XIX BLOG Toto Travels
Incredible vistas in spite of the rain
29 May, Sunday
Leaving Oban after 3 great nights at Tanglin Bed and Breakfast with Jim and Liz. We were up the stairs on the first floor, room one, I think, or perhaps room 2. Jim and Liz are great fun to talk with and they have such good tips about local gems. Another good breakfast cooked by Liz.
We were talking about the local whisky and I said I enjoyed Scotland’s whisky especially with a bit of Drambuie. Jim laughed and asked if I had noticed the cartoon of them that is hanging in their entryway. I said that I had seen it and thought it was well done. He grinned and said look closely at what Liz has in her hand.
I peered at the cartoon again: Liz has a plate of full Scottish breakfast in one hand and a bottle of Drambuie in the other. Liz defended herself saying, “But I DON’T drink it for breakfast!” We had a good laugh.
Jim asked where we were going today and when we told him through Glen Coe and then down around the north of Loch Lomond to circle around and come into Glasgow tomorrow, he told us it was a great drive. After a moment, he suggested that we stop in a tiny town named Killin. “It’s off the road a little, but there are two rivers that meet and form great waterfalls. The fishing is the best.” He told us where to turn, but I didn’t process quite what he said and we were off.
Today is our unsure destination day. I definitely wanted to stop in Glencoe and was thinking we would stay in Callander or thereabouts. We had seen the sign to a castle just outside of Oban and so that was our first stop a few minutes out of town with mostly cloudy skies, but a little sun peeking through and no rain – yet.
Dunstaffnage Castle is another old ruin of a castle that looks over the loch. We can see Connel Bridge from most of the property and also the Firth of Lorn to the west peeking through the vegetation.
The man at the Historic Scotland tickets when we said we were seniors, "Yea right, so ought to charge ye double, take ye twice the time to get 'round." he smiled.
As the morning progressed, the rain moved in. Although not a toadstrangler – drenching pour – it was seriously raining and seriously interfering with the view. At Glen Coe, I ran out of patience with the weather, as if that helped. The cold cloudy rainy days with brief periods of sun finally got to me. Hearing Scot after Scot say it was the worst May they could remember had its effect as well. So most of the rest of the day, I swayed between a stiff upper lip and being very irked with the effin' rain.
Traveling from Oban to Glen Coe through the glen (rainy, windy and foggy glens) toward Callander was totally stunning. It was at least equal, if not more beautiful, than the trip past Fort William to Glenfinnan. Although we could not see the sweeping vistas with the layers of hills and mountains above the lochs and glens, it was still impressive. We stopped for about an hour at Glen Coe - in the rain and mist - and took in the well done exhibits at the center. There are well presented exhibits and media presentations about some of the history and geography of the region, reinforcing the reality of the brutality of the English in their conquest of the Scots and also the brutality of the Scottish clans toward one another.
Having read some of the “Harry Potter” lore regarding filming locations, we were on the lookout for Rannoch More, only to discover later that we were driving through the south end of it. The film location for Hagrid’s house was also a mile or so off the road although there are no traces of the hut now, nice to know that the film company took care of the environment.
As it approached 2 o’clock or 14:00, I began to get stressed about accommodation for the night since it was a holiday weekend. When we reached the turn for Killin, I initially said, “No, let’s go on down the road.” Then thought about Jim’s spot-on recommendations and asked Mike to turn back. Mike kept saying that perhaps we could stay in Killin and I was opposed to that idea – wasn’t not my “plan.” I had to remind myself that we had done loads of things that were not in a “plan.”
Killin is about 20 miles north of Callander off the A85 on the A827 and as we turned I realized that Jim had said to turn at Lix Toll which is just a turnoff. He had said it was easy to miss and, of course, he was right.
We drove through the small village and it is in a beautiful glen – valley – where rivers converge into Loch Tay just up the road from Killin. After considering several places, including a stop at the old Killin Hotel, we stopped at Dall Lodge Country House on the outskirts of town toward Loch Tay. And although I was still reluctant, we decided to stay at Dall Lodge. It was a brilliant decision and we would really like to come back and stay a few nights in Killin. Sally and John were our hosts and Mike wanted the room with the view, so that is where we stayed.
Sally recommended a couple of places to eat and we set off back into town for food! The Old Smiddy looked promising and that turned out to be a stellar choice. I ended up having spaghetti, of all things, but is was delicious, Mike had fish and chips – what a surprise. And then we had dessert – oh my – freshly made to order apple tart with a crust that melted in your mouth and I had sticky toffee pudding. It was tied for first place with the Brown Cow Inn in the Lakes District for legendary sticky toffee pudding. Plus the owner came out and visited with us and his almost-one-year-old granddaughter was there to entertain as well.
I have not mentioned it was still raining – ugh. My hope is that is clears in the morning long enough for me to take some decent photos of this beautiful place. I could take photos if I had my back to the rain which protected the lens, but that approach hampers the photography hobby significantly, yeah, ya think! We shopped just a little bit, but all the tourists were clustered in the little shops because it was WET outside, so that shopping spree was short-lived.
Between showers, we drove a ways up the south side of the river, but the road narrowed quickly and then turned to rocks and mud – not a good combination in the rain. So we ventured a few miles up the A827 on the north side of the river and Loch Tay. Mmmmm, beautiful, but rainy so we went back and tucked into our room for a while. I took a short walk – avoiding rain showers – and Mike took a nap. We ventured over to the Hotel Killin later and it was busy with reservations required. We sat in the Hotel’s pub and felt less than welcome part of the time. At some point the server either decided we were okay or decided she was doing herself out of a tip (a little unusual in the UK), so she did provide decent service once our food was served. Go figure. Those experiences have been rare, people here are almost always friendly, helpful, and most attentive.
Interesting to look at the photos and news articles on the wall of the hotel, it is obviously a historic site in this part of Scotland. The town of Killin is seemingly well-known by Scotland’s populace, Jim had given us a great tip to stop in this beautiful area.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Reflections of Iona
28 May, 2011 – a short afternoon
Because of Iona’s spiritual significance, it became important to me to write more thoughts about my visit there from my perspective after the visit, after the dust settled, so to speak.
I have wanted to visit the Isle of Iona since I read about it several years ago. This trip Mull and Iona were not in my original grand plan, although the temptation to visit Iona, even for a short time, has danced around in my thoughts since I started planning this trip. When we decided that my grand plans A and B involved too much driving and not enough time, a visit to Iona, because of its spiritual heritage, became a growing idea that needed no watering. I was eagerly anticipating the short, two hour, visit to Iona.
In the daily post for May 28, I talked about chunks of frustration: missing the first ferry which shortened our time on Iona; knowing we had little time and catching a glimpse of so many sights in such a beautiful setting; wanting to spend time in each place - the garden area, looking at homes, walking up the hills and around the island visiting other ruins and all this was before we approached Iona Abbey then looking at my watch and realizing that Mike would want lunch while we were here was chunk three if my frustration.
Now that we are home and I have been able to contemplate the visit to Iona, the peacefulness, the privilege of walking in Iona and sharing in the history, the visit has become very special. Moments spent there have somehow become magnified as I consider the heritage, the scenery, God’s paintbrush on this tiny island and the influence the quiet peace exerts on seekers.
It also strikes me and reaffirms that to worship can and should take place anywhere and everywhere. Regarding the beauty of God’s creation, the waves on the shoreline, the beaches and cliffs that are worn with time, the fragility of the man-made crafts that venture on the oceans, the fields and hills and rocks and trees fills my spiritual self with joy and peace.
Worship with people of common faith, with people that I share relationship whether we agree on principles or not, is richly rewarding. Joy descends when I share time with those I love and I cannot help but think of God and His love for us all when I am with those that I love.
To be able to explore the island in quiet time, worship in their chapel and worship on the coast and in the hills for a few days would be very nice, but as I reflect on the short and rather hurried time there, I was able to worship in that time as well. Memory and impression leave a peaceful feeling and I am thankful for the opportunity to be there and to realize that feeling of joy and peace is for every place in every time with all people.
In the gift shop, some could say a commercial enterprise, most items had a spiritual significance. From some of the cards I chose:
“Alone with none but thee my God
I journey on my way.
What need I fear when though art near
O King of night and day.
More safe am I within they hand
Than if a host did round me stand.”
St. Columba - (560s C. E.)
“Deep peace of the running wave to you
Deep peace of the flowing air to you
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you
Deep peace of the shining stars to you
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you”
Because of Iona’s spiritual significance, it became important to me to write more thoughts about my visit there from my perspective after the visit, after the dust settled, so to speak.
I have wanted to visit the Isle of Iona since I read about it several years ago. This trip Mull and Iona were not in my original grand plan, although the temptation to visit Iona, even for a short time, has danced around in my thoughts since I started planning this trip. When we decided that my grand plans A and B involved too much driving and not enough time, a visit to Iona, because of its spiritual heritage, became a growing idea that needed no watering. I was eagerly anticipating the short, two hour, visit to Iona.
In the daily post for May 28, I talked about chunks of frustration: missing the first ferry which shortened our time on Iona; knowing we had little time and catching a glimpse of so many sights in such a beautiful setting; wanting to spend time in each place - the garden area, looking at homes, walking up the hills and around the island visiting other ruins and all this was before we approached Iona Abbey then looking at my watch and realizing that Mike would want lunch while we were here was chunk three if my frustration.
Now that we are home and I have been able to contemplate the visit to Iona, the peacefulness, the privilege of walking in Iona and sharing in the history, the visit has become very special. Moments spent there have somehow become magnified as I consider the heritage, the scenery, God’s paintbrush on this tiny island and the influence the quiet peace exerts on seekers.
It also strikes me and reaffirms that to worship can and should take place anywhere and everywhere. Regarding the beauty of God’s creation, the waves on the shoreline, the beaches and cliffs that are worn with time, the fragility of the man-made crafts that venture on the oceans, the fields and hills and rocks and trees fills my spiritual self with joy and peace.
Worship with people of common faith, with people that I share relationship whether we agree on principles or not, is richly rewarding. Joy descends when I share time with those I love and I cannot help but think of God and His love for us all when I am with those that I love.
To be able to explore the island in quiet time, worship in their chapel and worship on the coast and in the hills for a few days would be very nice, but as I reflect on the short and rather hurried time there, I was able to worship in that time as well. Memory and impression leave a peaceful feeling and I am thankful for the opportunity to be there and to realize that feeling of joy and peace is for every place in every time with all people.
In the gift shop, some could say a commercial enterprise, most items had a spiritual significance. From some of the cards I chose:
“Alone with none but thee my God
I journey on my way.
What need I fear when though art near
O King of night and day.
More safe am I within they hand
Than if a host did round me stand.”
St. Columba - (560s C. E.)
“Deep peace of the running wave to you
Deep peace of the flowing air to you
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you
Deep peace of the shining stars to you
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you”
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Mull and Iona
28 May, Saturday
Isles of Oban and Mull
We had a lighter breakfast today. Liz fixed us toast and eggs at our request. We asked about the TI office as it appeared to be closed and we could not find another location yesterday. Jim and Liz old us that the roof was damaged from Monday's horrible storm, so it was closed and moved temporarily near the Ferry Port. The storm on Monday here in Scotland had intensified and was worse than when it had blown through Dingle, Ireland on Saturday. On our drive up to Oban we saw a number of uprooted trees. Yesterday on our drive to Fort William, we saw more trees that have now been cleared from the road and were in process of being chopped for firewood.
It is off to the ferry-port to take the ferry from Oban to the Isle of Mull.
Mike decided to drive down and it took as long as it would to walk, but was warmer. He was also concerned about rain and being too tired when we returned.
This morning is actually partly SUNNY as the ferry is set for Mull - sweet!
Boarded a good-sized ferry (Cal-Mac) to go to Craignure, on the east end of Mull. Thank the Lord it was a good sail to Mull. We even had sun for most of the sail and got some decent photos. After the rough sailing on the Irish Sea to Troon, it was a needed and welcome change for us landlocked folk. There was a group of about 8 or 10 golfers loading on the ferry to go play some golf course on Mull. We talked about David and that he would enjoy playing golf on many of the courses in Scotland - and Ireland and England as well.
We saw a few lighthouses coming into port, including Lismore. We were shuffled immediately onto buses. Our Bowman tour bus driver and guide, Steve, is a blond fellow that has been a tour guide and driver for a long time. We are in a long line of tour buses on our way to Fionnphort across from the Island of Iona, the trip takes nearly two hours. Steve described the etiquette regarding driving on one-way roads, which are most of the roads on Mull and drily commented on other drivers we followed or that we met on the road. He kept us entertained with his dry humor.
It was an informative drive over the south and west side of Mull. Mostly glens with not many trees, we learned that irresponsible logging was to blame for the disappearance of the forest. Due to all the recent rain, there were waterfalls over every rock and in every little crevice. Steve recounted stories of funny previous tourists and of bus mishaps – all minor and amusing. He also related much of the history of Mull and described buildings and small towns and how they were when there were more people throughout the countryside. The A849 takes us by Loch Spelve through Glen More to Pennyghael along Loch Scridain. When we were in Ireland, Karen and I had wondered what the lines of little black pots were in many of the bays and loughs and Mike and I had noticed them here in Scotland. Steve told us they were mussel farms, well now we know!
Arriving in Fionnphort, the place has a toilet and small café, a few buildings, but is primarily the ferry port. Of course, there are the compulsory sheep on the beach. On the short ferry ride to Iona, Mike was busy helping a sweet and feisty lady using a walker. Impressive that she and her rather frail spouse, they were from England, undertook the tour bouncing across Mull on a tour bus and across the channel to Iona.
Although visiting Mull and Iona was not in my first plan, Iona, because of its spiritual heritage, is a place I have wanted to experience. So I was eagerly anticipating a brief, two hour visit to Iona.
This first experience with our short visit to Iona was sprinkled with chunks of frustration. It was too short and there were too many tourist bodies. Initially, not realizing we needed to join the queue as soon as possible, we missed the first ferry to Iona - chunk one of my little frustrations.
Knowing we now only had a bit over an hour and a half overwhelmed me as I saw ruins and small museums on the way to Iona Abbey - chunk two of frustration.
I wanted to spend time in each place - the garden area, looking at homes, walking up the hills and around the island visiting other ruins - and all this was before we approached Iona Abbey. Looking at my watch and realizing that Mike would want lunch while we were here was chunk three of my frustration.
We did arrive at Iona Abbey and took part of a tour, then I walked around just soaking up the place and ended in the gift shop. A few quick views of the cemetery, and a look at the coastline and islands from the abbey and we were off to lunch at St. Columba Hotel. Beautiful view and good food for lunch. Something about the islands and the sea and the constant changing light and waves is so peaceful, contemplative, and soothing.
On the way back, Steve told us about the lady that looked at the mussel pots in the distance and asked if they were trained seals performing. Oh dear! Steve said to her, “Of Course, and they were the devil to train, too, took years.” Then he muttered to all of us, “Synchronized seals, so sure.” Don’t know if he actually told her that or not.
He talked about Mull as a filming location and how the movie stars cause quite a stir at times. Pointing out a small loch, he informed us, “Donald Sutherland was filming “Eye of the Needle” and parked his Land Rover in that loch over there.” He also told us that old Donald fell out of a boat in Oban Harbour when he was “pie-eyed.”
As we approached Crairnure, Steve began driving more slowly. We were tired, so it was a bit frustrating until I realized that he was “early” and was trying to time arrival of our bus closer to the ferry departure time for Oban.
It seemed a little bit rougher sea back to Oban, but not bad. I just did not walk around much on the ferry! We were outside on the deck a good bit of the ride back to Oban, thankful for little rain and quite a bit of sunshine.
Once back in Oban, we walked back to the car, and headed south of town for a little side trip I wanted to make. Of course, we ended up lost in Oban again, but eventually found our way to the A816 to A844 and across the Bridge Over the Atlantic to the Isle of Seil. This was a bit of a silly road trip, but I had noticed the postcards 6 years ago when we were here and wanted to drive down to see this “Bridge Over the Atlantic.” We turned around and came back after a few photos and a quick glance at the Tigh-an-Truish pub that sat just across the road. Meaning "House of Trousers" in Gaelic, the story is that after the wearing of kilts was outlawed on the mainland, Highlanders on the island would use this pub to change into trousers when they crossed to the mainland. It was tempting to try to talk Mike into eating there, but I thought I had pushed my luck far enough for the day. Mission accomplished, and the scenery did not disappoint.
On our way back through Oban we stopped at Cuan Mor again for dinner. Mike told me he wanted the “Naked Blond Ale” again and I said “You mean Skinny Blond Ale?”, and we had a laugh. We both had the Skinny Blond Ale and a delicious dinner, fish and chips for Mike and fresh mountain trout for me.
Back to Tanglin BnB to tuck in for the night, with visions of Iona dancing in my head.
Isles of Oban and Mull
We had a lighter breakfast today. Liz fixed us toast and eggs at our request. We asked about the TI office as it appeared to be closed and we could not find another location yesterday. Jim and Liz old us that the roof was damaged from Monday's horrible storm, so it was closed and moved temporarily near the Ferry Port. The storm on Monday here in Scotland had intensified and was worse than when it had blown through Dingle, Ireland on Saturday. On our drive up to Oban we saw a number of uprooted trees. Yesterday on our drive to Fort William, we saw more trees that have now been cleared from the road and were in process of being chopped for firewood.
It is off to the ferry-port to take the ferry from Oban to the Isle of Mull.
Mike decided to drive down and it took as long as it would to walk, but was warmer. He was also concerned about rain and being too tired when we returned.
This morning is actually partly SUNNY as the ferry is set for Mull - sweet!
Boarded a good-sized ferry (Cal-Mac) to go to Craignure, on the east end of Mull. Thank the Lord it was a good sail to Mull. We even had sun for most of the sail and got some decent photos. After the rough sailing on the Irish Sea to Troon, it was a needed and welcome change for us landlocked folk. There was a group of about 8 or 10 golfers loading on the ferry to go play some golf course on Mull. We talked about David and that he would enjoy playing golf on many of the courses in Scotland - and Ireland and England as well.
We saw a few lighthouses coming into port, including Lismore. We were shuffled immediately onto buses. Our Bowman tour bus driver and guide, Steve, is a blond fellow that has been a tour guide and driver for a long time. We are in a long line of tour buses on our way to Fionnphort across from the Island of Iona, the trip takes nearly two hours. Steve described the etiquette regarding driving on one-way roads, which are most of the roads on Mull and drily commented on other drivers we followed or that we met on the road. He kept us entertained with his dry humor.
It was an informative drive over the south and west side of Mull. Mostly glens with not many trees, we learned that irresponsible logging was to blame for the disappearance of the forest. Due to all the recent rain, there were waterfalls over every rock and in every little crevice. Steve recounted stories of funny previous tourists and of bus mishaps – all minor and amusing. He also related much of the history of Mull and described buildings and small towns and how they were when there were more people throughout the countryside. The A849 takes us by Loch Spelve through Glen More to Pennyghael along Loch Scridain. When we were in Ireland, Karen and I had wondered what the lines of little black pots were in many of the bays and loughs and Mike and I had noticed them here in Scotland. Steve told us they were mussel farms, well now we know!
Arriving in Fionnphort, the place has a toilet and small café, a few buildings, but is primarily the ferry port. Of course, there are the compulsory sheep on the beach. On the short ferry ride to Iona, Mike was busy helping a sweet and feisty lady using a walker. Impressive that she and her rather frail spouse, they were from England, undertook the tour bouncing across Mull on a tour bus and across the channel to Iona.
Although visiting Mull and Iona was not in my first plan, Iona, because of its spiritual heritage, is a place I have wanted to experience. So I was eagerly anticipating a brief, two hour visit to Iona.
This first experience with our short visit to Iona was sprinkled with chunks of frustration. It was too short and there were too many tourist bodies. Initially, not realizing we needed to join the queue as soon as possible, we missed the first ferry to Iona - chunk one of my little frustrations.
Knowing we now only had a bit over an hour and a half overwhelmed me as I saw ruins and small museums on the way to Iona Abbey - chunk two of frustration.
I wanted to spend time in each place - the garden area, looking at homes, walking up the hills and around the island visiting other ruins - and all this was before we approached Iona Abbey. Looking at my watch and realizing that Mike would want lunch while we were here was chunk three of my frustration.
We did arrive at Iona Abbey and took part of a tour, then I walked around just soaking up the place and ended in the gift shop. A few quick views of the cemetery, and a look at the coastline and islands from the abbey and we were off to lunch at St. Columba Hotel. Beautiful view and good food for lunch. Something about the islands and the sea and the constant changing light and waves is so peaceful, contemplative, and soothing.
On the way back, Steve told us about the lady that looked at the mussel pots in the distance and asked if they were trained seals performing. Oh dear! Steve said to her, “Of Course, and they were the devil to train, too, took years.” Then he muttered to all of us, “Synchronized seals, so sure.” Don’t know if he actually told her that or not.
He talked about Mull as a filming location and how the movie stars cause quite a stir at times. Pointing out a small loch, he informed us, “Donald Sutherland was filming “Eye of the Needle” and parked his Land Rover in that loch over there.” He also told us that old Donald fell out of a boat in Oban Harbour when he was “pie-eyed.”
As we approached Crairnure, Steve began driving more slowly. We were tired, so it was a bit frustrating until I realized that he was “early” and was trying to time arrival of our bus closer to the ferry departure time for Oban.
It seemed a little bit rougher sea back to Oban, but not bad. I just did not walk around much on the ferry! We were outside on the deck a good bit of the ride back to Oban, thankful for little rain and quite a bit of sunshine.
Once back in Oban, we walked back to the car, and headed south of town for a little side trip I wanted to make. Of course, we ended up lost in Oban again, but eventually found our way to the A816 to A844 and across the Bridge Over the Atlantic to the Isle of Seil. This was a bit of a silly road trip, but I had noticed the postcards 6 years ago when we were here and wanted to drive down to see this “Bridge Over the Atlantic.” We turned around and came back after a few photos and a quick glance at the Tigh-an-Truish pub that sat just across the road. Meaning "House of Trousers" in Gaelic, the story is that after the wearing of kilts was outlawed on the mainland, Highlanders on the island would use this pub to change into trousers when they crossed to the mainland. It was tempting to try to talk Mike into eating there, but I thought I had pushed my luck far enough for the day. Mission accomplished, and the scenery did not disappoint.
On our way back through Oban we stopped at Cuan Mor again for dinner. Mike told me he wanted the “Naked Blond Ale” again and I said “You mean Skinny Blond Ale?”, and we had a laugh. We both had the Skinny Blond Ale and a delicious dinner, fish and chips for Mike and fresh mountain trout for me.
Back to Tanglin BnB to tuck in for the night, with visions of Iona dancing in my head.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Fort William and Glenfinnan
XVII BLOG Toto Travels
27 May, Friday
We woke up hoping for decent weather and planning a drive toward Fort William. Breakfast at Tanglin was delicious, of course. We did have eggs, "bacon" (more like ham to us Americans) and the sausage, but not the mushrooms and tomatoes.
It was time to do laundry, so we asked Jim and Liz about the laundry that was recommended by Rick Steves' Scotland guide. And off we headed through the somewhat confusing streets of Oban and after one circuit, found the laundry. As we passed it, a lady started coming up the wrong way - Mike pointed urgently at the one way sign and she gestured indignantly to get out of her way. Wow, we both thought, grouchy. We came around, parked and took our laundry in the door to be greeted by the "wrong way" lady as the laundry lady. OOPS. She was not a happy person. We left the laundry wondering if she would launder Mike's clothes with the dirty diapers and maybe conveniently forget to rinse them. Ah well, time will tell.
I wanted to get our seats reserved for the train trip to London on Tuesday and we checked out tours to the Isle of Mull. Jim had recommended a trip to a tiny basalt island of Staffa where more sea life is usually visible and where puffins are commonly seen. Liz came up very quietly and told me, in a low voice, "It's a very small boat and a rough ride, just thought you should know." WHEW, glad to hear that tip, especially after the rough sailing between Larne and Troon across the Irish Sea.
We booked our Bowman ferry and bus tour for the Isles of Mull and Iona for tomorrow, Saturday, and headed toward Fort William. Over Connell Bridge and up more into the Western Highlands, although we would barely scratch the countryside. I had grand visions of making it to Mallaig and then being a able to zip over to Glencoe to check it out before we went back to Oban. However, it is slow going, awesome views- even with the rain - and we stopped often to enjoy the scenery. Jim had recommended a side trip to Appin Harbour, and that was a 10 mile or so side trip that was, of course, on a narrow road. All beautiful, but slow going.
Arrived in Fort William, with the rain stopping for a bit, and enjoyed browsing through some stores in this picturesque town on Loch Linnhe. Big shopping on High Street, but we find Oban much more charming.
Neptune's staircase is a series of locks on the Caledonian Canal that goes to Inverness. It was raining again now, so we stayed in the car and drove to Glenfinnan. I wanted to see the "Hogwart's train " viaduct and a bit more of the highlands on the road to Mallaig.
Rain started in earnest shortly after we left Fort William, sigh.
Driving along Loch Eil on A830, I kept watching for a train, but we did not see one. I was hoping for miracle timing and getting to watch a train cross the Glenfinnan Viaduct.
As it was raining pretty steadily, we did not walk out very far toward the viaduct, partly because it WAS wet, sloshy and soggy, partly because Mike was restless to head back toward Oban, and partly because he was concerned about me falling in the wet conditions (sigh!) The viaduct is set in a spectacular glen, framed by mountains with a marvelous construction on stone.
On the other side of the road is the real reason for the tourist information office, the Glenfinnan Monument on the shores of Loch Shiel. Erected to honor the men who fought for the Jacobite cause with Bonnie Prince Charlie (Prince Charles Edward Stuart) in 1745. The Jacobite cause set to support James VII of Scotland (James II of England), which was unsuccessful. Again, it would have been a lovely short walk out to the monument, in the rain of course, but we were hungry and needed to leave.
Back to Fort William and on to A828 and eventually on A85 toward Oban.
We had a very late lunch at Castle View Restaurant. Providing the view is Castle Stalker in Loch Linnhe between the Isle of Lismore and Appin. It was still raining as we enjoyed a very tasty lunch, a mist-shrouded view of the castle, a peek at the displays of the area history that covered the walls between the gift shop and the little cafe. Mike picked out a great place to eat.
Over Creagan Bridge to Connell Bridge again and back to Tanglin Bed and Breakfast.
My revised grand plan of making the loop up the Caledonian Canal, through Inverness, and back to Glasgow also proved too ambitious. I had to agree that we needed at least 2 additional days for that plan. The original plan involved going to Mallaig, taking the ferry to the Isle of Skye, skirting the coast of Skye, going over the bridge at Kyle of Lochalsh then to Dingwall to see Tulloch Castle - once a Clan Davidson castle- and on to Inverness. I abandoned that plan early.
George MacDowall told us we did not want to do that, it was too much traveling, we needed to enjoy the area and not travel so much. Mike also looked at the route and said, 'I don't want to drive that much." They were both right - so hard for me to admit! This trip the primary focus was part of Ireland, and I need to enjoy the time in Scotland, but realize that five days does not cover much territory unless you drive a ridiculous number of miles at a slow pace.
Tomorrow takes us to the Isle of Mull and to the wee Island of Iona.
27 May, Friday
We woke up hoping for decent weather and planning a drive toward Fort William. Breakfast at Tanglin was delicious, of course. We did have eggs, "bacon" (more like ham to us Americans) and the sausage, but not the mushrooms and tomatoes.
It was time to do laundry, so we asked Jim and Liz about the laundry that was recommended by Rick Steves' Scotland guide. And off we headed through the somewhat confusing streets of Oban and after one circuit, found the laundry. As we passed it, a lady started coming up the wrong way - Mike pointed urgently at the one way sign and she gestured indignantly to get out of her way. Wow, we both thought, grouchy. We came around, parked and took our laundry in the door to be greeted by the "wrong way" lady as the laundry lady. OOPS. She was not a happy person. We left the laundry wondering if she would launder Mike's clothes with the dirty diapers and maybe conveniently forget to rinse them. Ah well, time will tell.
I wanted to get our seats reserved for the train trip to London on Tuesday and we checked out tours to the Isle of Mull. Jim had recommended a trip to a tiny basalt island of Staffa where more sea life is usually visible and where puffins are commonly seen. Liz came up very quietly and told me, in a low voice, "It's a very small boat and a rough ride, just thought you should know." WHEW, glad to hear that tip, especially after the rough sailing between Larne and Troon across the Irish Sea.
We booked our Bowman ferry and bus tour for the Isles of Mull and Iona for tomorrow, Saturday, and headed toward Fort William. Over Connell Bridge and up more into the Western Highlands, although we would barely scratch the countryside. I had grand visions of making it to Mallaig and then being a able to zip over to Glencoe to check it out before we went back to Oban. However, it is slow going, awesome views- even with the rain - and we stopped often to enjoy the scenery. Jim had recommended a side trip to Appin Harbour, and that was a 10 mile or so side trip that was, of course, on a narrow road. All beautiful, but slow going.
Arrived in Fort William, with the rain stopping for a bit, and enjoyed browsing through some stores in this picturesque town on Loch Linnhe. Big shopping on High Street, but we find Oban much more charming.
Neptune's staircase is a series of locks on the Caledonian Canal that goes to Inverness. It was raining again now, so we stayed in the car and drove to Glenfinnan. I wanted to see the "Hogwart's train " viaduct and a bit more of the highlands on the road to Mallaig.
Rain started in earnest shortly after we left Fort William, sigh.
Driving along Loch Eil on A830, I kept watching for a train, but we did not see one. I was hoping for miracle timing and getting to watch a train cross the Glenfinnan Viaduct.
As it was raining pretty steadily, we did not walk out very far toward the viaduct, partly because it WAS wet, sloshy and soggy, partly because Mike was restless to head back toward Oban, and partly because he was concerned about me falling in the wet conditions (sigh!) The viaduct is set in a spectacular glen, framed by mountains with a marvelous construction on stone.
On the other side of the road is the real reason for the tourist information office, the Glenfinnan Monument on the shores of Loch Shiel. Erected to honor the men who fought for the Jacobite cause with Bonnie Prince Charlie (Prince Charles Edward Stuart) in 1745. The Jacobite cause set to support James VII of Scotland (James II of England), which was unsuccessful. Again, it would have been a lovely short walk out to the monument, in the rain of course, but we were hungry and needed to leave.
Back to Fort William and on to A828 and eventually on A85 toward Oban.
We had a very late lunch at Castle View Restaurant. Providing the view is Castle Stalker in Loch Linnhe between the Isle of Lismore and Appin. It was still raining as we enjoyed a very tasty lunch, a mist-shrouded view of the castle, a peek at the displays of the area history that covered the walls between the gift shop and the little cafe. Mike picked out a great place to eat.
Over Creagan Bridge to Connell Bridge again and back to Tanglin Bed and Breakfast.
My revised grand plan of making the loop up the Caledonian Canal, through Inverness, and back to Glasgow also proved too ambitious. I had to agree that we needed at least 2 additional days for that plan. The original plan involved going to Mallaig, taking the ferry to the Isle of Skye, skirting the coast of Skye, going over the bridge at Kyle of Lochalsh then to Dingwall to see Tulloch Castle - once a Clan Davidson castle- and on to Inverness. I abandoned that plan early.
George MacDowall told us we did not want to do that, it was too much traveling, we needed to enjoy the area and not travel so much. Mike also looked at the route and said, 'I don't want to drive that much." They were both right - so hard for me to admit! This trip the primary focus was part of Ireland, and I need to enjoy the time in Scotland, but realize that five days does not cover much territory unless you drive a ridiculous number of miles at a slow pace.
Tomorrow takes us to the Isle of Mull and to the wee Island of Iona.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
And now lovely Argyll
XVI BLOG Toto Travels
26 May, Thursday
We were up early, daylight before 5:00 am makes that difficult to avoid, although we both did go back to sleep for a while. There was a half bath in our room with the shower downstairs. I took my stuff down and discovered a very nice-sized and very clean, if old, shower in the main bathroom. It felt great. Water over my body is one of my greatest addictions, I think. Always so therapeutic.
Breakfast was prepared on Margaret's special Aga stove and was not the full Scottish - at our request - we didn't have tomatoes, mushrooms, or blood pudding, but it was delicious.
Margaret asked to join us in a cuppa tea, and I was pleased to have her join us, she told us more stories about her stove, an Aga, items in the house, her family and the children she had served as nanny. Her Aga stove is her pride and joy
Her garden area is lovely although she told us she lost trees in the storm of Monday night.
Margaret bid us goodbye, Mike took our photo amidst Margaret fussing that she looked far from her best, and she pointed us in the direction out of town.
We drove through Irvine, noting some of the sights that George had pointed out the night before, and found our way to the correct road A78 through Largs, and Wemyss Bay (where we had taken the ferry to Rothesay on the Isle of Bute in 2005 with cousin Russ Stocker) toward Glasgow, then turning toward Gourock and the "Western Ferries" on A770. We followed George's very precise directions to find the ferry crossing for Dunoon. Away we went across the Firth of Clyde on a small ferry to Hunter's Quay which is a suburb of Dunoon (yes, very tongue- in-cheek), where we stopped for coffee and to get some more detailed maps of Scotland.
From Dunoon, we are officially in Argyll and the scenery is immediately mountainous and absolutely beautiful, smashing, brilliant, awesome. Driving A815 along the Firth of Clyde, our first loch is Holy Loch, then on to the western part of Argyll Forest Park, along Loch Eck to A83 to Inveraray.
Lunch and a break in Inveraray. Lunch was at the Royal Burgh Restaurant close to the shores of Loch Fyne, delicious fish n chips - what a surprise. The town of Inveraray is interesting, white buildings and very planned. We learned that the Duke of Argyll (the 2nd or 3rd) wanted a larger estate, so he took most of the then existing town to make it part of his estate. Then he had a town built for the people, still today a trim, neat town with white buildings. I guess he was a good guy, taking care of the little people.
Our lunch place sits next to a bakery named Mr Pia's. We thought that was entertaining with thoughts of Tom and Pia - Tom becoming known as Mr. Pia.
Drove through town to Inveraray Castle. I debated briefly about whether it was worth the money, of course Mike said, "Of course, let's go, if you want." Obviously well maintained and groomed, upon entry we learned that it had been a residence since the 3rd Duke of Argyll. It is now under the 13th Duke, I think. The residence is quite impressive and has been updated and nicely displayed. Artifacts from the 2nd and 3rd Dukes of Argyll are displayed as well as memorabilia and armory from all past Dukes. Obviously, they remain an influential family to this day and are part of Clan Campbell, which is the predominant clan in this part of Scotland.
Although we are close to Oban, there is still a ways to go, so time to find our way through more jaw-dropping scenery to the coastal village of Oban. On the A819 to A85 into Oban past picturesque Kilchurn Castle nestled in Loch Awe. Kilchurn Castle was the seat of the Campbells of Glen Orchy, who later became the Earls of Breadalbane.
Oban is a small fishing village that we visited on a day train trip with Mike's cousins in 2005. We fell in love with it then. The streets are narrow and several are one way as they wind around the contour of the harbour. So we had a misfire or two actually finding Tanglin BnB, but at last, we arrived and were greeted by our hosts, Jim and Liz Montgomery. After unpacking, our host, Jim, recommended a restaurant pub just down the street called Cuan Mor. It was very busy, but we were seated soon and had our beer and a delicious dinner. Back up the street, in the cold wind, back to Tanglin and tucked in for the evening.
26 May, Thursday
We were up early, daylight before 5:00 am makes that difficult to avoid, although we both did go back to sleep for a while. There was a half bath in our room with the shower downstairs. I took my stuff down and discovered a very nice-sized and very clean, if old, shower in the main bathroom. It felt great. Water over my body is one of my greatest addictions, I think. Always so therapeutic.
Breakfast was prepared on Margaret's special Aga stove and was not the full Scottish - at our request - we didn't have tomatoes, mushrooms, or blood pudding, but it was delicious.
Margaret asked to join us in a cuppa tea, and I was pleased to have her join us, she told us more stories about her stove, an Aga, items in the house, her family and the children she had served as nanny. Her Aga stove is her pride and joy
Her garden area is lovely although she told us she lost trees in the storm of Monday night.
Margaret bid us goodbye, Mike took our photo amidst Margaret fussing that she looked far from her best, and she pointed us in the direction out of town.
We drove through Irvine, noting some of the sights that George had pointed out the night before, and found our way to the correct road A78 through Largs, and Wemyss Bay (where we had taken the ferry to Rothesay on the Isle of Bute in 2005 with cousin Russ Stocker) toward Glasgow, then turning toward Gourock and the "Western Ferries" on A770. We followed George's very precise directions to find the ferry crossing for Dunoon. Away we went across the Firth of Clyde on a small ferry to Hunter's Quay which is a suburb of Dunoon (yes, very tongue- in-cheek), where we stopped for coffee and to get some more detailed maps of Scotland.
From Dunoon, we are officially in Argyll and the scenery is immediately mountainous and absolutely beautiful, smashing, brilliant, awesome. Driving A815 along the Firth of Clyde, our first loch is Holy Loch, then on to the western part of Argyll Forest Park, along Loch Eck to A83 to Inveraray.
Lunch and a break in Inveraray. Lunch was at the Royal Burgh Restaurant close to the shores of Loch Fyne, delicious fish n chips - what a surprise. The town of Inveraray is interesting, white buildings and very planned. We learned that the Duke of Argyll (the 2nd or 3rd) wanted a larger estate, so he took most of the then existing town to make it part of his estate. Then he had a town built for the people, still today a trim, neat town with white buildings. I guess he was a good guy, taking care of the little people.
Our lunch place sits next to a bakery named Mr Pia's. We thought that was entertaining with thoughts of Tom and Pia - Tom becoming known as Mr. Pia.
Drove through town to Inveraray Castle. I debated briefly about whether it was worth the money, of course Mike said, "Of course, let's go, if you want." Obviously well maintained and groomed, upon entry we learned that it had been a residence since the 3rd Duke of Argyll. It is now under the 13th Duke, I think. The residence is quite impressive and has been updated and nicely displayed. Artifacts from the 2nd and 3rd Dukes of Argyll are displayed as well as memorabilia and armory from all past Dukes. Obviously, they remain an influential family to this day and are part of Clan Campbell, which is the predominant clan in this part of Scotland.
Although we are close to Oban, there is still a ways to go, so time to find our way through more jaw-dropping scenery to the coastal village of Oban. On the A819 to A85 into Oban past picturesque Kilchurn Castle nestled in Loch Awe. Kilchurn Castle was the seat of the Campbells of Glen Orchy, who later became the Earls of Breadalbane.
Oban is a small fishing village that we visited on a day train trip with Mike's cousins in 2005. We fell in love with it then. The streets are narrow and several are one way as they wind around the contour of the harbour. So we had a misfire or two actually finding Tanglin BnB, but at last, we arrived and were greeted by our hosts, Jim and Liz Montgomery. After unpacking, our host, Jim, recommended a restaurant pub just down the street called Cuan Mor. It was very busy, but we were seated soon and had our beer and a delicious dinner. Back up the street, in the cold wind, back to Tanglin and tucked in for the evening.
Ferry from Larne to Troon, Scotland
XV BLOG Toto Travels
25 May, Wednesday
Scotland Today!
We had breakfast at a little self-serve cafe in Spires shopping center by the Fitzwilliam Hotel
Next we just moseyed around central Belfast to Customs House, Big Fish, Donegall Square, and City Hall. Sadly there was not time for the tour of Belfast City Hall, although we walked through and did our own little tour. Then back to the hotel to check out and wait for time to leave for our train trip.
Mike walked down to Ulster Center while I checked email.
Our Cabby to Central Station was chatty and wanted to know where we were from. He said he was raised in Belfast right under that hill (pointing up the street to the visible hill).
Belfast was quite lovely, we stayed near the rail station and were in the heart of downtown Belfast. It is definitely another city that is tourist friendly.
Had a cuppa coffee at Central Station waiting for train to Larne Harbour.
The train, an older and slower one, provided a great ride was beautiful scenery - I do repeat myself about that, along the coast, parts were hilly and, of course, lush greens. Old houses, some obviously not well kept, but mostly a lovely slow ride with many stops including Carrickfergus and Whitehead which looked like beautiful towns.
Arriving a little early, we decided to go to lunch at Larne Harbour Ferry Port, and it was really good - "vegetable broth" which was actually a delicious broth- based soup full of barley, carrots, onion, and some other veggies greens. The baked potato was smothered in local Irish cheddar-oh my!
On the ferry the Captain said the ferry ride would be pretty rough and he was so right! Ugh. Mike said I was the color of my olive green jacket, and I felt like it.
At Troon we were met by George MacDowall. His wife, Laura, is a good friend of my friend, Betty Jones. Betty spent a year in Irvine, Scotland on a teacher exchange where she and Laura became dear friends. I had met Laura before and was looking forward to visiting with them. My priority this trip is the western highlands, but I would love to come back and see Ayrshire.
George shepherded us to Hertz at Prestwick Airport to pick up our car. It is a red Kia Venga and and quite a bit nicer than the one in Ireland. George carefully instructed Mike in the ways of driving in Scotland, then showed us to our BnB to leave our bags and introduce us to his friend and our BnB host, Margaret Duffy. Margaret and George chatted a bit while Mike and I took our bags up and used the loo.
Then we were off to dinner in his car at the MacDowalls. George and Laura were the ultimate hosts. The evening was wonderful, it felt as if we had known them a long time. Laura had prepared a delicious dinner of sole and accompaniments. Their daughter Emma was there and it was so nice to meet her. George and Laura told wonderful stories and provided a delightful evening. Laura even called our mutual friend, Betty, and we talked to her for a few minutes. Then Emma drove us back to the BnB with the impish Margret Duffy who is around 80 and has way more energy than I. She was just a grand hoot! And her BnB is a darling wee home that has been in her family for a long time and she has a story for every item there.
A very long day, it was midnight before we were in bed. Whew!
25 May, Wednesday
Scotland Today!
We had breakfast at a little self-serve cafe in Spires shopping center by the Fitzwilliam Hotel
Next we just moseyed around central Belfast to Customs House, Big Fish, Donegall Square, and City Hall. Sadly there was not time for the tour of Belfast City Hall, although we walked through and did our own little tour. Then back to the hotel to check out and wait for time to leave for our train trip.
Mike walked down to Ulster Center while I checked email.
Our Cabby to Central Station was chatty and wanted to know where we were from. He said he was raised in Belfast right under that hill (pointing up the street to the visible hill).
Belfast was quite lovely, we stayed near the rail station and were in the heart of downtown Belfast. It is definitely another city that is tourist friendly.
Had a cuppa coffee at Central Station waiting for train to Larne Harbour.
The train, an older and slower one, provided a great ride was beautiful scenery - I do repeat myself about that, along the coast, parts were hilly and, of course, lush greens. Old houses, some obviously not well kept, but mostly a lovely slow ride with many stops including Carrickfergus and Whitehead which looked like beautiful towns.
Arriving a little early, we decided to go to lunch at Larne Harbour Ferry Port, and it was really good - "vegetable broth" which was actually a delicious broth- based soup full of barley, carrots, onion, and some other veggies greens. The baked potato was smothered in local Irish cheddar-oh my!
On the ferry the Captain said the ferry ride would be pretty rough and he was so right! Ugh. Mike said I was the color of my olive green jacket, and I felt like it.
At Troon we were met by George MacDowall. His wife, Laura, is a good friend of my friend, Betty Jones. Betty spent a year in Irvine, Scotland on a teacher exchange where she and Laura became dear friends. I had met Laura before and was looking forward to visiting with them. My priority this trip is the western highlands, but I would love to come back and see Ayrshire.
George shepherded us to Hertz at Prestwick Airport to pick up our car. It is a red Kia Venga and and quite a bit nicer than the one in Ireland. George carefully instructed Mike in the ways of driving in Scotland, then showed us to our BnB to leave our bags and introduce us to his friend and our BnB host, Margaret Duffy. Margaret and George chatted a bit while Mike and I took our bags up and used the loo.
Then we were off to dinner in his car at the MacDowalls. George and Laura were the ultimate hosts. The evening was wonderful, it felt as if we had known them a long time. Laura had prepared a delicious dinner of sole and accompaniments. Their daughter Emma was there and it was so nice to meet her. George and Laura told wonderful stories and provided a delightful evening. Laura even called our mutual friend, Betty, and we talked to her for a few minutes. Then Emma drove us back to the BnB with the impish Margret Duffy who is around 80 and has way more energy than I. She was just a grand hoot! And her BnB is a darling wee home that has been in her family for a long time and she has a story for every item there.
A very long day, it was midnight before we were in bed. Whew!
Monday, June 20, 2011
To Belfast on the train
XIV BLOG Toto Travels
24 May, Tuesday
Up to a full Irish breakfast at the Central Hotel, and off to the Dublin airport which took less than an hour.
Dropped our Hertz Suzuki Alto off on Tuesday the 24th at Dublin and took a cab to Connely Station for the rail to Belfast - wonderful ride, interesting to watch the changing scenery, we were definitely going north.
Our cabby from Belfast Central train station to the Fitzwilliam Hotel was "interesting" to say the least. A young lad very proud of 7 generations of family committed to a United Republic of Ireland. We got an earfull and some insight into the troubles that really do still exist, just less violence than in the 90s, but it obviously lurks close to the surface.
After checking into our very flashy hotel (and pricey) we headed to the TI to shop, so silly, and to look around Central Belfast. At the TI, a chap recommended a cheap place for early dinner called Brights. After walking there, we were not too sure about it-looked a little sketchy, but it turned out to be good, if plain. It worked for two hungry, tired tourists.
A little meandering around on our way back to the Fitzwilliam, but the sites were closed.
In the room, I fussed and fumed at being cut off when trying to make ferry arrangements for tomorrow to Troon, Scotland. Turned out the fare on the second call was €12 less apiece (from 64 to 52) than the first phone call -huh? Don't ask just go with it.
We did an early night, stayed in, I took at bath in the huge bathtub that had a nozzle spray as well as the usual faucet, almost as good as a whirlpool, ahhhh. once again, many sites left to see on another trip, both natural wonders, old buildings, and museums.
24 May, Tuesday
Up to a full Irish breakfast at the Central Hotel, and off to the Dublin airport which took less than an hour.
Dropped our Hertz Suzuki Alto off on Tuesday the 24th at Dublin and took a cab to Connely Station for the rail to Belfast - wonderful ride, interesting to watch the changing scenery, we were definitely going north.
Our cabby from Belfast Central train station to the Fitzwilliam Hotel was "interesting" to say the least. A young lad very proud of 7 generations of family committed to a United Republic of Ireland. We got an earfull and some insight into the troubles that really do still exist, just less violence than in the 90s, but it obviously lurks close to the surface.
After checking into our very flashy hotel (and pricey) we headed to the TI to shop, so silly, and to look around Central Belfast. At the TI, a chap recommended a cheap place for early dinner called Brights. After walking there, we were not too sure about it-looked a little sketchy, but it turned out to be good, if plain. It worked for two hungry, tired tourists.
A little meandering around on our way back to the Fitzwilliam, but the sites were closed.
In the room, I fussed and fumed at being cut off when trying to make ferry arrangements for tomorrow to Troon, Scotland. Turned out the fare on the second call was €12 less apiece (from 64 to 52) than the first phone call -huh? Don't ask just go with it.
We did an early night, stayed in, I took at bath in the huge bathtub that had a nozzle spray as well as the usual faucet, almost as good as a whirlpool, ahhhh. once again, many sites left to see on another trip, both natural wonders, old buildings, and museums.
From Dingle to Tullemore
XIII BLOG Toto Travels
23 May, Monday
Post office day, we got a box and then packed our souvenirs to mail. It was ridiculously expensive, but we didn't want to lug another bag around, so we mailed the box. Goodbye to Kathleen at Harbour Nights and off toward the Dublin area.
The weather is still unsettled, Mike took a coastal road and we watched the waves crash. At one beach that was not protected and faced the ocean directly, the wind was blowing and swirling and so badly that the sand obscured visibility. Ugh.
We diverted ourselves to the wrong road at some point around Killarney, but Mike kept going in the right direction and we eventually ended up on the correct road to Adare, County Limerick. His sense of direction is almost always dead on, unlike mine.
Adare was a great stop for lunch. I told Mike I wanted him to see the thatched roof houses and the Visitor's Center. We ate lunch at The Blue Door Restaurant, loved it.
We had planned to go on N7 to Dublin from Limerick, but we turned at Nenagh on N52 which eventually took us all the way up to the M6 and to Dublin on Tuesday. We arrived in County Offaly on our re- route due to Obama's visit and were about 12 to 15 km from the town of Moneygall when Obama landed there to have his Guinness with distant cousins. That was about as close as you could get due to security. We listened to the radio commentary and excitement about Obama's visit and it was pretty funny. Mike got tired of the radio yakking and insisted I turn it off.
There was a wee unplanned detour, someone had switched the signs shortly before the town of Birr, and had the N52 sign pointed to the right. After less than 1/2 mile, on a narrowing road we knew something was NOT right and went back to the main road. Several places I would have liked to seen in Birr, but not this trip.
After a stop at the TI in Tullemore, just south of the M6 between Galway and Dublin, we had a room booked at the Central Hotel. We checked in and had a chat with the desk clerk, Sinead, about the French tourists. It seems as a group on a tour, we are not the only ones that find them aggressive and offensive.
The room is lovely with a little balcony and view of the town park.
We ate Italian tonight at a place recommended by the TI ladies, called Mezzo. No Guinness, but the hotel has a pub. The chicken ceasar salad was really good, a welcome salad oasis in the salad desert of Ireland. The term "salad" in the British Isles usually means something quite different than my concept of salad.
In Tullemore several people asked us about our President's visit and were rather surprised we had not stopped everything to watch the festivities. The Irish, without exception, were very excited about President Obama's visit, unlike the mixed reaction to the visit of Queen Elizabeth II. Of course history certainly explains the difference in outlook.
Back to the hotel where I went to the lobby to check email and have a glass of milk which Sinead got for me without charge.
To top it off I got a glass (yep, just a ha'pint) of Guinness for our last night in Ireland. Took it up to the room, got my jammies on, and had my Guinness in bed. Mike thought that was hilarious and took a photo. Slainte!
23 May, Monday
Post office day, we got a box and then packed our souvenirs to mail. It was ridiculously expensive, but we didn't want to lug another bag around, so we mailed the box. Goodbye to Kathleen at Harbour Nights and off toward the Dublin area.
The weather is still unsettled, Mike took a coastal road and we watched the waves crash. At one beach that was not protected and faced the ocean directly, the wind was blowing and swirling and so badly that the sand obscured visibility. Ugh.
We diverted ourselves to the wrong road at some point around Killarney, but Mike kept going in the right direction and we eventually ended up on the correct road to Adare, County Limerick. His sense of direction is almost always dead on, unlike mine.
Adare was a great stop for lunch. I told Mike I wanted him to see the thatched roof houses and the Visitor's Center. We ate lunch at The Blue Door Restaurant, loved it.
We had planned to go on N7 to Dublin from Limerick, but we turned at Nenagh on N52 which eventually took us all the way up to the M6 and to Dublin on Tuesday. We arrived in County Offaly on our re- route due to Obama's visit and were about 12 to 15 km from the town of Moneygall when Obama landed there to have his Guinness with distant cousins. That was about as close as you could get due to security. We listened to the radio commentary and excitement about Obama's visit and it was pretty funny. Mike got tired of the radio yakking and insisted I turn it off.
There was a wee unplanned detour, someone had switched the signs shortly before the town of Birr, and had the N52 sign pointed to the right. After less than 1/2 mile, on a narrowing road we knew something was NOT right and went back to the main road. Several places I would have liked to seen in Birr, but not this trip.
After a stop at the TI in Tullemore, just south of the M6 between Galway and Dublin, we had a room booked at the Central Hotel. We checked in and had a chat with the desk clerk, Sinead, about the French tourists. It seems as a group on a tour, we are not the only ones that find them aggressive and offensive.
The room is lovely with a little balcony and view of the town park.
We ate Italian tonight at a place recommended by the TI ladies, called Mezzo. No Guinness, but the hotel has a pub. The chicken ceasar salad was really good, a welcome salad oasis in the salad desert of Ireland. The term "salad" in the British Isles usually means something quite different than my concept of salad.
In Tullemore several people asked us about our President's visit and were rather surprised we had not stopped everything to watch the festivities. The Irish, without exception, were very excited about President Obama's visit, unlike the mixed reaction to the visit of Queen Elizabeth II. Of course history certainly explains the difference in outlook.
Back to the hotel where I went to the lobby to check email and have a glass of milk which Sinead got for me without charge.
To top it off I got a glass (yep, just a ha'pint) of Guinness for our last night in Ireland. Took it up to the room, got my jammies on, and had my Guinness in bed. Mike thought that was hilarious and took a photo. Slainte!
A day on Dingle Peninsula
XII BLOG Toto Travels
22 May, Sunday
Dingle
Sunday morning dawned much nicer, but it remains cold for this time of year. Definitely still rain jacket weather. Kathleen is very cordial as well as businesslike. She calls every guest by name and with 14 rooms housing 2 to 4 people each, knowing everyone's name is noteworthy.
After a reasonably leisurely morning, we left for Slea Head drive around Dingle peninsula on a partly sunny morn. Around Ventry bay, again rugged coastline and crashing waves. And sheep... I read somewhere there were about 500,000 sheep on little Dingle peninsula, and I believe it! Now that has to be a JOB counting sheep!
At our first main stop, the beehives, ancient dwellings made of stacked stones with a technique called corbelling, are scattered amid a maze of stacked stone fences, I read on a neatly handwritten note on the outhouse door:
DEAR CUSTOMER
PLEASE BOLT THE DOOR AFTER USE
IF THE DOOR IS LEFT OPEN MY SHEEP WILL EAT THE TOILET ROLL
THANK YOU
Ya gotta love it! And looking at all the sheep, I do not doubt it for a second.
Clochans or beehives, stone-stacked house-type structures of unknown origin. Various writings date the dwellings from 2000 BC to 800 or 900 AD, who knows. Well preserved and interesting to observe. Who lived and worked here 1300 years ago? Was it a family, did they hunt, fish, raise sheep - all of the above?
As we continued the coast drive Mike was on high alert for a "little blue house" that said: coffee, tea, pies. We heard about it from the Boston couple at dinner in Ennis. But alas, no little blue house was to be found- maybe the fairies own it and it only magically appears certain days.
On around we viewed Slea Head beach nestled in the cliffs and crags. As we drew closer, we could see people on the beach and we saw a tour bus (gasp - surprise) in a parking lot. Initially we thought it was too cold, but then decided to check it out. Glad we did. Great walk down to the beach, with little wind and quite a bit of sun. It was a protected cove plus the weather was improving. The people here were scattered and quietly enjoying the beach, well except for a group of young adults from Spain who were having great fun but not bothering anyone. Mike took a photo for them of the entire group and then one of them took a pic of us.
Two young fellows were posing against the ocean or the rocky coast and taking turns snapping photos of each other. I offered to take a photo of the two of them. They looked quite surprised, then rather sheepish and one muttered in a very proper English accent, " No, we're not wanky or anything like that."
I laughed hard to myself and thought of several things to say, from quipping, " really, ya sure look it" to ,"really, stop acting like it then" to the motherly "of course not, didn't mean it that way." I am sure it played with the rest of their day. Cousin Melody commented on my Facebook post, "Don't you know they spent the rest of the day trying hard not to look NOT 'wanky'."
Still on the lookout for the mythical (?) wee blue house with the pies, we drove on around through Dunquin with a quick look at Great Blasket Center and on through Ballyferriter.
The last planned stop was Gallaras Oratory a bit down the road. It is a stacked stone chapel looking like an elongated beehive that is about 1300 years old, one of the best preserved early church ruins in Ireland according to travel books. Small, not many would fit here for worship. Again, a place to stop and reflect on life 1300 years ago in such an isolated, although beautiful, place.
Back in Dingle, we walked and shopped and ran across the Dingle dogs cart, has a catchy ring, doesn't it? A Dingle Dog would have sounded good, except we had just eaten at The Watershed. I had a cheese plate at lunch, really enjoy the fresh local cheese, especially combined with crackers and grapes or jam - yum. After walking around a bit more, we tried to find the Post Office you "couldn't miss" - we have done quite a bit of missing things-you-can't- miss according to the locals. We finally figured out where it must be, so tomorrow - Monday - we will mail a box of Ireland trinkets. On our way tomorrow toward Dublin area to wind up Ireland for this trip.
It occurred to me to check the road closures due to President Obama's Visit to the home of his ancestors in County Offaly, the town of Monyegall. Sure enough the N7 would be closed about the time we would be through that area. In addition there were no decent rooms with acceptable rates that I could find in a short time available in or around Dublin on Monday night, not Dun Laoghaire, not Malahide - sigh. There are football and rugby, or was it hurling? games that are drawing loads of visitors.
Dingle is a great fun little village set on a beautiful, rugged, historical peninsula. Life is slower and there may be more sheep grazing per square foot than about anywhere else in Ireland. I could stay here and enjoy.
The sound of the ocean, the peaceful countryside, the simple life, a time for reflection and simply being in God's earth, listening to nature - or to the silence. Worship slips overs me as I look in wonder at this portrait of earth and bask in the greatness of our God.
22 May, Sunday
Dingle
Sunday morning dawned much nicer, but it remains cold for this time of year. Definitely still rain jacket weather. Kathleen is very cordial as well as businesslike. She calls every guest by name and with 14 rooms housing 2 to 4 people each, knowing everyone's name is noteworthy.
After a reasonably leisurely morning, we left for Slea Head drive around Dingle peninsula on a partly sunny morn. Around Ventry bay, again rugged coastline and crashing waves. And sheep... I read somewhere there were about 500,000 sheep on little Dingle peninsula, and I believe it! Now that has to be a JOB counting sheep!
At our first main stop, the beehives, ancient dwellings made of stacked stones with a technique called corbelling, are scattered amid a maze of stacked stone fences, I read on a neatly handwritten note on the outhouse door:
DEAR CUSTOMER
PLEASE BOLT THE DOOR AFTER USE
IF THE DOOR IS LEFT OPEN MY SHEEP WILL EAT THE TOILET ROLL
THANK YOU
Ya gotta love it! And looking at all the sheep, I do not doubt it for a second.
Clochans or beehives, stone-stacked house-type structures of unknown origin. Various writings date the dwellings from 2000 BC to 800 or 900 AD, who knows. Well preserved and interesting to observe. Who lived and worked here 1300 years ago? Was it a family, did they hunt, fish, raise sheep - all of the above?
As we continued the coast drive Mike was on high alert for a "little blue house" that said: coffee, tea, pies. We heard about it from the Boston couple at dinner in Ennis. But alas, no little blue house was to be found- maybe the fairies own it and it only magically appears certain days.
On around we viewed Slea Head beach nestled in the cliffs and crags. As we drew closer, we could see people on the beach and we saw a tour bus (gasp - surprise) in a parking lot. Initially we thought it was too cold, but then decided to check it out. Glad we did. Great walk down to the beach, with little wind and quite a bit of sun. It was a protected cove plus the weather was improving. The people here were scattered and quietly enjoying the beach, well except for a group of young adults from Spain who were having great fun but not bothering anyone. Mike took a photo for them of the entire group and then one of them took a pic of us.
Two young fellows were posing against the ocean or the rocky coast and taking turns snapping photos of each other. I offered to take a photo of the two of them. They looked quite surprised, then rather sheepish and one muttered in a very proper English accent, " No, we're not wanky or anything like that."
I laughed hard to myself and thought of several things to say, from quipping, " really, ya sure look it" to ,"really, stop acting like it then" to the motherly "of course not, didn't mean it that way." I am sure it played with the rest of their day. Cousin Melody commented on my Facebook post, "Don't you know they spent the rest of the day trying hard not to look NOT 'wanky'."
Still on the lookout for the mythical (?) wee blue house with the pies, we drove on around through Dunquin with a quick look at Great Blasket Center and on through Ballyferriter.
The last planned stop was Gallaras Oratory a bit down the road. It is a stacked stone chapel looking like an elongated beehive that is about 1300 years old, one of the best preserved early church ruins in Ireland according to travel books. Small, not many would fit here for worship. Again, a place to stop and reflect on life 1300 years ago in such an isolated, although beautiful, place.
Back in Dingle, we walked and shopped and ran across the Dingle dogs cart, has a catchy ring, doesn't it? A Dingle Dog would have sounded good, except we had just eaten at The Watershed. I had a cheese plate at lunch, really enjoy the fresh local cheese, especially combined with crackers and grapes or jam - yum. After walking around a bit more, we tried to find the Post Office you "couldn't miss" - we have done quite a bit of missing things-you-can't- miss according to the locals. We finally figured out where it must be, so tomorrow - Monday - we will mail a box of Ireland trinkets. On our way tomorrow toward Dublin area to wind up Ireland for this trip.
It occurred to me to check the road closures due to President Obama's Visit to the home of his ancestors in County Offaly, the town of Monyegall. Sure enough the N7 would be closed about the time we would be through that area. In addition there were no decent rooms with acceptable rates that I could find in a short time available in or around Dublin on Monday night, not Dun Laoghaire, not Malahide - sigh. There are football and rugby, or was it hurling? games that are drawing loads of visitors.
Dingle is a great fun little village set on a beautiful, rugged, historical peninsula. Life is slower and there may be more sheep grazing per square foot than about anywhere else in Ireland. I could stay here and enjoy.
The sound of the ocean, the peaceful countryside, the simple life, a time for reflection and simply being in God's earth, listening to nature - or to the silence. Worship slips overs me as I look in wonder at this portrait of earth and bask in the greatness of our God.
On to Dingle, County Kerry
XI BLOG Toto Travels
21 May - Saturday
Edit
Breakfast at Lakeside,with our great hostess, Joan. We joined the Kennedys for a bit and said goodbye. We packed, glad we had a car as we had acquired gifts, souvenirs, and extra clothes. Setting off for Shannon to get Mike's bag which was indeed at Aer Lingus, we backtracked to take the ferry across the Shannon River from Killimer in County Shannon to Tarbert in County Kerry.
A rainy morning and a bit blustery, we were following a lorry when suddenly all came to a halt. As we crept forward, there were cattle in the road, in the wet mess, in the rain. And a farmer and his wife, shouting, waving, slapping cow fannies, trying desperately to herd the cattle off the road. It was just plain funny (if you weren't the farmer or the wife). After much mooing, yelling, grunting, shoving of bovine bodies, and mud splatters they were by us, leaving us laughing out loud at the spectacle, definitely entertainment for us.
To a small ferry, across the Shannon, and on our way to Dingle via Listowel, Tralee, and several small villages. We diverted toward Dingle via Connor Pass. The weather was worsening, now raining steadily and even hard at times. Beautiful bits of coastline visible through the misty skies. Remembering Healy Pass on the Beara Peninsula on a cold, but much nicer day, I asked Mike if Connor Pass was a good idea. Of course, he said no problem. And he was more or less correct, we were one of the few eejits trying to traverse the pass in driving rain with little visibility.
We climbed out of lush green to mountain country in worsening weather and reducing visibility. Sheep were along the road and the waterfalls were everywhere thanks to the deluge. The pea soup we were peering through was not quite as bad as the morning we awoke to fog on the Big Island of Hawaii, opened our extra- cost room with a view and could not even see the foot path out of our window. I had to laugh then and now. Then we passed four soaked, bedraggled sheep and lambs, huddled against a stone barrier fence on the side of the road, looking pathetically through the driving rain at us. It was an "Awwww, poor babies." moment and at the same time it was funny.
As we came down the pass, the mists lifted a bit and we could see some of the loughs in the valleys in the distance. Still a beautiful drive, but only a fraction of the vista promised on post cards.
We parked and ate a late lunch of fish n chips at Harrington's Family Restaurant. Very good fish n chips, with the traditional accompaniment of Guinness. Then a little browsing in the shops and help at the TI with train schedules. Back to a BnB called Harbour Nights on the Harbour (imagine that) to check into our harbour view room. Good thing I called from the road, we got the last "view" room and the people that came in with us got the last room.
There were now short periods of no rain. Mike took a nap and I took a walk.
We had seen a place that had a live music session at half 8 instead of the half 9 or half 10 we had seen other places. Mike was never up that "late," but half 8 was doable. We went to John Bennys Pub and had dinner, a pint 'o Guinness and waited for the music. I decided it was a good night for Irish Coffe - cold and rainy - and it tasted great. However through the night, the fried food, Guinness, and Irish Whiskey caught up with me, ugh. But enough about that.
The music was grand trad Irish by accordion and guitar. A female vocalist also performed, Pauline Scanlon, who we were told is becoming a big name in Ireland. She was great, but we liked the trad music. The accordion player, John Benny Moriarity, owns the pub and is liked much locally as a musician.
Back to BnB in the pelting rain and strong wind to bed. The wind howled and blew all night, shaking the place at times. The waves rose to the pavement in a place next door, but we had a seawall. The TI Lady called it a gale, I would agree heartily.
21 May - Saturday
Edit
Breakfast at Lakeside,with our great hostess, Joan. We joined the Kennedys for a bit and said goodbye. We packed, glad we had a car as we had acquired gifts, souvenirs, and extra clothes. Setting off for Shannon to get Mike's bag which was indeed at Aer Lingus, we backtracked to take the ferry across the Shannon River from Killimer in County Shannon to Tarbert in County Kerry.
A rainy morning and a bit blustery, we were following a lorry when suddenly all came to a halt. As we crept forward, there were cattle in the road, in the wet mess, in the rain. And a farmer and his wife, shouting, waving, slapping cow fannies, trying desperately to herd the cattle off the road. It was just plain funny (if you weren't the farmer or the wife). After much mooing, yelling, grunting, shoving of bovine bodies, and mud splatters they were by us, leaving us laughing out loud at the spectacle, definitely entertainment for us.
To a small ferry, across the Shannon, and on our way to Dingle via Listowel, Tralee, and several small villages. We diverted toward Dingle via Connor Pass. The weather was worsening, now raining steadily and even hard at times. Beautiful bits of coastline visible through the misty skies. Remembering Healy Pass on the Beara Peninsula on a cold, but much nicer day, I asked Mike if Connor Pass was a good idea. Of course, he said no problem. And he was more or less correct, we were one of the few eejits trying to traverse the pass in driving rain with little visibility.
We climbed out of lush green to mountain country in worsening weather and reducing visibility. Sheep were along the road and the waterfalls were everywhere thanks to the deluge. The pea soup we were peering through was not quite as bad as the morning we awoke to fog on the Big Island of Hawaii, opened our extra- cost room with a view and could not even see the foot path out of our window. I had to laugh then and now. Then we passed four soaked, bedraggled sheep and lambs, huddled against a stone barrier fence on the side of the road, looking pathetically through the driving rain at us. It was an "Awwww, poor babies." moment and at the same time it was funny.
As we came down the pass, the mists lifted a bit and we could see some of the loughs in the valleys in the distance. Still a beautiful drive, but only a fraction of the vista promised on post cards.
We parked and ate a late lunch of fish n chips at Harrington's Family Restaurant. Very good fish n chips, with the traditional accompaniment of Guinness. Then a little browsing in the shops and help at the TI with train schedules. Back to a BnB called Harbour Nights on the Harbour (imagine that) to check into our harbour view room. Good thing I called from the road, we got the last "view" room and the people that came in with us got the last room.
There were now short periods of no rain. Mike took a nap and I took a walk.
We had seen a place that had a live music session at half 8 instead of the half 9 or half 10 we had seen other places. Mike was never up that "late," but half 8 was doable. We went to John Bennys Pub and had dinner, a pint 'o Guinness and waited for the music. I decided it was a good night for Irish Coffe - cold and rainy - and it tasted great. However through the night, the fried food, Guinness, and Irish Whiskey caught up with me, ugh. But enough about that.
The music was grand trad Irish by accordion and guitar. A female vocalist also performed, Pauline Scanlon, who we were told is becoming a big name in Ireland. She was great, but we liked the trad music. The accordion player, John Benny Moriarity, owns the pub and is liked much locally as a musician.
Back to BnB in the pelting rain and strong wind to bed. The wind howled and blew all night, shaking the place at times. The waves rose to the pavement in a place next door, but we had a seawall. The TI Lady called it a gale, I would agree heartily.
Monday, June 6, 2011
The Burren, County Clare
X BLOG Toto Travels
20 May, Friday
The Burren, County Clare
We decided last night to stay another night at Ennis and do at least a bit of "justice" to seeing The Burren. Joan fixed a full Irish breakfast for the Mikes. It was a very nice breakfast with the four of us, lots of laughter. Mike's bag was supposedly in the Shannon airport and would be delivered to Lakeside sometime today. When trying to confirm that, I ended up in another endless loop of messages at baggage.
We were both off to the Burren in separate vehicles, Kennedys left a bit before we did. It had been cloudy, but cleared shortly before we left, so we went to Cliffs of Moher first. Another beautiful drive with views of the River Shannon as the car climbed toward the cliffs that are set on the Atlantic Ocean. Sheep, cows and old ruins abound.
A stunning sight, cliffs that rise 650 feet from a crashing Atlantic. What a view. It is probably always windy, although it was sunny with brief periods of relative calm. The visitor center is underground, with entrances in the grassy hill, looking like a dwarf or rabbit hole from a Disney flik - all very well done and tidy.
Crashing waves exhibiting the force of the ocean is always mesmerizing. For hours I could watch all the different areas of the lifts as each wave creates a different painting as it crashes into the ungiving cliffs. Persistence of the waves over time, of course, creates a slightly different coastline.
At the suggestion of the guide at Quin Abbey, we took the coastal road around to Doolin and on to Ballyvaughan.
Mike stopped at Doolin to check on boat rides. He was pretty "safe" - it was too windy and turbulent to sail. It was interesting to walk a bit along the coastline here, very rough and rocky. Doolin is wee village of scattered homes and pubs and a few stores, with many BnBs. Famous for it's music, it is a rustic setting and comes alive at night. It would be fun to spend a few nights with a couple of friends and check out the music.
The coastal drive - although overrun with tour buses - was amazing. We watched the inland change to a barren Burren, and then back to beautiful coastline of Galway Bay close to Ballyvaughan.
Since my musical grandfather Davidson taught me to sing Galway Bay as a 7 or 8 year old, I have wanted to see Galway Bay and visit Galway. We did not have time to go to Galway as I decided I had higher sightseeing priorities, but at least drove along the bay for bit - satisfied my childhood yearning for this trip.
The first pub was very busy and crowded with at least 3 tour buses, so we passed on that one. Typical of driving in Ireland, we got through town and had to turn round to find a place to eat. Logues Lodge, across from a Spar store and the visitor center was excellent. I later read it was highly recommended. They also had tour buses booked but we managed to be there between the 12:30 and 1:30 buses - yay us. Ordered scones and jam to go and they were delicious - in the top 5 of the scone rating system to now. Mike had good fish n chips and I was brave and had roast beef with gravy, potatoes and vegetables. It had a wonderful flavor, especially for the British Isles.
After lunch, we drove a little on N67 to turn off on R480 to the turn for Ailwee Cave. Passing up Doolin Cave, we decided to take a look at Ailwee Cave. Having been to Carlsbad Caverns, we were skeptical, but decided to have a look. The Burren is reportedly set on a large series of interconnected caves. Driving up to the cave entrance gave us a spectacular view of Galway Bay with the scrubby, rocky Burren in the foreground.
Ailwee Cave was worth the time and money. Not nearly as big a tour as Carlsbad Caverns, but there were only a handful of us and it was very personal and we were close to the formations. A wet cave, it was easy to, well, get bit damp. The guide also had an entertaining spiel. The cave was discovered in 1944 by Jacko McGann when his dog chased a rabbit down a hole. When he went after the dog, he discovered an entry to the cave. A translator for one group misspoke and said that the dog chased a Rabbi down the hole instead of rabbit. Hmm, interesting mental picture. Confused some tourists, don't you think?
Another observation by our guide - Stalactite means something is dripping on something else - Stalagmite means something is getting dripped on...
Rather a metaphor for life, don't you think?
I think the guide or whoever came up with that parallel is pretty dead-on.
And the joke -pointing out segments of a stalagmite - Timeline on Stalagmite from the top most recent drips - 1st 3rd marks Alexander the Great, 2nd third represents he building of the pyramids, below that somewhere is the oldest- when Mick Jagger met Keith Richards - they are the oldest Stones - (rim shot)
Back to the road, we passed several ruins, barren country with scrubby growth, grazing sheep on our way to the Burial portal Poulnabrone Dolmen - ancient burial portal on the Burren, amidst stony walks with fossils evident in the stones. When excavated in the 1980s, remains of over 25 people were found along with numerous artifacts. It looks like a stone tablet, set out amongst the rocky hills.
The capstone weighs 5 tons. Strange to reflect on this ancient structure, it is dated at around 4000 BC. Consider all the ages that have passed with the variety of peoples that have viewed and used this structure.
Back to R476, back toward Ennis and the R458 to Lakeside's R473. I really wanted to walk down for a close look at Killone Abbey and Killone Lough. We followed the directions for driving part way that Joan had given us (2nd right, then 1st right, park at the gate), and walked a bit to the abbey ruins. Very nice walk and good fun tromping through the ruins.
Arriving back at Lakeside, Joan told us "no bag." Argh. After trying AGAIN several times to contact Aer Lingus by phone about the lost bag, we drove to Shannon airport, partially in meltdown mode at this point. Mike talked to the man, they tried to check on the bag's whereabouts, but really did not know where the bag was - thought it might arrive on the flight from Manchester tonight. The bag claim man was very nice, very apologetic and promised to call us if the bag came in.
So the next stop was shopping at Dunnes to get Mike a few clothes, back to Ennis and we located - with a nice lady's help - (The Irish are truly the most helpful people ever) to locate the Dunne's Store that we couldn't miss, right. Once inside the plain front, I could see how people said "It's big, you can't miss it" we, on the other hand, had missed it twice, it was just down from Poet's Corner - sigh.
Dinner was lovely, visited with a couple from Boston that had just been in Dingle, and let the Guinness soothe frayed nerves over the luggage.
Back to Lakeside and good night.
Good at his word, the bag claim man phoned - around 11:00 pm ( or 23:00) to tell us Mike's bag arrived at Shannon.
In retrospect, the bag was not such a big deal as we it made to be. As usual, fretting is useless and self- destructive.
20 May, Friday
The Burren, County Clare
We decided last night to stay another night at Ennis and do at least a bit of "justice" to seeing The Burren. Joan fixed a full Irish breakfast for the Mikes. It was a very nice breakfast with the four of us, lots of laughter. Mike's bag was supposedly in the Shannon airport and would be delivered to Lakeside sometime today. When trying to confirm that, I ended up in another endless loop of messages at baggage.
We were both off to the Burren in separate vehicles, Kennedys left a bit before we did. It had been cloudy, but cleared shortly before we left, so we went to Cliffs of Moher first. Another beautiful drive with views of the River Shannon as the car climbed toward the cliffs that are set on the Atlantic Ocean. Sheep, cows and old ruins abound.
A stunning sight, cliffs that rise 650 feet from a crashing Atlantic. What a view. It is probably always windy, although it was sunny with brief periods of relative calm. The visitor center is underground, with entrances in the grassy hill, looking like a dwarf or rabbit hole from a Disney flik - all very well done and tidy.
Crashing waves exhibiting the force of the ocean is always mesmerizing. For hours I could watch all the different areas of the lifts as each wave creates a different painting as it crashes into the ungiving cliffs. Persistence of the waves over time, of course, creates a slightly different coastline.
At the suggestion of the guide at Quin Abbey, we took the coastal road around to Doolin and on to Ballyvaughan.
Mike stopped at Doolin to check on boat rides. He was pretty "safe" - it was too windy and turbulent to sail. It was interesting to walk a bit along the coastline here, very rough and rocky. Doolin is wee village of scattered homes and pubs and a few stores, with many BnBs. Famous for it's music, it is a rustic setting and comes alive at night. It would be fun to spend a few nights with a couple of friends and check out the music.
The coastal drive - although overrun with tour buses - was amazing. We watched the inland change to a barren Burren, and then back to beautiful coastline of Galway Bay close to Ballyvaughan.
Since my musical grandfather Davidson taught me to sing Galway Bay as a 7 or 8 year old, I have wanted to see Galway Bay and visit Galway. We did not have time to go to Galway as I decided I had higher sightseeing priorities, but at least drove along the bay for bit - satisfied my childhood yearning for this trip.
The first pub was very busy and crowded with at least 3 tour buses, so we passed on that one. Typical of driving in Ireland, we got through town and had to turn round to find a place to eat. Logues Lodge, across from a Spar store and the visitor center was excellent. I later read it was highly recommended. They also had tour buses booked but we managed to be there between the 12:30 and 1:30 buses - yay us. Ordered scones and jam to go and they were delicious - in the top 5 of the scone rating system to now. Mike had good fish n chips and I was brave and had roast beef with gravy, potatoes and vegetables. It had a wonderful flavor, especially for the British Isles.
After lunch, we drove a little on N67 to turn off on R480 to the turn for Ailwee Cave. Passing up Doolin Cave, we decided to take a look at Ailwee Cave. Having been to Carlsbad Caverns, we were skeptical, but decided to have a look. The Burren is reportedly set on a large series of interconnected caves. Driving up to the cave entrance gave us a spectacular view of Galway Bay with the scrubby, rocky Burren in the foreground.
Ailwee Cave was worth the time and money. Not nearly as big a tour as Carlsbad Caverns, but there were only a handful of us and it was very personal and we were close to the formations. A wet cave, it was easy to, well, get bit damp. The guide also had an entertaining spiel. The cave was discovered in 1944 by Jacko McGann when his dog chased a rabbit down a hole. When he went after the dog, he discovered an entry to the cave. A translator for one group misspoke and said that the dog chased a Rabbi down the hole instead of rabbit. Hmm, interesting mental picture. Confused some tourists, don't you think?
Another observation by our guide - Stalactite means something is dripping on something else - Stalagmite means something is getting dripped on...
Rather a metaphor for life, don't you think?
I think the guide or whoever came up with that parallel is pretty dead-on.
And the joke -pointing out segments of a stalagmite - Timeline on Stalagmite from the top most recent drips - 1st 3rd marks Alexander the Great, 2nd third represents he building of the pyramids, below that somewhere is the oldest- when Mick Jagger met Keith Richards - they are the oldest Stones - (rim shot)
Back to the road, we passed several ruins, barren country with scrubby growth, grazing sheep on our way to the Burial portal Poulnabrone Dolmen - ancient burial portal on the Burren, amidst stony walks with fossils evident in the stones. When excavated in the 1980s, remains of over 25 people were found along with numerous artifacts. It looks like a stone tablet, set out amongst the rocky hills.
The capstone weighs 5 tons. Strange to reflect on this ancient structure, it is dated at around 4000 BC. Consider all the ages that have passed with the variety of peoples that have viewed and used this structure.
Back to R476, back toward Ennis and the R458 to Lakeside's R473. I really wanted to walk down for a close look at Killone Abbey and Killone Lough. We followed the directions for driving part way that Joan had given us (2nd right, then 1st right, park at the gate), and walked a bit to the abbey ruins. Very nice walk and good fun tromping through the ruins.
Arriving back at Lakeside, Joan told us "no bag." Argh. After trying AGAIN several times to contact Aer Lingus by phone about the lost bag, we drove to Shannon airport, partially in meltdown mode at this point. Mike talked to the man, they tried to check on the bag's whereabouts, but really did not know where the bag was - thought it might arrive on the flight from Manchester tonight. The bag claim man was very nice, very apologetic and promised to call us if the bag came in.
So the next stop was shopping at Dunnes to get Mike a few clothes, back to Ennis and we located - with a nice lady's help - (The Irish are truly the most helpful people ever) to locate the Dunne's Store that we couldn't miss, right. Once inside the plain front, I could see how people said "It's big, you can't miss it" we, on the other hand, had missed it twice, it was just down from Poet's Corner - sigh.
Dinner was lovely, visited with a couple from Boston that had just been in Dingle, and let the Guinness soothe frayed nerves over the luggage.
Back to Lakeside and good night.
Good at his word, the bag claim man phoned - around 11:00 pm ( or 23:00) to tell us Mike's bag arrived at Shannon.
In retrospect, the bag was not such a big deal as we it made to be. As usual, fretting is useless and self- destructive.
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