse runes from a time that those folks took over the site. I loved seeing the combination of the neolithic structure and the writings of a less ancient but still quite distant people. (In case you’re wondering, most of the runes were the Viking equivalent of, “Olaf was here.” There was even one written in riddle that basically said, “The most clever rune-writer in the North wrote these runes.” Nothing mystical or spiritual here.)

Over the past few days, I have been reminded of just how much I love Scotland. I told Brandon I was afraid that, though I’d always loved Scotland, I’d end up loving Ireland more after I traveled there. People generally seem to get more excited about Ireland. A lot of the people we talked to about this specific trip would get very excited about the Ireland half and less so about the Scotland half. I even had a student who said she was interested in studying Celtic music for grad school, but when I offered to tell her more about my experience at Edinburgh, she politely told me that she was only interested in Ireland. Americans are enamored with Ireland: red hair, leprechauns, St. Patrick’s Day, “Danny Boy,” etc. And yes, I loved Ireland. But… I still love Scotland more. My heart just beats better to Scotland’s rhythms. I could write for hours about it.

I may have time to do that, actually. You see, as I’m writing this, we’re delayed at the Kirkwall airport. The Kirkwall airport, which is smaller than the Lexington, Virginia, Kroger. One plane was supposed to take passengers from here to Shetland, then return back here and load us (and others) up for Inverness, our next destination. That plane is out of commission for the night due to technical problems, so we’re waiting to find out if another plane will be able to take us. If not… we’ll have to practice our flexibility.

*CROSSING FINGERS*

This morning we learned the news of Scotland’s 55-45 vote to stay in the United Kingdom. I have to admit my heart was sad at this news, but intellectually I think this is probably the right choice for the country, and more importantly, it is what the people of Scotland chose with an incredible turnout of almost all their registered voters. The debate from our perspective seemed remarkably civil and impressively informed.

Today, our last day in Edinburgh, we saw Stirling Castle (my favorite castle of our entire trip) and ceilidh danced. Yesterday, we toured
the Royal Mile, the highlight of which was a whisky tasting where I got to sample many whiskies I could never get in the States including some that are never exported out of Scotland. I of course purchased a couple bottles - my most expensive souvenirs of the trip.

Tomorrow we fly to Orkney, where I will be renting a car and for the first time driving on the left side of the road.

Wow. I can’t believe I’m back here! I love this city so much. It was a dear home to me for a brief time, and I’ll always feel at home here.

As usual at the end of a day of traveling, I’m exhausted and don’t want to write a lot. I will say, though, that I’ve seen some pretty fun touristy stuff here that I never took advantage of while I was actually living here. I think one of my favorites of those was actually going INSIDE the Sir Walter Scott Monument, with its breathtaking views and interesting Neo-Gothic designs. I also liked the inside of Scottish Parliament Building and, of course, the Castle, one of my favorite sites in general. The Royal Yacht Brittania was cool, but it’s very “British” and just happens to be located in Scotland.

I LOVED getting to see some old friends last night, especially in light of tonight’s big referendum vote. I didn’t want to push the subject, but they all seemed eager to talk about it, which was especially interesting because several of them didn’t know each other before last night. I was impressed how civil everyone was about it, and I learned a LOT about average, everyday, young Scottish adults feel about this whole event. I feel we are truly lucky to be here at such a historical time (which it will be, I believe, regardless of the results).

Tomorrow is Stirling Castle and then a Burns-style supper and ceilidh back in Edinburgh in the evening. Which means I need sleep. And when we wake up… WE’LL KNOW.

Despite its best efforts, Belfast is still most identified by its troubled history. Here is the wall Amy mentioned. It’s called the “peace wall,” I guess because the only way there can be any peace between the Catholics and Protestants is if they stay the hell away from one another; it’s incredibly tall and encircled with barbed wire and spikes to keep the Catholics out of the Protestant area and vice versa. Of course, as Amy mentions, the wounds are healing, and there are many notes of genuine desire for peace written all over parts of the wall. People pass through the gate casually now and the mood was relaxed. I wonder if Scotland’s upcoming vote on whether or not it desires to secede from the UK will re-ignite any desire on the part of nationalist Northern Irish to join the Irish State.

We flew this morning from Belfast to Edinburgh, where indeed we saw much evidence of the upcoming referendum on Scottish independence. We visited some of the tourist sites, including the Royal Yacht Britannia (which was most interesting to me to get a dose of the ongoing opulence of the royal family) and Sara, we ate at Howie’s (the highlight of which for me was the cullen skink with incredible mackerel). This evening we went out for drinks with some of Amy’s friends who she met during her time in Edinburgh. Overall a great and well-rounded day. We spend three nights in Edinburgh - including the day of the referendum (tomorrow) and the day the results are announced (the following day).

Since arriving in Belfast, we have learned a lot about the so-called “Troubles” of Ireland’s past. The divisions between Catholics (typically pro-”Republic”/independent Ireland) and Protestants (typically pro-Union/Crown) have existed actually for a very long time and were evidenced in segregation, discrimination, the formation of such groups as the IRA, and, of course, violence in many forms. There’s a large wall in a section of Belfast that was erected by people to basically keep Protestants and Catholics separate. Derry was at the heart of a lot of the Troubles and was the where a temporary “Free Derry” locale opened up that claimed complete autonomy from Britain. It was also the site of the Bloody Sunday raid, when the British army had come in to replace the local police and opened fire on a group of civil rights protestors. In Derry, we saw several murals that have been painted as a response to the violence in this area and visited two museums that gave varying perspectives on the Troubles.

It’s hard not to form an opinion of one’s own when traveling around here. But it’s a little easier to take your time in forming that opinion when you see how strong an effort there is to unite people in peace. I think that’s my personal biggest takeaway from it: praying for vision, courage, humility, forgiveness, and peace for ALL involved. It’s so, so sad and hurtful to think about how these divisions came about from — or at least are masked by — beliefs in the same God.

An interesting, and perhaps less sober, angle on all this for me (selfishly) was learning that the Scottish Presbyterians who settled in Ulster (Northern Ireland) way back in the day were about as persecuted as the Catholics. A lot of them got the heck out of Dodge when certain ordinances made it more difficult for anyone but wealthy Anglicans to own land and hold office; that’s when they set sail for places like America. It’s really cool to think that maybe some of my ancestors came from that wave of “Ulster Scots” and to think that, if they did, I may have walked on some of the land they once walked on.

Aside from all this side of history, we learned, as Brandon shared, about the Titanic’s tender ship, Nomadic. It was really cool to see a lot of the features that would have been seen on Titanic and to learn about the tender ship’s colorful past. Today we visited the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum. The transport part had LOADS of old trains and buses that you can climb around on and in; SO FREAKIN COOL!!! The folk was also awesome; a lot of Colonial Williamsburg/Jamestown/Yorktown, only with fewer shops and cafes. It was a “living history” kind of place with restored buildings, animals, a blacksmith’s forge, a basket weaver, people in costumes, etc. It was really fun.

A few little side notes here about some “troubles” of my own:

1. I lost Seymour. Now, I don’t believe I’ve put any Seymour photos on the blog, but I’ve begun to gradually load a few onto Facebook. Seymour is our little stuffed eagle (we left the usual trip bunny at home by accident) that gets inserted into some of our more touristy photo ops. It is my job to carry around Seymour and cleverly pose him in museum, geographical features, restaurants, etc. And when we were getting ready for bed on Sunday night, I realized that he was gone. My first thought was that I’d left him in the Crown Liquor Saloon or the Spar shop where we’d bought groceries, so I called both. No luck at Spar. When I called the Crown, I had to get transferred to the bar telephone line, where I was politely informed that a small stuffed eagle had indeed been found. We threw on shoes and jackets and immediately went to Seymour’s rescue. The Crown Liquor Saloon provided not only excellent beer but excellent eagle protection and human customer service.

2. I lost my wallet. Now, when I travel, I have a special RFID-blocking wallet for my passport and backup credit cards, and I carry a little change purse for my cash and bank card. It was the latter that was lost. I discovered it was missing when we arrived at the Nomadic at about 4:30 yesterday, after having traveled to Derry and back. By the time we finished our ship tour, every place I could have possibly left the darn thing was closed, so I just sweated it out throughout the tour, throughout dinner, throughout the first part of the day today… My top options for places I might have left it were a cafe in Derry’s illustrious Guildhall, the bathroom of St. Columb’s Cathedral in Derry, and the bus we took back to Belfast. I called the bus company first. No report of it, but they took down information and said to check back in again later. Next, I hunted down the cafe’s number and rang them up. THEY HAD IT!!! The gal I talked to was super nice and said she’d tried to find me on Facebook and send me a message about my missing change purse. I asked if they’d be able to post it to our hostel in Edinburgh, and she said that if they posted it first class, it should get there (I’ll be paying for that, I’m sure, but no biggie). Again, nice cup of tea, very helpful and wonderful customer service.

3. Nothing “troubling” at all, just… different. We stopped in at an “honesty box” cafe today, where you pay what you can or what you want. The menu is simply but delicious, and the place is covered in placards about local history (mostly Titanic-related, since it’s right on the docks in the “Titanic Quarter”) and art by local artists. There’s also a “prayer garden” in the back corner of the relatively large cafe, where people can write prayer requests on Post-Its. The Post-Its are put on a prayer wall or attached to a tree in the middle of te “garden,” and little round stickers are on some of them, indicating that the prayer team has already prayed for them. There is also a little teapot, where you’re encourage to write the name of someone you have a hard time forgiving on a slip of paper, put it in the teapot, and be reminded to foster a spirit of hospitality toward that person. Finally, there is a prayer journal, for longer prayers, which will also be read and prayed by the members of the prayer team. I was so inspired by this whole cafe: its financial accessibility for anyone who walks in, its quiet way of reaching out to people spiritually who may only be comfortable with something simple like that, its spirit of overall welcome and care for the community. After the stress of losing Seymour and my wallet, in addition to my exhaustion from all the walking we’ve done, this place was a little oasis for me. And as a final thought, it was a great reminder for me of people in Belfast are slowly, patiently working towards a place of healing and peace, even in little places like cafes.

Yesterday, we completed the last of our “tour bus days,” to the Antrim Coast of Northern Ireland. Though our driver was a bit senile, we did have enjoyable stops at each of the venues on the agenda: a castle, a rope bridge out to an island with a dramatic coast, Old Bushmills Distillery (where we were fortunate enough to be able to sample their incredible 21-year-old single malt), and the Giants Causeway with its Q-bert mosaic. The day prior we spent in Drogheda, the highlight of which for me was the very Mario World-esque tombs of Knowth.

We’re in Belfast now, with three days and four nights here. We just returned from touring the SS Nomadic, the tender ship for the Titanic (a tender ship takes passengers out to the big liners at ports that don’t have large enough docks to accommodate them). Belfast’s confused identity (because of it being most renowned for its violent and sectarian past) led it to embrace its role in building the Titanic as its biggest tourist draw; there are several renowned sites devoted to the Titanic; the Nomadic is the original ship that tendered to the Titanic and the only White Star Line ship still in existence. It was pretty cool; we’ll be seeing more of the Titanic tomorrow. But what I really enjoyed was my favorite pub of the trip thus far: Belfast’s Crown Liquor Saloon, just absolutely gorgeous inside and filled to the brim with private “snugs,” not to mention the most-decidedly above-average selection of draft beer.

As to Belfast’s history, it’s really the history of Northern Ireland and the sectarian fighting known as the Troubles which has its roots in the colonial past of Ulster (the province of Ireland that comprises Northern Ireland). We visited Derry (the best walled city in Europe) and got a healthy dose of this through its museums and murals. The Troubles were so intense in Derry that the nationalists declared themselves a free state; the cornerstone of “Free Derry” still stands as one of the most iconic murals in Derry, and as you can see, it was updated recently to reflect current events. We plan to visit some of the murals in Belfast tomorrow; though Belfast has tried hard to define itself by the Titanic, I think truly its most iconic imagery is in its sectarian murals as like it or not, the biggest chapter in Belfast’s history is the Troubles. Tomorrow is our last day in Belfast, Northern Ireland, and the island of Ireland. We’ll be flying the following morning to Scotland, where we spend the latter half of our trip.

Hahahaha! I just wanted to write that title. But seriously, we saw a lot of cliffs, most of which Brandon has spoken about already. The first cliffs were on Inishmore, called Dun Aenghus. I didn’t realize I had vertigo in any form whatsoever, but I apparently do. Of course, I think just about anyone would, approaching cliffs that drop off in a 90-degree angle down about… 100 meters(?) straight into the sea. Anyway, it was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

The next day’s cliffs were the iconic Cliffs of Moher. As Brandon said, we visited them as part of a very “tour guide-y” day, but we were lucky to have a decent amount of time there. I was just as scared and just as awe-struck here as the day before. Probably more so, simply because of the magnitude of these bad boys. A nice little part of the day for me was nestling into a very grassy spot near the edge of one of the cliffs and singing the Taize chant, “Confitemini Domino.” I had a little prayer time up there; it seemed fitting.

Speaking of religious stuff, back on Inishmore day, we stopped at a site that had, like, seven separate church ruins. I was able to climb the wall of one of the more secluded ones, and I believe I was the only person in that particular wave of tourists who ventured that far. All around these particular ruins were smooth, round stones piled up in little “monuments,” presumably of people who’d made the same effort. I made my contribution and spent some time praying.

There have been a lot of opportunities to find God on this trip so far. Especially in the places that have been frozen in time; it seems a little easier to put aside distractions and find what ancient people might have found there, in a spiritual sense. It really brings to mind the idea of “thin places,” where heaven and earth seem closer together. I like thinking that those places have always been that way and will continue to be.

(Some other examples are some of the neolithic sites we’ve seen, including today’s Bru-na-Boyne near Drogheda. Also the interesting “fairy forts” or “ring forts” that remained intact through centuries because of people’s superstitions about fairies and leprechauns.)

Not every place on the trip, however, has been so profound, moving, awe-inspiring, etc. I’ve noticed that there are some interesting trends in the personalities of people here: loud children, loud drunk adults, CHEWING GUM STUCK EVERYWHERE WHAT IS THIS THE BOTTOM OF A FOURTH GRADE DESK, trailer parks, etc. I have had my comfort zone challenged. I’ve ALSO had it challenged vis-a-vis all the day tour stuff; tourists, in droves, are annoying. And pushy. It was so hard for me to

Well, we’re in Belfast now. Have just wandered around a bit to find working ATMs (harder than you may think) and to stock up on cooking-dinner-in-the-hostel groceries, but I still like the vibe so far. Selfishly, I think it’s because it has reminded me a bit of Edinburgh.

Umm… Oh yeah. Well, this isn’t exciting, but I’m mentioning it. These day tours were all on buses, and I’m prone to carsickness. Add that to the cold I’ve contracted and the general “stop being so loud and pushy, Italian tourists,” and I had to work very hard at not being grumpy. I’m trying to be a trooper. On a related note, I’m going to try to go to church somewhere in Belfast tomorrow.

The last two days were guided, all-day tours, two of the three such days we have planned on this trip (the third and last will be the day after tomorrow - then the rest of the trip including all of Scotland is entirely on our own). Though it can sometimes be a bit of a drag having someone else dictate your agenda for the day, it was a nice break after the day prior, aka Slea Head Drive bicycle day, which Amy mentioned. Even though I consider myself a decent biker, I still felt an incredible sense of accomplishment after completing the loop; I think the most satisfying part of that day was the journey itself.

Dingle itself (which we toured the day before) was an extremely touristy town, not unlike Hoi An in Vietnam but without its surreal charm. Dingle was cute, but it was a town built up on the tourist industry and it felt ingenuine because of it. Though I did really like a lot of the pubs - which either were hybrids with a tradesman shop (leather, hardware) or featured live traditional music, they were filled with tourists; I certainly felt there were more tourists than locals everywhere. Nonetheless, we saw some good sites and it was a good base to visit the rest of the Peninsula.

As I mentioned, the following two days were tour bus tours. The first was of Inishmore, one of the Aran Islands, led by a native to Inishmore whose family goes back several generations; the permanent population is only about 800 so this means he knew everyone and everything on the island. He was a fantastic guide and beyond the dramatic cliffs on Dun Aenghus fort, his commentary was the highlight of the day.

The base for both of these tour bus tours was Galway, also the site of a friendly B&B accommodation where we had phenomal breakfasts - and my first “Irish Fry” aka full Irish breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon, tomato, and blackpudding (made of pig’s blood). After returning from Inishmore, we had what can only be described as a sublime seafood dinner at Oscar’s Bistro. Galway Bay oysters and incredibly fresh salmon (which literally melted in my mouth) and monkfish (with chorizo) were perhaps the finest seafood I have ever tasted.

Today was County Clare day. While on Inishmore, we had plenty of time to explore the various sites; on the County Clare tour (with a Galway-based company), I definitely felt herded from site to site, with only about 15 minutes at each. Certainly the highlight was the iconic Cliffs of Moher - the only site at which we had more than 15 minutes (and thankfully, it was 90 minutes) - which, honestly, I wasn’t expecting to be overwhelmingly impressed with until I arrived. I was blown away, and I could have spent hours there. Though the authorities have erected barriers to try and keep folks away from the sheer precipices of the cliffs, everyone ignores them, and walk right up to the edge; dangling my feet off the edge was particularly memorable. Walking on the moonlike Burren landscape was also memorable.

We’re now on a train to Drogheda. Tomorrow in Drogheda will be our final day in the Republic of Ireland, though we’ll spend the following few in Northern Ireland, which is part of the United Kingdom.

Greetings from a Bus Eireann (Ireland Bus) bus! Actually, the wi-fi isn’t working right now, so this may get officially posted later. But it is being typed on a bus. On my laptop, I mean. Which is on the bus.

Yesterday, Brandon and I journeyed from Dublin all the way to the Dingle peninsula. If you by chance have seen either the movie Ryan’s Daughter or Far and Away, you’ll have seen parts of the Dingle peninsula, since both movies were filmed here. And you’ll be reminded of the fact frequently.

Our first day was fairly laid-back: we did a self-guided (that is, read-from-a-guide-book) walking tour, the highlight of which was the Center for Irish Culture and Spirituality. This is actually a nunnery that houses several significant works of art. There are several frescoes done in the old Italian style, and one of them is of the Last Supper. It was intended to highlight several local features: views of the mountains and Brandon Bay (named for St. Brendan) outside the window, glass for the supper based on glass from a local artisan, and all the models for the disciples were local guys the artist found around town. The real reason for stopping at this nunnery, though, is the chapel: there are six stained glass windows made by renowned Irish stained glass artist Howard Clarke. I was… stunned. I’ve always enjoyed stained glass, but I’ve never really been moved by it. I could have stayed in that chapel for hours, just studying the AMAZINGLY intricate details in each pane. Clarke’s use of color for all the characters and the way he represented textures were astounding. The scenes he chose were: the gift of the Magi, the baptism of Jesus, Jesus encourages the little children to come to him, the Sermon on the Mount, the agony in the garden, and Jesus appearing to Mary Magdalene. Hopefully, Brandon will have photos of these to post soon. Words can only do so much justice.

After a long walk along the bay (and unsuccessful attempt to see the local mascot, a dolphin) and a simple dinner at the hostel, we set out for our own little pub crawl. The first two stops were pubs that double (or at least used to double) as shops: the first a cobbler, the second a hardware store. Both were very laid back and attracted at least as many locals as tourists. The second two pubs were featuring “trad,” or traditional Irish music. This is hugely popular with tourists, and many pubs on Dingle offer evenings of music. We heard a great variety of lively jigs and heart-breaking ballads, all played on an array of instruments. It was easy to see how this music can speak to so many people because it captures some of the quintessential ingredients of what make us human: laughter, loss, hope, remembrance…

Today’s Dingle experience took us out of the village and into the wild a bit. Quite frankly, this was the day of the trip I was dreading the most because I knew, from the start, that we would be biking a 20- to 30-mile loop around the peninsula, and I’m not a great cyclist. To be perfectly honest, it was not easy. Actually, I take that back: as I had expected, it was fairly easy at first, but the last… I don’t know, one-third of the journey was really hard, mostly just from a stamina perspective. I just wasn’t used to riding that much: energy, soreness, etc. There were certainly some amazing views – some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen in my whole life – but, like the wine poured out at a Seder, the joy was tempered with sorrow (“sorrow” here meaning “sore butt and legs and all-around exhaustion”). There was some additional tension of needing to be back in the village for our 1600 bus, so we couldn’t take too leisurely of a pace.

Anyway, I could tell you some of the details, or at least highlights, of the cool historical things we saw, but I may let Brandon take that on. Instead, I just want to try to convey how breathtaking the scenery was. The only other waters I’ve seen with this much blue and teal and emerald green were around Iona, a place that of course remains deeply imprinted within me. There were times when we were riding along cliffs, and I guess I was a little scared about the possible danger, but I mostly just felt like I was on top of the world. The hills were verdant, like all the poems and songs say, but when I learned that so much of the land was abandoned during the potato famine, it’s harder to look at the land and truly love it; in a way, it turned its back on the people. There were sheep and cows and tourists and locals and ruins of past peoples everywhere. Typically, I am fascinated by people and the story of the people that have lived and breathed in a place, and been born there and grown there, and worked and prayed and sung there, and left there and stayed there, and died there and died far away but wanting to be laid to rest there. Typically, that’s what I see and hear and feel in a place.

But not today. Maybe it’s because this was some kind of “personal best” journey, a weird little day-long pilgrimage for me, but all I could think about was me in that place and the wildness of experiencing it on my own. (That might also be because Brandon rides a lot faster than me, so it was easier for him to go on ahead and meet me at the next landmark.) This magical place that shines like jewels and captures the imagination existed just for me today. I almost felt like Christ in the desert, being shown the whole world and asked if he wanted. I felt like I was being shown the world. (Granted, the stakes weren’t so high for me: just get back and get your bus in time.) And seeing it was not easy. I had to work for it. I took a wrong turn once and got lost and scared. I caused us to miss a turn toward the end of the day that made us then retrace our steps up a huge hill and even call a taxi in a panic, thinking we’d miss that bus. But I also felt exhilaration. How can you not when you’re coasting down a hill on a bike, wind whipping your braids around, sun warming your face, blue sky and blue water and green grass and red fuchsia and bleating sheep, all shouting “Gloria!” with you?

The taxi driver found us and told us we could make it into town in time for our bus. We still paid him 10 Euro for his trouble, and we embarked on the last leg of the ride. It was relatively easy, and we made it back in time to return our bikes, grab our luggage, and even pick up a Ribena at the SuperValu. Which means: I DID IT. Goal accomplished.

Might try to take a wee nap on the bus. Very talkative passengers, but I can usually tune folks out as needed (especially when I’ve ridden 20 miles on a bike, which I of course regularly do).

Here are some of the photos I promised:
bog body from the archaeology museum
the Swiss Cottage, near Cahir
the view from the Rock of Cashel
beer flight from Porterhouse craft brewery in Dublin

I hope to include photos with future posts; more to come from Dingle.

So, we’re in Ireland. As I’m sure Brandon mentioned, we had some difficulties the first day or so, mostly due to the fact that our luggage did not arrive with us. I only had shorts and a light jacket, so I broke down and bought my requisite Irish wool sweater and crazy striped wool socks. We had many contingency plans in place for all the replacement clothes and other things we’d have to buy if our luggage got hopelessly lost, but it was waiting for us in the reception area of the hostel by the time we returned on our second evening. We also ran into some bus-related glitches, which cost of a few Euro, but none of this was so bad to take away from our enjoyment of the first couple of days.

Which brings me to, what did we do our first couple of days? First day was jam-packed and included the Guinness Storehouse, a museum trip, a meet-and-greet with a native Dubliner, a redonkulous trapped-in-a-room game, and a very un-touristy evening of music in the pub. Guinness was way more fun than I thought it would be, and we both learned that fresh-off-the-line Guinness on tap is THE BEST AND POSSIBLY ONLY WAY TO DRINK GUINNESS EVER!!! Oh man. It was transcendent. None of this “drinking a loaf of bread” crap. It was more like… I don’t even know. Just damn good beer.

That evening we went to this thing called… Escape? Xit Game? I don’t remember. It was out in the middle of a huge industrial park, and in getting there, I thought I might have been walking into a trap where I would be kidnapped and beaten and forced to eat soggy cereal or something. But I wasn’t. It was this fun kind of game where you’re locked in a room (either with a person or a group of people), with locks on the inside, and all the keys and combinations to the locks that you need are in the room. The trick is, they’re hidden, or you have to decipher clues. We needed two keys and five letters/numbers to get out, and we got everything but one of the numbers. It was still fun, though!

Afterwards, though we were jet-lagged and exhausted as all getout, we still went out to a pub, which was featuring live music by locals. Our meet-and-greet friend from earlier in the day, named Mark, had told us about it because his girlfriend was one of the musicians. He said, “I guarantee, you’ll be the only tourists there.” We were sold. It was great little shabby pub, and the music was pretty awesome. Very casual, but everyone was good. I even got in on some of the fun and sang some American tunes! It was a really fantastic evening.

The next day (yesterday), we ventured out of the city and saw two castles, as well as a “Swiss” cottage that some Irish nobles had built to pretend they were peasants (a la Marie Antoinette). It was a leisurely paced day, and I particularly enjoyed the countryside views and my newly acquired woollen articles of clothing.

Today was another jam-packed touristy day, with a visit to Kilmainham Gaol, Trinity College for the Book of Kells, the Dublin Castle, and the Chester Beatty Library. The jail was interesting enough, mostly for all the Irish history we learned.

Trinity College was quite remarkable; we had an excellent tour guide, and the whole exhibit surrounding the Book of Kells was very well done. Of course, I have a soft spot in my heart for those particular copies of the Gospels, given their close connections to a certain St. Colum Cille (AKA Columba, AKA founder of the monastery on the Isle of Iona). Our tour guide and I had a nice chat about Columba’s escape from Ireland, and I learned that it was most likely his temper and penchant for debate that got him into some clan-related troubles. Fascinating. I loved reading about the processes of making the papers and especially the inks for all the illuminations, and I enjoyed learning about other illuminated texts from that time. Seeing the actual pages from the book would have been an incredible experience, had there not been such a high concentration of pushy, impatient people crowded around the relatively small glass case. I was so concerned with waiting my turn and counting off what few precious seconds I had to lean down and get a good long look that I don’t even remember which pages they had on display for us to see. I really was not able to drink it in the way I would have liked, but it was still very impressive.

Unlike the Dublin Castle, which was remarkably UN-impressive and was the site of some of THE WORST treatment of food service employees by a customer that I have seen in a good long while. (That customer was a local, an employee elsewhere in the castle.) One of the worst tea breaks I’ve ever had.

Incredibly impressive, though, was the Chester Beatty Library. One gallery was full of illuminated religious texts and other examples of religious illustrations; the other was on the history and art of bookbinding, printing, etc. It was an impressive collection for its intake of artifacts from a variety of cultures, not to mention its breathtaking vastness. I was inspired by a lot of the religious works (and not just the Christian ones!), and I was truly in awe of some of the artwork and techniques we saw.

A final note as our time in Dublin concludes: SO. MUCH. BEER. It’s really not a stereotype. There are pubs everywhere, and many of them have incredible Irish beer selections. We have not shied away from trying them.

Unfortunately I’m having some trouble uploading photos from this wifi but I hope to be able to upload some from the next town. I hope to include the following photos in an upcoming post: a “bog body” from Dublin’s archaeology museum, the view from the Rock of Cashel, the Swiss Cottage, and a flight of local craft beer.

Today, our last day in Dublin, included some history of Dublin’s role in many of Ireland’s conflicts internal and external through an excellent guided tour of Kilmainham Gaol. The highlight of the day however was the Chester Beatty Library. This is one of the best museums I have seen anywhere in the world. Chester Beatty, an American expat, is essentially an obsessive collector. This museum easily could have been tackled as a dumping ground for his extensive accumulation of “Stuff.” However, it was incredibly restrained, maintaining a laser sighted focus on one major aspect of his collection: the history of books, particularly religious texts from Christian, Muslim, and East-Asian religions. The collection of old illuminated texts, old scriptures, bindings, etc was incredible and the museum curators also did a fantastic job researching in order to present everything from an academic perspective. I’m sure Beatty was interested in knowing as much as he could about what he was collecting but I certainly got the sense that he wouldn’t have had the breadth of knowledge evidently held by the museum curators. This was a truly memorable museum.

We’re getting ready to prepare dinner soon; tomorrow we take a train west; we’ll be spending the next two days in Dingle. I’ve enjoyed Dublin but it’s felt a lot like home; I’m looking forward to getting more out into the Irish countryside. I’m hoping from there I’ll be able to include photos as part of these posts. Keep an eye open for Amy’s thoughts on our three days in Dublin as well! Slainte!

It would probably be in error to not start off the blog by remarking that Aer Lingus and/or United lost our luggage en route to Dublin. This was the first of a few unfortunate events that kicked off our trip, but ultimately I resolved to set forth as if nothing had gone wrong. We filled out the requisite tracking form for our luggage at the airport, were told they would deliver it to us if they found it, and headed into town to visit the Guinness Storehouse. I have always liked Guinness but I was a little skeptical of claims I had heard about how much better it is in Dublin, in Ireland, closer to the source; those claims were thoroughly true. The Storehouse itself is a really fun museum/exhibit with several interactive experiences and a phenomenal view from the bar at the top. On our first day, we also saw bog bodies at the National Museum, met up with a local ambassador who recommended some craft brew spots in town, and played one of those “real life escape from a room” games (we solved about 7/8 of it but unfortunately failed to decipher the final clue). One of the most memorable experiences, however, was probably the first night, when we found a pub that our ambassador from earlier had said his wife would be playing music at. It was a tiny hole in the wall, and to be surrounded by locals, and invited by a local, seeing locals playing traditional and popular songs - and Amy even getting to join in - was particularly memorable. Hearing bus drivers blare local music over the PA and curling fans flood the streets after a match were also memorable.

No mishaps will get in the way of this being a great time. I hope to post some photos of our visit to the Rock of Cashel, Swiss Cottage, and our exploration of Dublin’s craft brew scene soon. Amy will also hopefully make a post shortly - hers are always better than mine! So far, we’re having a great time and looking forward to heading west in a few days.