All packed and ready for an early morning departure for home. I'll be getting off the flight in Toronto to spend the weekend with family. Easter Sunday I'll get back to my own place to start the great re-settling.
Heather and I have had a wonderful time. We've done Dublin from Epic Ireland to Gogarty's Irish pub in Temple Bar. We rode the Hop-on Hop-off to great advantage. Today we toured Dublin Castle. Timing was perfect as the forecasted rain arrived while we were inside. We lunched in their cafe where the food was good but the service was appallingly slow.
We didn't want to tour the Guinness Storehouse, but we wanted to shop at their store for requested souvenirs. I've been on the tour twice already. So, we hopped on again and disembarked at Stop 15. As it happens, you have to take the 20 Euro tour just to get into the shop. We weren't that anxious to give them money, so we moved on. We were lucky because we were able to hop right back on the same bus. The driver assured us that Carroll's - a huge souvenir store - would have all the same Guinness gear. Well, they had some things but not really what we wanted. I hope the substitutes are acceptable.
Back on the bus again. Our final destination was the Kilmainham Gaol. Rumour has it that the tour is wonderful. I tried to book tickets online last night but they are all sold out for the next week except for a few tickets for Sunday at 11 and next Tuesday at 4. That's just a tad late for us. They keep tickets back for walk-ins, but we weren't lucky enough to get them. So, we had to settle for wandering around the museum there. Too many stairs - and more or less only signs to read and a few items from when the prison was open. It is very sad to see the sentences imposed for stealing a loaf of bread to feed the family. So - off to the bus once more.
Back again at O'Connell street we waited at the Air Link bus stop for the trip back out to the airport. From there the hotel shuttle returned us to the Clayton Hotel. Our key cards, for the second day in a row, would not open the door to the elevator lobby. Back to the desk we went for new ones. Those didn't work either, so we were given brand new cards. Bingo - we could get back to our room.
We've packed up and will shortly call it a night. It will be an early morning and hopefully the flight will be on time. I'll miss Ireland, yet am very much looking forward to seeing family and friends again.
I will keep writing this blog from time to time to keep track of my adventures in genealogy. It is unlikely to be of any interest until my next trip, except to diehard family historians.
Slan
Wednesday, April 12, 2017
Monday, April 10, 2017
Clear across the country today
This morning dawned sunny and very chilly but we set out as planned and walked the mile or so into the centre of Galway for the Hop on Hop off bus tour. Funny name for it - you only hop on at the beginning and off at the end. There are no pickups en route - probably because there is only one bus and it runs 4 times a day. Ah well, it was a nice tour.
Subsequently we spent time walking around the pedestrian area of mostly shops and restaurants and pubs. It was alternately sunny and cloudy. We walked through the Spanish Arch to see the museum. Alas, Monday was a poor choice as it was closed. Oddly enough, the cafe attached to it was open.
Having seen what we could, it was time to point the car east - so we did. Traffic was light and the road was good and we decided to pay a short visit to Clonmacnoise. It is a very old sacred sight that incorporates relatively recent graves, 20th century, into a very old cemetery. The various monastic buildings are in ruins but interesting features remain. The three high crosses, the originals, are now inside the museum and copies have taken their place out in the elements. Taking photos was complicated by the ride-on lawnmower that seemed to sense what I wanted to photograph and was often in view. Having to cut grass, even while sitting down, around hundreds of ancient headstones would not be my idea of a good time.
With Clonmacnoise in the rear view mirror it was a straight run to Dublin. By that I mean there were no nasty incidents. There were some interesting roads. None of them straight. Many of the sights of Ireland's Ancient East are not on main roads, so the dedicated tourist must spend some time on those lovely twisting narrow hilly byways. The hedges are in bloom with the bright yellow of the gorse and the soft white of what I think is Blackthorn. I can't explain the white vs black thing.
We arrived at our airport hotel and after having to line up to check in, we were upgraded to a larger room. Nice. With arms full of stuff and a large suitcase each, we then had to pause to open the door to the elevator lobby with the room key. OK - all set again. The elevator was quick and we disembarked onto a nice marble floor. For a half second. Then we hit the lovely plush carpet. It would be wonderful to walk on this in bare feet. Try hauling a 50 lb suitcase on wheels over sand. The rate of travel would be about the same as ours down the hall, and down another hall. Why is it that an upgrade means your room is so far from the elevator there is little need for a treadmill in your life?
The evening was spent getting into Dublin on the AirLink bus as part of our 72 hour bus pass to everything we'd want, eating at Gogarty's and enjoying the Irish music. The return bus trip was uneventful and we've now called it a day.
here's a link to today's images - some are already on FB
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/0an1w7xrnyk83e3/AADIWyVh6zNV_7WDb2Hh7AWha
Slan
Subsequently we spent time walking around the pedestrian area of mostly shops and restaurants and pubs. It was alternately sunny and cloudy. We walked through the Spanish Arch to see the museum. Alas, Monday was a poor choice as it was closed. Oddly enough, the cafe attached to it was open.
Having seen what we could, it was time to point the car east - so we did. Traffic was light and the road was good and we decided to pay a short visit to Clonmacnoise. It is a very old sacred sight that incorporates relatively recent graves, 20th century, into a very old cemetery. The various monastic buildings are in ruins but interesting features remain. The three high crosses, the originals, are now inside the museum and copies have taken their place out in the elements. Taking photos was complicated by the ride-on lawnmower that seemed to sense what I wanted to photograph and was often in view. Having to cut grass, even while sitting down, around hundreds of ancient headstones would not be my idea of a good time.
With Clonmacnoise in the rear view mirror it was a straight run to Dublin. By that I mean there were no nasty incidents. There were some interesting roads. None of them straight. Many of the sights of Ireland's Ancient East are not on main roads, so the dedicated tourist must spend some time on those lovely twisting narrow hilly byways. The hedges are in bloom with the bright yellow of the gorse and the soft white of what I think is Blackthorn. I can't explain the white vs black thing.
We arrived at our airport hotel and after having to line up to check in, we were upgraded to a larger room. Nice. With arms full of stuff and a large suitcase each, we then had to pause to open the door to the elevator lobby with the room key. OK - all set again. The elevator was quick and we disembarked onto a nice marble floor. For a half second. Then we hit the lovely plush carpet. It would be wonderful to walk on this in bare feet. Try hauling a 50 lb suitcase on wheels over sand. The rate of travel would be about the same as ours down the hall, and down another hall. Why is it that an upgrade means your room is so far from the elevator there is little need for a treadmill in your life?
The evening was spent getting into Dublin on the AirLink bus as part of our 72 hour bus pass to everything we'd want, eating at Gogarty's and enjoying the Irish music. The return bus trip was uneventful and we've now called it a day.
here's a link to today's images - some are already on FB
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/0an1w7xrnyk83e3/AADIWyVh6zNV_7WDb2Hh7AWha
Slan
Sunday, April 9, 2017
From Cork to Castlebar
Our full day in Cork started with the Hop on Hop off bus tour which hit the highlights. We hopped on at the third stop and off at the last, which was also the first. From there we explored the English Market and local shopping streets. We didn't buy anything. Once our feet were done, we hopped back on and got the intro to the tour. Two stops later we got off at our hotel where we had started. It was a fun tour. Possibly the most amazing part was how the coach driver navigated streets that I swear were narrower than the bus - and they weren't all one-way streets. My opinion is the bus was built by Harry Potter Enterprises so they could morph to whatever shape was required to fit in tight spaces and around impossibly tight corners.
We declined to climb the tower and ring the bells at St Anne's Shandon. There was an opportunity to tour the jail which once housed both men and women, in separate wings. We'll probably tour Kilmainham Gaol in Dublin instead.
The afternoon was a genealogist's dream. Frank Keating and his daughter Leah - cousins of Heather's - picked us up. Frank grew up in Cork and navigates the streets light a tour bus driver, just with a smaller vehicle. He was able to show Heather all of the properties where her ancestors lived before leaving for Canada in the early 20th century. The Scanlons were a wealthy family so the reason for their emigration is still a mystery. They had a fabulous big home, on a hill overlooking the city. We were able to climb the 35 steps from the street to the front door, but didn't get in. There are 7 fireplaces, judging from the number of chimney pots.
We met them again for supper in town and later Declan joined us for drinks at our hotel. We talked until after midnight when a wedding party - already all roaring drunk - staggered to the next table. At that point they were so loud and obnoxious that we called it a night.
Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny and the temperature later reached the high teens, Celsius. I pointed our car north towards Limerick and off we went. Our guide was the bossy voice in the GPS. We went as far as Ennis, Co Clare, on main roads. Then the fun began. To see more we set the machine for Kilrush. With a preference for back roads we saw more than we had bargained for but it was all amazingly lovely.
Once parked in Kilrush we asked two ladies for a recommendation for lunch. The Potter's Hand was a short walk away and worth every step. In conversation with our server, we learned that the locals prefer the cliffs at Kilkee to the Cliffs of Moher, where we were headed. Nothing beats local knowledge, so Kilkee was the next destination. Wow is the only word to use. Parking was free and we just followed the path, past the cafe and up the hill. And up the hill. And up the next hill where I pointed to the top and said "Nope". But up we went and up some more. All the way to the top. The reward was a fabulous view and a need to take off the jackets. Heather timed our return walk, which was non-stop going down, and it took about 25 minutes. Almost to the bottom we watched some idiots in bathing suits navigate the rough rocks where waves were crashing, in order to plunge into the cold Atlantic waters. I was afraid we were going to see a mass drowning. Fortunately, they all got out safely, screeching about the cold water.
From there is was on to the Cliffs of Moher. It was my third visit and the third time the weather was great. We had to wait in line to park the car, but then up we went again. Our reward was a perfect view in the early evening.
Unable to find the right Maldron hotel with the GPS we did get to one a few miles away from our destination in Galway and they gave us directions. We're on the edge of town - a 20 minute walk got us to the pedestrian shopping and dining area.
Today we took the coastal route through what became a desolate rocky landscape. It really was not our taste in views. We lunched on the coast at Clifden but declined to take a flight or a ferry to the Aran Islands. We got into mountainous territory but with the rain and cloud we only saw the vague outline of most mountains, including the Twelve Pins. They are there but we missed them. We did stop at Kylemore Abbey, once a castle. Its designation changed when it became home to the Benedictine Nuns. The rain was heaviest while we were enjoying the interior of the 'castle' and we wandered in the lovely gift shop for a bit.
On to Westport, which was so busy we didn't stop. Also, it was still raining. Rather than retrace our same route back to Galway we used the Autoaddress app to bring us to Castlebar, then Ballindine and on to Galway.
We walked into town for supper but didn't stay for the traditional Irish music which didn't start until 9:30. We are now watching the Masters. Tomorrow, a tour of Galway city and some time wandering the interesting shops. Then on to Dublin for our last stop before flying home. Here are some links to pictures:
Saturday: Kilrush, Kilkee and Cliffs of Moher
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/dpyrmv3jbsj3otq/AADdn3r_YJUX3O_ZF29EM6kPa
Sunday: the rugged west coast of Galway and Mayo
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/rt59sdztg6fvp3a/AABXBO-_GpfTpKbdkHIxMVjra
We declined to climb the tower and ring the bells at St Anne's Shandon. There was an opportunity to tour the jail which once housed both men and women, in separate wings. We'll probably tour Kilmainham Gaol in Dublin instead.
The afternoon was a genealogist's dream. Frank Keating and his daughter Leah - cousins of Heather's - picked us up. Frank grew up in Cork and navigates the streets light a tour bus driver, just with a smaller vehicle. He was able to show Heather all of the properties where her ancestors lived before leaving for Canada in the early 20th century. The Scanlons were a wealthy family so the reason for their emigration is still a mystery. They had a fabulous big home, on a hill overlooking the city. We were able to climb the 35 steps from the street to the front door, but didn't get in. There are 7 fireplaces, judging from the number of chimney pots.
We met them again for supper in town and later Declan joined us for drinks at our hotel. We talked until after midnight when a wedding party - already all roaring drunk - staggered to the next table. At that point they were so loud and obnoxious that we called it a night.
Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny and the temperature later reached the high teens, Celsius. I pointed our car north towards Limerick and off we went. Our guide was the bossy voice in the GPS. We went as far as Ennis, Co Clare, on main roads. Then the fun began. To see more we set the machine for Kilrush. With a preference for back roads we saw more than we had bargained for but it was all amazingly lovely.
Once parked in Kilrush we asked two ladies for a recommendation for lunch. The Potter's Hand was a short walk away and worth every step. In conversation with our server, we learned that the locals prefer the cliffs at Kilkee to the Cliffs of Moher, where we were headed. Nothing beats local knowledge, so Kilkee was the next destination. Wow is the only word to use. Parking was free and we just followed the path, past the cafe and up the hill. And up the hill. And up the next hill where I pointed to the top and said "Nope". But up we went and up some more. All the way to the top. The reward was a fabulous view and a need to take off the jackets. Heather timed our return walk, which was non-stop going down, and it took about 25 minutes. Almost to the bottom we watched some idiots in bathing suits navigate the rough rocks where waves were crashing, in order to plunge into the cold Atlantic waters. I was afraid we were going to see a mass drowning. Fortunately, they all got out safely, screeching about the cold water.
From there is was on to the Cliffs of Moher. It was my third visit and the third time the weather was great. We had to wait in line to park the car, but then up we went again. Our reward was a perfect view in the early evening.
Unable to find the right Maldron hotel with the GPS we did get to one a few miles away from our destination in Galway and they gave us directions. We're on the edge of town - a 20 minute walk got us to the pedestrian shopping and dining area.
Today we took the coastal route through what became a desolate rocky landscape. It really was not our taste in views. We lunched on the coast at Clifden but declined to take a flight or a ferry to the Aran Islands. We got into mountainous territory but with the rain and cloud we only saw the vague outline of most mountains, including the Twelve Pins. They are there but we missed them. We did stop at Kylemore Abbey, once a castle. Its designation changed when it became home to the Benedictine Nuns. The rain was heaviest while we were enjoying the interior of the 'castle' and we wandered in the lovely gift shop for a bit.
On to Westport, which was so busy we didn't stop. Also, it was still raining. Rather than retrace our same route back to Galway we used the Autoaddress app to bring us to Castlebar, then Ballindine and on to Galway.
We walked into town for supper but didn't stay for the traditional Irish music which didn't start until 9:30. We are now watching the Masters. Tomorrow, a tour of Galway city and some time wandering the interesting shops. Then on to Dublin for our last stop before flying home. Here are some links to pictures:
Saturday: Kilrush, Kilkee and Cliffs of Moher
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/dpyrmv3jbsj3otq/AADdn3r_YJUX3O_ZF29EM6kPa
Sunday: the rugged west coast of Galway and Mayo
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/rt59sdztg6fvp3a/AABXBO-_GpfTpKbdkHIxMVjra
Saturday, April 8, 2017
Lots to catch up on
Monday was wet and we got a very late start, but we got to see some pet lambs at Coolross. Then we headed to the Rock Tavern and our timing was perfect. There was a sheep about to have a lamb. We put on Wellies and headed to the shed with James and Tom and young Michael followed. Michael was just in time to pull the lamb who arrived healthy and hearty.
Not ten minutes later a calf decided it was time to see the world and once more a great scene for a couple of city slickers.
Tuesday was probably over scheduled but we got in all in. Kilkenny was our first destination and little did I realize that driving in that city would be such a nightmare. Getting there was the only fun. The streets are narrow and twisting and our timing was such that we enjoyed not only the morning rush hour traffic, but garbage trucks and construction vehicles taking up most of the roadway anyhow. Eventually we got back and found a parking spot near the castle - and took the self-guided tour. This was not actually a choice, but the only option. Worked just fine.
Subsequently we had to move the car - ugh - but found a parking garage and then got back to the castle just in time for the city tour. I don't know if you'd call it by trolley or train but it had a driver in the first 'car' and a couple of other cars linked behind. The guide was recorded and played at appropriate points of interest, interspersed by traditional music, and to our chagrin, the barking of Typhoid Mary in the row behind us. So far we don't seem to have picked up the bug that ailed her, thankfully.
We spent some time wandering and dropped into the new Medieval Mile Museum. They've done a fabulous job renovating the old church into an amazing display space. But that's mostly what it was - space. There are very few exhibits other than medieval tombstones, a few swords and assorted limited other old things. We were less than impressed but as it was the grand opening, they let us in for free. Well worth the price.
From there we went to Rothe House and I asked to speak with Mary Flood, a researcher who has been very helpful over the years, so I could thank her. She was busy but since I "knew" her, they let us in there for free too. This was a terrific tour - three very old homes, well maintained, belonged to the merchant class. There were interesting artifacts. Best of all, at the top level, was a restored garden space. It was huge and for a reversal of the usual way, a parking lot was removed to put in the garden.
Then it was back to the car to get to Coolross and see the rest of the family. We had very little time but maxed it well. Off to the shed we went with Jim and Maria who mixed up the formulas and kept filling bottles. Heather and I, with help from Jim, got to bottle feed the swarm of hungry pet lambs. We had a great time.
But it was off again to the House of Stories at Ballyduff. In a thatched cottage, dimmed to candelight, we listened to recitatons, personal stories, music, songs and poems. There was Irish soda bread baked in a cauldron suspended over the fire - very tasty and served with loads of butter.
It was a pair of tired travellers that dropped into bed that night.
Wednesday we drove to New Ross and toured the replica of the Dunbrody Ship which had carried Fitzwilliam Emigrants to their new life in Canada. Our ancestors were on a different ship but the experience would have been the same. We were the only people on the tour. Bonus!
From there it was off to Kilmore Quay in pursuit of the best fish and chips in Ireland. Well, the place was still lovely but the chip shop didn't open till 5. We went back to Mary Barry's where Marg and I had eaten a couple of weeks prior. The fish cakes were just as tasty this time.
Said lots of good-byes to the family. We picked up Kathy D for a drink at Jim's pub in Carnew but made it an early evening.
Thursday was our journey to Cork - via Waterford where we just drove around and then got back on the road. First real stop was Blarney Castle. I declined to climb again - twice is enough. Heather made it up in record time and didn't have to wait. Moments later the line ups started. Yay again.
From there it was Kinsale and the sun came out. Driving first to Charles Fort we had super views of the harbour area and a quick stop at Bulman's Pub for a nostalgia visit. Once again the town offered driving challenges but we found parking "up the hill".
Then it was time to find the hotel and I must say there is no part of Cork traffic that I find amusing. The city is old, the streets are narrow, and the 'creative parking' puts one's patience to the test. We had to circle the hotel once and drive around the block to pull in near the hotel and unload. The Metropole is very old and is an interesting building. I think the walk from the lift to our room was about half a kilometer, and included four steps. I particularly enjoyed the steps while schlepping two suitcases. But - location was perfect.
Fading fast now - I'll bring you up to date tomorrow night.
Not ten minutes later a calf decided it was time to see the world and once more a great scene for a couple of city slickers.
Tuesday was probably over scheduled but we got in all in. Kilkenny was our first destination and little did I realize that driving in that city would be such a nightmare. Getting there was the only fun. The streets are narrow and twisting and our timing was such that we enjoyed not only the morning rush hour traffic, but garbage trucks and construction vehicles taking up most of the roadway anyhow. Eventually we got back and found a parking spot near the castle - and took the self-guided tour. This was not actually a choice, but the only option. Worked just fine.
Subsequently we had to move the car - ugh - but found a parking garage and then got back to the castle just in time for the city tour. I don't know if you'd call it by trolley or train but it had a driver in the first 'car' and a couple of other cars linked behind. The guide was recorded and played at appropriate points of interest, interspersed by traditional music, and to our chagrin, the barking of Typhoid Mary in the row behind us. So far we don't seem to have picked up the bug that ailed her, thankfully.
We spent some time wandering and dropped into the new Medieval Mile Museum. They've done a fabulous job renovating the old church into an amazing display space. But that's mostly what it was - space. There are very few exhibits other than medieval tombstones, a few swords and assorted limited other old things. We were less than impressed but as it was the grand opening, they let us in for free. Well worth the price.
From there we went to Rothe House and I asked to speak with Mary Flood, a researcher who has been very helpful over the years, so I could thank her. She was busy but since I "knew" her, they let us in there for free too. This was a terrific tour - three very old homes, well maintained, belonged to the merchant class. There were interesting artifacts. Best of all, at the top level, was a restored garden space. It was huge and for a reversal of the usual way, a parking lot was removed to put in the garden.
Then it was back to the car to get to Coolross and see the rest of the family. We had very little time but maxed it well. Off to the shed we went with Jim and Maria who mixed up the formulas and kept filling bottles. Heather and I, with help from Jim, got to bottle feed the swarm of hungry pet lambs. We had a great time.
But it was off again to the House of Stories at Ballyduff. In a thatched cottage, dimmed to candelight, we listened to recitatons, personal stories, music, songs and poems. There was Irish soda bread baked in a cauldron suspended over the fire - very tasty and served with loads of butter.
It was a pair of tired travellers that dropped into bed that night.
Wednesday we drove to New Ross and toured the replica of the Dunbrody Ship which had carried Fitzwilliam Emigrants to their new life in Canada. Our ancestors were on a different ship but the experience would have been the same. We were the only people on the tour. Bonus!
From there it was off to Kilmore Quay in pursuit of the best fish and chips in Ireland. Well, the place was still lovely but the chip shop didn't open till 5. We went back to Mary Barry's where Marg and I had eaten a couple of weeks prior. The fish cakes were just as tasty this time.
Said lots of good-byes to the family. We picked up Kathy D for a drink at Jim's pub in Carnew but made it an early evening.
Thursday was our journey to Cork - via Waterford where we just drove around and then got back on the road. First real stop was Blarney Castle. I declined to climb again - twice is enough. Heather made it up in record time and didn't have to wait. Moments later the line ups started. Yay again.
From there it was Kinsale and the sun came out. Driving first to Charles Fort we had super views of the harbour area and a quick stop at Bulman's Pub for a nostalgia visit. Once again the town offered driving challenges but we found parking "up the hill".
Then it was time to find the hotel and I must say there is no part of Cork traffic that I find amusing. The city is old, the streets are narrow, and the 'creative parking' puts one's patience to the test. We had to circle the hotel once and drive around the block to pull in near the hotel and unload. The Metropole is very old and is an interesting building. I think the walk from the lift to our room was about half a kilometer, and included four steps. I particularly enjoyed the steps while schlepping two suitcases. But - location was perfect.
Fading fast now - I'll bring you up to date tomorrow night.
Monday, April 3, 2017
Ireland 2017 - phase 2
Well, the genealogy has been packed up and the touring has begun.
Early yesterday morning - very early - I dragged my sleepless self out of bed and got ready for the drive to Dublin Airport. Heather's plane was due at 8:25 and it was on time. I left Bunclody shortly after 7 am and was in the terminal just minutes after the plane landed. We exchanged a few texts before she finally walked out through the gate. I don't think she realized how taxing the first day would be but she's a trooper, despite fatigue.
I'd had about 3 hours of sleep - about 3 more than she had managed on the plane. Being a good sport she was ready for the adventure. Instead of heading towards Bunclody, we set out for Banagher. This is a small town in Co Offaly in the central plains area of Ireland. Reaching it by motorway was easy. The Shannon flows through the town and we headed in that direction - downhill. I had no idea how to find the river but it was obviously not going to be at the top of the hills.
Just before getting there I spied the old pub J J Hough's. It is now quite famous and a tourist destination. To say the interior is seedy and tacky is to offer high praise. I think the curtains were hung about the time that weaving cotton came into fashion. They haven't been washed since either. The tables are small, the seats are either low stools or old armchairs. There is a small bar and there were a few loyal customers. This was Sunday morning - before noon. I guess it was 5 o'clock somewhere. We had a look around, saw the small open fire and left. They don't serve food and even if they did we would not have wanted to consume anything there. It was too dark to take pictures without the flash. If you want to see it you can google: J. J. Hough's Banagher. It would be a fun place at night with the music rocking the joint - possibly with a few handi-wipes on hand to wipe off the beer bottles.
Driving a bit further down the street we came to the marina on the Shannon River where we stopped for a picnic of sorts. It was a bit chilly but sunny. Nearby was a large ruined building which must have once been a workhouse or a mill. Turns out it was a workhouse. We roamed around a bit but there was no information posted.
Off again towards Meelick - the townland where an ancient Franciscan Abbey is still a church that is used all the time. We were given a tour by Mikey Horan who has lived in the area all his life. From there we drove, following Mikey, to the ancestral home of a friend's father. The cottage is now used by the family as a holiday home and is over 200 years old, still in the original family. A bit of misunderstanding meant that we missed seeing the little cottage next to Mikey's house, in which he still keeps a turf fire burning so moisture doesn't overcome it. That was the home of his grandmother and was the place Marg intended us to see. Next time.
The GPS and the Autoaddress app on the phone have been very useful in getting around. When I use the GPS I can glance at the screen to see if the instruction to "turn right" means immediately or in a few hundred yards. Well, even when using the GPS I didn't bother to glance at the screen. As a result we made some interesting turns and took a few more because my eye captured something of interest.
Driving through the town of Birr I made a mental note to come back next year and just walk around - it's eye candy. Parts of it reminded me of the Georgian Homes in Dublin and Edinburgh. Then there is Birr Castle - with its immense gates and walls. We didn't take the time to explore but it appears to be a huge parkland and I assume there is still a castle there. Absolutely on the list for next year.
Leaving Birr I'd had a look at the map and a bit of a plan for getting back to Bunclody. Well all plans go astray - especially on these roads with interesting views beckoning. The GPS was nattering away so I sort of paid attention. On a lovely narrow road we looked ahead to see what we thought was a herd of cattle crossing the road. Not so fast. They were coming down the road, towards us. Quickly I pulled to the left and parked, as did the vehicles behind us. A short video I've posted on FB will show you.
Thinking we were headed home on a main-ish road we ended up crossing Slieve Bloom and had the most magnificent views. We were on top of Ireland. From the first viewpoint we could see for miles and miles northwards. A few hundred yards later we could see just as far - looking south. I think we saw bits of Kildare, Galway, Offaly, Laois, Kildare, Tipperary and maybe Kilkenny. But I really have no idea. Needless to say it was spectacular. Pictures only begin to capture it. No decorated Christmas trees on this trip 'over the top'.
Eventually we arrived in Bunclody - after once more missing a turn going through Carlow. I hate that place. Well, that may be a bit strong, but even with directions being spouted at me I have never managed to get directly through on the same route. Sigh.
At Supervalu we picked up a roasted chicken and some salad and I cooked up some rice. Voila- supper. From then until bedtime, it was just a relaxing evening poring over maps and planning the adventures for the next day.
Here's a link to the photos I took.
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/nnmqn6fbsl2v5n5/AAC2V8D_ScVeX_vrherdCGnYa
Today - a slow start. Shortly we'll head to Coolross and Rock Tavern to see and feed some sheep. Maybe some will choose to make their appearance in the world while we're there. It's cold and windy and looks like rain could fall any moment. Best not to have a photoshoot in mind.
Early yesterday morning - very early - I dragged my sleepless self out of bed and got ready for the drive to Dublin Airport. Heather's plane was due at 8:25 and it was on time. I left Bunclody shortly after 7 am and was in the terminal just minutes after the plane landed. We exchanged a few texts before she finally walked out through the gate. I don't think she realized how taxing the first day would be but she's a trooper, despite fatigue.
I'd had about 3 hours of sleep - about 3 more than she had managed on the plane. Being a good sport she was ready for the adventure. Instead of heading towards Bunclody, we set out for Banagher. This is a small town in Co Offaly in the central plains area of Ireland. Reaching it by motorway was easy. The Shannon flows through the town and we headed in that direction - downhill. I had no idea how to find the river but it was obviously not going to be at the top of the hills.
Just before getting there I spied the old pub J J Hough's. It is now quite famous and a tourist destination. To say the interior is seedy and tacky is to offer high praise. I think the curtains were hung about the time that weaving cotton came into fashion. They haven't been washed since either. The tables are small, the seats are either low stools or old armchairs. There is a small bar and there were a few loyal customers. This was Sunday morning - before noon. I guess it was 5 o'clock somewhere. We had a look around, saw the small open fire and left. They don't serve food and even if they did we would not have wanted to consume anything there. It was too dark to take pictures without the flash. If you want to see it you can google: J. J. Hough's Banagher. It would be a fun place at night with the music rocking the joint - possibly with a few handi-wipes on hand to wipe off the beer bottles.
Driving a bit further down the street we came to the marina on the Shannon River where we stopped for a picnic of sorts. It was a bit chilly but sunny. Nearby was a large ruined building which must have once been a workhouse or a mill. Turns out it was a workhouse. We roamed around a bit but there was no information posted.
Off again towards Meelick - the townland where an ancient Franciscan Abbey is still a church that is used all the time. We were given a tour by Mikey Horan who has lived in the area all his life. From there we drove, following Mikey, to the ancestral home of a friend's father. The cottage is now used by the family as a holiday home and is over 200 years old, still in the original family. A bit of misunderstanding meant that we missed seeing the little cottage next to Mikey's house, in which he still keeps a turf fire burning so moisture doesn't overcome it. That was the home of his grandmother and was the place Marg intended us to see. Next time.
The GPS and the Autoaddress app on the phone have been very useful in getting around. When I use the GPS I can glance at the screen to see if the instruction to "turn right" means immediately or in a few hundred yards. Well, even when using the GPS I didn't bother to glance at the screen. As a result we made some interesting turns and took a few more because my eye captured something of interest.
Driving through the town of Birr I made a mental note to come back next year and just walk around - it's eye candy. Parts of it reminded me of the Georgian Homes in Dublin and Edinburgh. Then there is Birr Castle - with its immense gates and walls. We didn't take the time to explore but it appears to be a huge parkland and I assume there is still a castle there. Absolutely on the list for next year.
Leaving Birr I'd had a look at the map and a bit of a plan for getting back to Bunclody. Well all plans go astray - especially on these roads with interesting views beckoning. The GPS was nattering away so I sort of paid attention. On a lovely narrow road we looked ahead to see what we thought was a herd of cattle crossing the road. Not so fast. They were coming down the road, towards us. Quickly I pulled to the left and parked, as did the vehicles behind us. A short video I've posted on FB will show you.
Thinking we were headed home on a main-ish road we ended up crossing Slieve Bloom and had the most magnificent views. We were on top of Ireland. From the first viewpoint we could see for miles and miles northwards. A few hundred yards later we could see just as far - looking south. I think we saw bits of Kildare, Galway, Offaly, Laois, Kildare, Tipperary and maybe Kilkenny. But I really have no idea. Needless to say it was spectacular. Pictures only begin to capture it. No decorated Christmas trees on this trip 'over the top'.
Eventually we arrived in Bunclody - after once more missing a turn going through Carlow. I hate that place. Well, that may be a bit strong, but even with directions being spouted at me I have never managed to get directly through on the same route. Sigh.
At Supervalu we picked up a roasted chicken and some salad and I cooked up some rice. Voila- supper. From then until bedtime, it was just a relaxing evening poring over maps and planning the adventures for the next day.
Here's a link to the photos I took.
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/nnmqn6fbsl2v5n5/AAC2V8D_ScVeX_vrherdCGnYa
Today - a slow start. Shortly we'll head to Coolross and Rock Tavern to see and feed some sheep. Maybe some will choose to make their appearance in the world while we're there. It's cold and windy and looks like rain could fall any moment. Best not to have a photoshoot in mind.
Friday, March 31, 2017
Slowed down by time and the weather
My sojourn in Ireland is quickly drawing to a close. Local travels are almost all set aside for next year - when I plan for a repeat of this winter. Mr weatherman are you paying attention. This winter was mild and not overly wet. Consider this my order for a duplicate next year, please.
The Carnew Drama Festival is on this week - almost over. I've seen two productions and both were wonderful. I found the adjudicator (yep, only one guy not a panel) to be very knowledgeable about the playwrights, the time period enacted, suitable costumes and the finer points of accents and acting. He was excessively picky, in my opinion. Granted, if a performance was truly outstanding he did give the actors their due. And there were many such performances. Many more than he spoke of, IMHO.
Both plays were very compelling and truly worth much more in entertainment value than the 10 Euro ticket price. The final production tomorrow, Agnes of God, I saw a few weeks ago here in Bunclody. That was a practice run. I don't need to see it again. It was fabulous. Good luck to all.
There are a number of drama festivals all over the country. The productions don't only compete in their local areas. A group from Armagh put on last Sunday's production. All of the plays are being staged in mulitple, far flung, locations. If a production wins three festivals, they compete in the national finals. Now THAT would be a festival to take in for sure. Ireland's famous literary history is definitely not underrated.
On Tuesday evening, Ann hosted the Byrne family at the Rock Tavern (that is a place, not a pub) and once again outdid herself with the feast. I'm still licking my lips at the memory of Nancy's Pavlova. It was a wonderful evening with the family. James updated us on the state of the lambing and young Michael informed us that he has pulled 6 (or was it 8) lambs. Quite a feat for this young upcoming farmer.
Wednesday I went off to Arklow for a final get together with the three ladies I first met at preparations for the Gathering, here at Coollattin in 2013. We had a lovely supper at the Arklow Bay Hotel. The weather was lousy but was simply not a factor for us.
It's still on the wet side but I'm making a deal with the weatherman. Rain is fine, up to midnight on Saturday. At that time the clouds should disperse and the rain should go elsewhere. Heather arrives on Sunday morning and we have a lot of touring ahead. It will be so much nicer with nice dry sunny days. So far the outlook is not ideal but it's not too wet. Anyway, we will deal with what we get.
I've done my final laundry, sorted the things that will stay here and done some of my packing - for our touring and the trip home. My plan does not include stuffing my laptop in my checked bag so I hope the current ban on electronics in the cabin is not expanded beyond the airlines and points of origin already noted. Should any security person decide to browse my computer they'd fall asleep in moments unless of course, I've found some of their previously unknown ancestors.
Tomorrow I'll do the final cleanup and if it's dry enough, go for a saunter. I'll try to write updates and we see the sights - both the well known and well hidden.
The Carnew Drama Festival is on this week - almost over. I've seen two productions and both were wonderful. I found the adjudicator (yep, only one guy not a panel) to be very knowledgeable about the playwrights, the time period enacted, suitable costumes and the finer points of accents and acting. He was excessively picky, in my opinion. Granted, if a performance was truly outstanding he did give the actors their due. And there were many such performances. Many more than he spoke of, IMHO.
Both plays were very compelling and truly worth much more in entertainment value than the 10 Euro ticket price. The final production tomorrow, Agnes of God, I saw a few weeks ago here in Bunclody. That was a practice run. I don't need to see it again. It was fabulous. Good luck to all.
There are a number of drama festivals all over the country. The productions don't only compete in their local areas. A group from Armagh put on last Sunday's production. All of the plays are being staged in mulitple, far flung, locations. If a production wins three festivals, they compete in the national finals. Now THAT would be a festival to take in for sure. Ireland's famous literary history is definitely not underrated.
On Tuesday evening, Ann hosted the Byrne family at the Rock Tavern (that is a place, not a pub) and once again outdid herself with the feast. I'm still licking my lips at the memory of Nancy's Pavlova. It was a wonderful evening with the family. James updated us on the state of the lambing and young Michael informed us that he has pulled 6 (or was it 8) lambs. Quite a feat for this young upcoming farmer.
Wednesday I went off to Arklow for a final get together with the three ladies I first met at preparations for the Gathering, here at Coollattin in 2013. We had a lovely supper at the Arklow Bay Hotel. The weather was lousy but was simply not a factor for us.
It's still on the wet side but I'm making a deal with the weatherman. Rain is fine, up to midnight on Saturday. At that time the clouds should disperse and the rain should go elsewhere. Heather arrives on Sunday morning and we have a lot of touring ahead. It will be so much nicer with nice dry sunny days. So far the outlook is not ideal but it's not too wet. Anyway, we will deal with what we get.
I've done my final laundry, sorted the things that will stay here and done some of my packing - for our touring and the trip home. My plan does not include stuffing my laptop in my checked bag so I hope the current ban on electronics in the cabin is not expanded beyond the airlines and points of origin already noted. Should any security person decide to browse my computer they'd fall asleep in moments unless of course, I've found some of their previously unknown ancestors.
Tomorrow I'll do the final cleanup and if it's dry enough, go for a saunter. I'll try to write updates and we see the sights - both the well known and well hidden.
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Out and about in Tipperary, Wicklow and Wexford
The weather has been glorious - not quite warm but sunny and bright and perfect for touring.
Thursday was a nice contrast to Wednesday, with lots of sunny breaks and just the odd bit of rain on the windshield. It was time to go in search of Cabragh. The final outcome was not quite what I'd hoped as far as family history is concerned, but in so many ways it was perfect.
I set my phone app to Holycross Abbey, just south of the city of Thurles, in Tipperary. It's not such a long way. Of course it was necessary to change the route here and there - one gets tired of wide roads after a while. I had taken a look at the map before turning myself over to the voice telling me where to go. Somewhere near the city of Kilkenny the little voice was telling me to turn left. The signpost ahead of me, however, said that Thurles was to the right. OK then - let the sign take over.
A little defiance of the "voice in the box" can be a good thing. The road was pretty nice and the views were lovely. Out of nowhere I came upon a ruin which looked interesting - it was the Kilrush Corn Mill, now completely abandoned. Once I'd taken a couple of photos I turned my attention across the road. There was a rainbow, over the pasture where sheep were grazing. That was my fourth rainbow in three days and worthy of another picture - which I duly posted on Facebook.
Thurles loomed into view but little did I know until a few minutes later, that it was jammed with traffic. There didn't seem to be any particular reason but I felt like I'd been guided there. On the right was a huge beautiful church so to escape the lineup of cars, I wheeled into the parking lot. I'd parked in front of the parish church at Thurles - the very parish of my Loughnane ancestors. A visit to the interior was in order and a lovely church it was.
Coming out again I decided to leave the car where it was and to wander a little. Within a hundred yards I'd found the public library which happens to have a fantastic genealogy library, and two very helpful librarians. I told them what I knew of the Loughnanes - mostly just their names, their townland which also happened to be only about a 20 minute walk from the library as it is now part of the town, and approximate dates. I added all the places I'd looked for information. As it happens I've pretty much exhausted the possible resources but they brought out the Hearth Money Rolls from the late 1600s. Unlikely they even had a hearth so maybe not even listed. The only problem was I had their location for the time around 1800. The gap of 140 years was too large to leap over, to reach conclusions. An old religious census was similarly unhelpful. They were not listed in the local cemeteries - but then, they would probably not have had headstones. Ah well, I tried. I'll review again the parish records online and hope that somehow I'd missed them before.
I had a lovely lunch in the cafe attached to the library and arts centre. Thus fortified, I once again headed to Holycross Abbey. It did not disappoint - a huge ruin of former greatness surrounds what is still a working parish church, one of the oldest still in use. What was even better was the friendly conversation with the parish priest and receptionist in the church office. Sadly not further information turned up.
But then it was back to the pub, the Abbey Inn, where the publican had pointed out the parish office. I went back to the pub and a friendly guy offered to show me the townland of Cabragh where my Loughnanes had once lived. It is now mostly wetland, in fact a fairly well known wetland, and wildlife preserve resides there. This area is flattish and of course low-lying, and there were quite a few horses in pastures. Then there was the light industrial area, adjacent to Thurles, that once housed one of the four sugar mills in Ireland. It processed sugar beets and was a great contributor to the local economy. Once again a thriving industry was killed off in favour of importing cane sugar from abroad.
From there I more or less retraced my route - adding only one short stretch on a local road - and found that it's not only NOT a long way to Tipperary (from Bunclody) it's about the same distance back. What a surprise!
Friday dawned sunny and bright but by this time I was pretty fed up with my haircut which had not grown out nicely. It needed repairs so I called Betsy and got an appointment for 2:30. That pretty much defined how far I could ramble.
Decision made - Ballycarney, Ferns and wherever after that. On the road through Ballycarney is a lovely multi-arched stone bridge. I found a place to leave the car and walked across a ploughed field - kind of like walking in soft sand, and was able to take a few good pics. If you are a FB friend you have seen a couple. Just down the road less than one kilometre, is the house of my dreams. It is a beautiful stone structure with an amazing intricate thatched roof. Also posted to FB but here it is again.
On to Ferns to investigate the castle. Sadly the interpretive centre was closed so guided tours were not available. Happily the gate was open and admission was free. More of the castle remains than I had thought from previous drive-bys. Although interesting now, I don't think I would have cared much for life in a chilly castle, especially with enemy forces trying to get in. Those lovely cross-shaped slits of windows were not for letting in a sliver of light.
Bridge - check! Thatched house - check! Ferns castle - check! Now where? OK - down the road in the opposite direction to where I usually go when heading for Ashford. Before long I was back at the N11, the major road north and south along the east coast. Drat! I'd turned right towards Enniscorthy but figured that since I'd just been there I should have gone the other way, towards Gorey. So, at the next roundabout I simply drove all the way around, and back the way I'd come.
I knew I didn't want to drive through Gorey. It's not a big place but the traffic patterns make navigating Ottawa downtown with the current construction projects, look like a straight road, I knew I didn't want to go there. The solution - set the GPS for Moss Cottage and then turn it on when I'd passed the major roads. Voila - another cross-country adventure.
Wexford is hilly and beautiful. I'm not sure how many more beautiful vistas I can see without my brain exploding. I stopped a couple of times along the little roads. When I turned off the N11 - a wonderful wide highway, it was onto L50711. The more numbers, the smaller the road. I don't think there are any 6 digit roads. This was the other end of the driving spectrum.
I twisted and turned my way along and eventually came back to Bunclody just in time to grab a bit of lunch and then get my hair repaired. That didn't take too long and repairs have been satisfactory. I no longer have to have all photos taken of the back of my head.
Wandering into the local art gallery I had a nice conversation with the owner and artist, John. Then a couple of ladies came in and the conversation included the four of us. This would just never happen in Canada - at least not in the city. The paintings I saw that I liked were too large and too expensive to consider purchasing. I'll go back and see Kathy Doyle's neighbour who paints the local area and find a small souvenir. Maybe today!
Saturday dawned even brighter than Friday and I'd heard from my fellow wanderer and human Energizer Bunny, Marg. Local touring was the order of the day. I did the laundry in the morning and at noon set out for Marg's.
We headed out into the wilds of Monaseed and from there up farther into the hills. We drove and walked and enjoyed the day, stopping here and there to talk to folks as Marg knows everyone. The builder of the Monaseed bug hotel was busy clearing up a little area along the road. Here and there in the area are tiny little "parks". There are a few places with strategically placed picnic tables. My favourite was by the one-arch stone bridge at the Monaseed church.
We walked up a hillside - can't remember the name - and saw the great wall of Wexford. It separates two townlands - Connahill where we were walking, and Annaghill. Well named I must say. There isn't a flat spot to be found. Coming down was easier, faster and one could actually enjoy the views much better.
None of the photos or little videos come close to doing justice to the beauty of this area. The green fields, the hedgerows, rock walls, and flowing hills defy description and depiction.
Marg phoned her friend Martin Whelan and he took us on a tour of the Rosminoge cemetery on his property. It is very old - dating back to the 18th century and possible earlier. The end wall of a small church is still standing and covered with vines. Early histories speak of the church in the 800s.
The headstones vary from being quite grand and intact, to being small and unreadable. Included also are "love stones". Families who could not afford a formal headstone would place a rock on the grave to mark its location. There is no record of burials other than what's on the headstones so we will never know who lies under these love stones.
A brief stop at Craanford Mill completed the day's wanderings and we stopped at the Rock Tavern to visit the Byrnes. I had fun with baby Kate who is a strong little thing and I think she has concrete in her legs. She was all smiles.
As the Carnew Drama Festival got underway on Friday, we took the opportunity to attend Saturday night's production of Juno and the Paycock. It is set in a poor part of Dublin in the early 1920s. I had a bit of a struggle with the accents from time to time, but thoroughly enjoyed the production. It was as good as any professional stage play I've seen. Monday I'll go see Hedda Gabler by Ibsen.
The clocks sprung forward overnight and we shall have later sunsets and more daylight hours to enjoy. Although a bit sleep deprived I will shortly set out for a wander around Altamont Gardens and maybe take a little trip to Rathwood if I can find the right road - but really who cares. Everything is beautiful in its own way...
Downloading and uploading photos takes a long time. I'm going to wimp out and simply put in links to the last two days of photos and you can bore yourself to sleep or skip them entirely.
Trip to Tipperary
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/p5br4y2iya5bexy/AABnvwcIhMCFP65WqqAkDtMIa
Ballycarney, Ferns and backroads
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/qj35f5dd27ju6ke/AAA2cO7eIpww8j_lwbxggVHya
Saturday's Wexford ramblings
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/jev1digsfh9j0w7/AABlpwc4XhY6uBJNk6yNmk-2a
That's all folks!
Thursday was a nice contrast to Wednesday, with lots of sunny breaks and just the odd bit of rain on the windshield. It was time to go in search of Cabragh. The final outcome was not quite what I'd hoped as far as family history is concerned, but in so many ways it was perfect.
I set my phone app to Holycross Abbey, just south of the city of Thurles, in Tipperary. It's not such a long way. Of course it was necessary to change the route here and there - one gets tired of wide roads after a while. I had taken a look at the map before turning myself over to the voice telling me where to go. Somewhere near the city of Kilkenny the little voice was telling me to turn left. The signpost ahead of me, however, said that Thurles was to the right. OK then - let the sign take over.
A little defiance of the "voice in the box" can be a good thing. The road was pretty nice and the views were lovely. Out of nowhere I came upon a ruin which looked interesting - it was the Kilrush Corn Mill, now completely abandoned. Once I'd taken a couple of photos I turned my attention across the road. There was a rainbow, over the pasture where sheep were grazing. That was my fourth rainbow in three days and worthy of another picture - which I duly posted on Facebook.
Thurles loomed into view but little did I know until a few minutes later, that it was jammed with traffic. There didn't seem to be any particular reason but I felt like I'd been guided there. On the right was a huge beautiful church so to escape the lineup of cars, I wheeled into the parking lot. I'd parked in front of the parish church at Thurles - the very parish of my Loughnane ancestors. A visit to the interior was in order and a lovely church it was.
Coming out again I decided to leave the car where it was and to wander a little. Within a hundred yards I'd found the public library which happens to have a fantastic genealogy library, and two very helpful librarians. I told them what I knew of the Loughnanes - mostly just their names, their townland which also happened to be only about a 20 minute walk from the library as it is now part of the town, and approximate dates. I added all the places I'd looked for information. As it happens I've pretty much exhausted the possible resources but they brought out the Hearth Money Rolls from the late 1600s. Unlikely they even had a hearth so maybe not even listed. The only problem was I had their location for the time around 1800. The gap of 140 years was too large to leap over, to reach conclusions. An old religious census was similarly unhelpful. They were not listed in the local cemeteries - but then, they would probably not have had headstones. Ah well, I tried. I'll review again the parish records online and hope that somehow I'd missed them before.
I had a lovely lunch in the cafe attached to the library and arts centre. Thus fortified, I once again headed to Holycross Abbey. It did not disappoint - a huge ruin of former greatness surrounds what is still a working parish church, one of the oldest still in use. What was even better was the friendly conversation with the parish priest and receptionist in the church office. Sadly not further information turned up.
But then it was back to the pub, the Abbey Inn, where the publican had pointed out the parish office. I went back to the pub and a friendly guy offered to show me the townland of Cabragh where my Loughnanes had once lived. It is now mostly wetland, in fact a fairly well known wetland, and wildlife preserve resides there. This area is flattish and of course low-lying, and there were quite a few horses in pastures. Then there was the light industrial area, adjacent to Thurles, that once housed one of the four sugar mills in Ireland. It processed sugar beets and was a great contributor to the local economy. Once again a thriving industry was killed off in favour of importing cane sugar from abroad.
From there I more or less retraced my route - adding only one short stretch on a local road - and found that it's not only NOT a long way to Tipperary (from Bunclody) it's about the same distance back. What a surprise!
Friday dawned sunny and bright but by this time I was pretty fed up with my haircut which had not grown out nicely. It needed repairs so I called Betsy and got an appointment for 2:30. That pretty much defined how far I could ramble.
Decision made - Ballycarney, Ferns and wherever after that. On the road through Ballycarney is a lovely multi-arched stone bridge. I found a place to leave the car and walked across a ploughed field - kind of like walking in soft sand, and was able to take a few good pics. If you are a FB friend you have seen a couple. Just down the road less than one kilometre, is the house of my dreams. It is a beautiful stone structure with an amazing intricate thatched roof. Also posted to FB but here it is again.
On to Ferns to investigate the castle. Sadly the interpretive centre was closed so guided tours were not available. Happily the gate was open and admission was free. More of the castle remains than I had thought from previous drive-bys. Although interesting now, I don't think I would have cared much for life in a chilly castle, especially with enemy forces trying to get in. Those lovely cross-shaped slits of windows were not for letting in a sliver of light.
Bridge - check! Thatched house - check! Ferns castle - check! Now where? OK - down the road in the opposite direction to where I usually go when heading for Ashford. Before long I was back at the N11, the major road north and south along the east coast. Drat! I'd turned right towards Enniscorthy but figured that since I'd just been there I should have gone the other way, towards Gorey. So, at the next roundabout I simply drove all the way around, and back the way I'd come.
I knew I didn't want to drive through Gorey. It's not a big place but the traffic patterns make navigating Ottawa downtown with the current construction projects, look like a straight road, I knew I didn't want to go there. The solution - set the GPS for Moss Cottage and then turn it on when I'd passed the major roads. Voila - another cross-country adventure.
Wexford is hilly and beautiful. I'm not sure how many more beautiful vistas I can see without my brain exploding. I stopped a couple of times along the little roads. When I turned off the N11 - a wonderful wide highway, it was onto L50711. The more numbers, the smaller the road. I don't think there are any 6 digit roads. This was the other end of the driving spectrum.
I twisted and turned my way along and eventually came back to Bunclody just in time to grab a bit of lunch and then get my hair repaired. That didn't take too long and repairs have been satisfactory. I no longer have to have all photos taken of the back of my head.
Wandering into the local art gallery I had a nice conversation with the owner and artist, John. Then a couple of ladies came in and the conversation included the four of us. This would just never happen in Canada - at least not in the city. The paintings I saw that I liked were too large and too expensive to consider purchasing. I'll go back and see Kathy Doyle's neighbour who paints the local area and find a small souvenir. Maybe today!
Saturday dawned even brighter than Friday and I'd heard from my fellow wanderer and human Energizer Bunny, Marg. Local touring was the order of the day. I did the laundry in the morning and at noon set out for Marg's.
We headed out into the wilds of Monaseed and from there up farther into the hills. We drove and walked and enjoyed the day, stopping here and there to talk to folks as Marg knows everyone. The builder of the Monaseed bug hotel was busy clearing up a little area along the road. Here and there in the area are tiny little "parks". There are a few places with strategically placed picnic tables. My favourite was by the one-arch stone bridge at the Monaseed church.
We walked up a hillside - can't remember the name - and saw the great wall of Wexford. It separates two townlands - Connahill where we were walking, and Annaghill. Well named I must say. There isn't a flat spot to be found. Coming down was easier, faster and one could actually enjoy the views much better.
None of the photos or little videos come close to doing justice to the beauty of this area. The green fields, the hedgerows, rock walls, and flowing hills defy description and depiction.
Marg phoned her friend Martin Whelan and he took us on a tour of the Rosminoge cemetery on his property. It is very old - dating back to the 18th century and possible earlier. The end wall of a small church is still standing and covered with vines. Early histories speak of the church in the 800s.
The headstones vary from being quite grand and intact, to being small and unreadable. Included also are "love stones". Families who could not afford a formal headstone would place a rock on the grave to mark its location. There is no record of burials other than what's on the headstones so we will never know who lies under these love stones.
A brief stop at Craanford Mill completed the day's wanderings and we stopped at the Rock Tavern to visit the Byrnes. I had fun with baby Kate who is a strong little thing and I think she has concrete in her legs. She was all smiles.
As the Carnew Drama Festival got underway on Friday, we took the opportunity to attend Saturday night's production of Juno and the Paycock. It is set in a poor part of Dublin in the early 1920s. I had a bit of a struggle with the accents from time to time, but thoroughly enjoyed the production. It was as good as any professional stage play I've seen. Monday I'll go see Hedda Gabler by Ibsen.
The clocks sprung forward overnight and we shall have later sunsets and more daylight hours to enjoy. Although a bit sleep deprived I will shortly set out for a wander around Altamont Gardens and maybe take a little trip to Rathwood if I can find the right road - but really who cares. Everything is beautiful in its own way...
Downloading and uploading photos takes a long time. I'm going to wimp out and simply put in links to the last two days of photos and you can bore yourself to sleep or skip them entirely.
Trip to Tipperary
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/p5br4y2iya5bexy/AABnvwcIhMCFP65WqqAkDtMIa
Ballycarney, Ferns and backroads
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/qj35f5dd27ju6ke/AAA2cO7eIpww8j_lwbxggVHya
Saturday's Wexford ramblings
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/jev1digsfh9j0w7/AABlpwc4XhY6uBJNk6yNmk-2a
That's all folks!
Thursday, March 23, 2017
I'm always chasing rainbows - but so far no pot of golf
On Wednesday, despite the cold and rain, I set out for Enniscorthy. This is a very short trip - just 20 minutes down the road. I had driven around and through on my way to somewhere else so the time had long since arrived to check it out.
It never ceases to amaze me how towns so close together can be so different. Of course the topography determines a lot of how towns develop. I thought Bunclody was hilly but it can't hold a candle to Enniscorthy. The trusty GPS was called into service because of the twists and turns, on hills, that I could never figure out while trying to drive and still read signs. However, the voice from the box, sometimes sounds quite urgent when she says "turn right". Usually I try to turn at the next corner. That's not usually the right place to turn. Unless I consult the map on the device I don't see that it's meant to be 200 meters down the road. I've seen some very nice streets and side roads because of these turns.
With the directions set for the 1798 Rebellion Centre I was determined to find out the stories behind what happened. As the museum says quite directly, it is an interpretation. The interpretation seemed pretty open-minded to me. The incredible conditions under which the mostly Catholic population was suffering, finally impelled them to action. Their weapons were muskets and pike staffs. These could hardly compare with the weapons of the British Forces they opposed.
I will have to do further reading to be able to recount what built over time to be a full uprising. It is heart-wrenching to hear what prisoners suffered - men, women and children - when captured by those loyal to the crown. Forms of torture I would never have imagined were employed to force confessions and revelation of plans.
If you have the opportunity, do visit this centre. You will be impressed with the vibrant presentations which recount this unfortunate (vastly understated) period of Irish history.
When I was ready to leave for a visit to the castle I had planned to walk and get my exercise on the hilly streets. The cold and rain made me rethink that plan. I managed to find parking at Dunne's and decided that my first stop would be to purchase a pair of gloves. I managed to lose the left glove of my only pair. Too bad that neither I nor whoever finds it, can benefit. The search for a replacement pair proved more challenging than expected.
This being Spring, officially, in anticipation of good weather, gloves are no longer being sold in most stores. It's cold, near freezing here and below freezing in other places not too far away. Gloves are a necessity. I went from store to store, in the wind and rain and stopped into a thrift shop. One of the customers overheard my request and said to try DV8 which was right around the corner. Finally some gloves - black fuzzy chenille with large mixed brown cuffed gloves. At least they are reasonably warm, even if they barely fit under the cuffs of my coat. Beggars can't be choosers.
Gloves on hands, I decided to find a hot bowl of soup for lunch. Enniscorthy has cafes and pubs and restaurants the way Seattle has Starbucks. If you have your eyes open you see many choices. I chose the one that was closest. That bowl of sweet potato and carrot soup tasted heavenly.
So fortified I proceeded to the castle. For the second time that day I was the only visitor - or at least the only visitor in any space I occupied. At the 1798 Rebellion Centre I got to listen at every single audio stop. At the castle there was nobody to block my view. And when I got back to the information desk, there were no other tourists. After chatting for a while with the guide, while we waited for the other person on duty to return to staff the desk, he decided I'd waiting long enough. He put up a "back in 5 minutes" sign on the front door and we took the elevator to the second floor. Somewhere in the world there is possibly a slower elevator. It's not anywhere I've ever been. They even have a sign with previous visitors' comments about the (lack of) speed. ex. "I should have put my affairs in order", "I should have brought a book" and other such remarks. Eventually we arrived. I think my hair was a quarter of an inch longer when we got out. Then it was up the stairs to the third floor and out onto the roof. It was worth the long build up - photographically and in terms of the views. You could get a real appreciation of the locations of the various forces back in 1798. Vinegar Hill loomed right there.
My walk back to the car was mostly downhill, steeply, to the river. It was supposed to be about 40 yards to Dunne's. Make that 400+ yards - somewhat uphill. Ah well, it was worth the trip. The drive home was uneventful.
Today it was bright and sunny - when I left here about 10 am. Of course when I tried to return my book to the library I found that it opened at 10:30 today. Grrr. They have no book drop. I had to wait until the return trip and did manage to return it after 5.
So - the destination du jour was Holycross Abbey. It is in Tipperary. Near Thurles. I'd almost gone there on the weekend. Good move to go to Avoca instead at that time. I didn't have company today and it would have been nice to have someone riding shotgun and also keeping an eye out for photo-worthy scenes.
The weather once again changed every few minutes. That old saying that if you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes and it will change, was true again today. Once past Kilkenny I decided to turn the opposite way from what the very patient GPS was "suggesting". It told me to turn left at an intersection. There was a sign to Thurles pointing right. I turned right. Great choice.
To my surprise, on the distant hills there was snow. I was later to find out that there was quite a bit of snow around Thurles yesterday. It has melted in town - the hills still look ready for skiers. There was also a rainbow, over a field of sheep. I had to get that on film. That was my fourth rainbow in three days. Still could not get to the end, although I was close yesterday, so missed the pot of gold again.
Thurles, was supposed to be merely a waypoint on the way to the abbey. It's a very busy town and has an immense and beautiful church. I pulled into the churchyard, which turned out to be a great place to park. Turns out that was the church that my Loughnane ancestors would have attended. Just down the street I found the public library, in a lovely new building alonside the Suir river. It has a genealogy section. It has very helpful staff. It has some unique resources. What it doesn't have is any information that would have given me more information about the Loughnanes. Such records don't exist. They have some records dating back to the 1600s - but one simply can't jump 200 years and figure you've got the same family. Ah well - having been assured that I've found as much as I'm ever likely to find, I went away happy.
Then I drove the last few miles to Holycross Abbey. Wow! It is immense. Much of it is in ruins but the abbey itself has been well restored and is an active parish church. I got to meet the parish priest who happened to walk into the office as I was chatting with the receptionist. Lovely folks. Fr Tierney just happened to have a book of the old church records in his hand. Sadly it was of no help - wrong church and the records started too late for my search.
I stopped briefly at the Abbey Inn Pub and asked directions to Cabragh, the town land of the Loughnanes. Fr Tierney had said that it is now more or less on the edges of Thurles and once was the site of one of only four sugar (beet) factories, a couple of centuries before. That's all gone now. However, a friendly chap in the pub said to follow his car and he pointed out the Cabragh wetlands and the area around the former factory. So - I have pictures of the townland. Much of it is swampy and the rest is light industrial.
By that time I had to head back home. Tonight is story-telling at St Aiden's hall down the street. I find that a lovely evening. It's cosy around the fire and the stories and music are great. And so ends another day.
Pictures at another time.
It never ceases to amaze me how towns so close together can be so different. Of course the topography determines a lot of how towns develop. I thought Bunclody was hilly but it can't hold a candle to Enniscorthy. The trusty GPS was called into service because of the twists and turns, on hills, that I could never figure out while trying to drive and still read signs. However, the voice from the box, sometimes sounds quite urgent when she says "turn right". Usually I try to turn at the next corner. That's not usually the right place to turn. Unless I consult the map on the device I don't see that it's meant to be 200 meters down the road. I've seen some very nice streets and side roads because of these turns.
With the directions set for the 1798 Rebellion Centre I was determined to find out the stories behind what happened. As the museum says quite directly, it is an interpretation. The interpretation seemed pretty open-minded to me. The incredible conditions under which the mostly Catholic population was suffering, finally impelled them to action. Their weapons were muskets and pike staffs. These could hardly compare with the weapons of the British Forces they opposed.
I will have to do further reading to be able to recount what built over time to be a full uprising. It is heart-wrenching to hear what prisoners suffered - men, women and children - when captured by those loyal to the crown. Forms of torture I would never have imagined were employed to force confessions and revelation of plans.
If you have the opportunity, do visit this centre. You will be impressed with the vibrant presentations which recount this unfortunate (vastly understated) period of Irish history.
When I was ready to leave for a visit to the castle I had planned to walk and get my exercise on the hilly streets. The cold and rain made me rethink that plan. I managed to find parking at Dunne's and decided that my first stop would be to purchase a pair of gloves. I managed to lose the left glove of my only pair. Too bad that neither I nor whoever finds it, can benefit. The search for a replacement pair proved more challenging than expected.
This being Spring, officially, in anticipation of good weather, gloves are no longer being sold in most stores. It's cold, near freezing here and below freezing in other places not too far away. Gloves are a necessity. I went from store to store, in the wind and rain and stopped into a thrift shop. One of the customers overheard my request and said to try DV8 which was right around the corner. Finally some gloves - black fuzzy chenille with large mixed brown cuffed gloves. At least they are reasonably warm, even if they barely fit under the cuffs of my coat. Beggars can't be choosers.
Gloves on hands, I decided to find a hot bowl of soup for lunch. Enniscorthy has cafes and pubs and restaurants the way Seattle has Starbucks. If you have your eyes open you see many choices. I chose the one that was closest. That bowl of sweet potato and carrot soup tasted heavenly.
So fortified I proceeded to the castle. For the second time that day I was the only visitor - or at least the only visitor in any space I occupied. At the 1798 Rebellion Centre I got to listen at every single audio stop. At the castle there was nobody to block my view. And when I got back to the information desk, there were no other tourists. After chatting for a while with the guide, while we waited for the other person on duty to return to staff the desk, he decided I'd waiting long enough. He put up a "back in 5 minutes" sign on the front door and we took the elevator to the second floor. Somewhere in the world there is possibly a slower elevator. It's not anywhere I've ever been. They even have a sign with previous visitors' comments about the (lack of) speed. ex. "I should have put my affairs in order", "I should have brought a book" and other such remarks. Eventually we arrived. I think my hair was a quarter of an inch longer when we got out. Then it was up the stairs to the third floor and out onto the roof. It was worth the long build up - photographically and in terms of the views. You could get a real appreciation of the locations of the various forces back in 1798. Vinegar Hill loomed right there.
My walk back to the car was mostly downhill, steeply, to the river. It was supposed to be about 40 yards to Dunne's. Make that 400+ yards - somewhat uphill. Ah well, it was worth the trip. The drive home was uneventful.
Today it was bright and sunny - when I left here about 10 am. Of course when I tried to return my book to the library I found that it opened at 10:30 today. Grrr. They have no book drop. I had to wait until the return trip and did manage to return it after 5.
So - the destination du jour was Holycross Abbey. It is in Tipperary. Near Thurles. I'd almost gone there on the weekend. Good move to go to Avoca instead at that time. I didn't have company today and it would have been nice to have someone riding shotgun and also keeping an eye out for photo-worthy scenes.
The weather once again changed every few minutes. That old saying that if you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes and it will change, was true again today. Once past Kilkenny I decided to turn the opposite way from what the very patient GPS was "suggesting". It told me to turn left at an intersection. There was a sign to Thurles pointing right. I turned right. Great choice.
To my surprise, on the distant hills there was snow. I was later to find out that there was quite a bit of snow around Thurles yesterday. It has melted in town - the hills still look ready for skiers. There was also a rainbow, over a field of sheep. I had to get that on film. That was my fourth rainbow in three days. Still could not get to the end, although I was close yesterday, so missed the pot of gold again.
Thurles, was supposed to be merely a waypoint on the way to the abbey. It's a very busy town and has an immense and beautiful church. I pulled into the churchyard, which turned out to be a great place to park. Turns out that was the church that my Loughnane ancestors would have attended. Just down the street I found the public library, in a lovely new building alonside the Suir river. It has a genealogy section. It has very helpful staff. It has some unique resources. What it doesn't have is any information that would have given me more information about the Loughnanes. Such records don't exist. They have some records dating back to the 1600s - but one simply can't jump 200 years and figure you've got the same family. Ah well - having been assured that I've found as much as I'm ever likely to find, I went away happy.
Then I drove the last few miles to Holycross Abbey. Wow! It is immense. Much of it is in ruins but the abbey itself has been well restored and is an active parish church. I got to meet the parish priest who happened to walk into the office as I was chatting with the receptionist. Lovely folks. Fr Tierney just happened to have a book of the old church records in his hand. Sadly it was of no help - wrong church and the records started too late for my search.
I stopped briefly at the Abbey Inn Pub and asked directions to Cabragh, the town land of the Loughnanes. Fr Tierney had said that it is now more or less on the edges of Thurles and once was the site of one of only four sugar (beet) factories, a couple of centuries before. That's all gone now. However, a friendly chap in the pub said to follow his car and he pointed out the Cabragh wetlands and the area around the former factory. So - I have pictures of the townland. Much of it is swampy and the rest is light industrial.
By that time I had to head back home. Tonight is story-telling at St Aiden's hall down the street. I find that a lovely evening. It's cosy around the fire and the stories and music are great. And so ends another day.
Pictures at another time.
Monday, March 20, 2017
Four seasons in one day in Wexford
When I set out this morning to renew the rental car agreement in Wexford I would never have imagined how today would have unfolded. Wow! So let me start at 8 am. It is now 13 hours later and I can hardly believe how they slid by.
At 8 am the alarm woke me up and got me going. I had less than an hour to get up, organized and out. I managed to get out right on schedule. Despite the overcast skies, the game was on.
After topping up the gas tank, (should that read diesel tank?) I headed once more down the Bunclody to Carnew Rd. and on towards Gorey. Waiting at her gate was my partner in adventure - Marg Gilbert. We were both warmly dressed, had an overcoat or raincoat, and our phone cameras were recharged and ready. I was wearing old sneakers, had hiking boots and wellies in the trunk, and Marg brought along some old sneakers. We never bothered changing footwear but I would have had good reason to use them all at some point.
The drive to Wexford, to renew the car, was uneventful and I got to enjoy the scenery around Ballycanew for the first time. Once the papers were signed, I had Hertz top up the air in the left back tire. The warning light had come on a few minutes before our arrival. So, off we went. Thirty minutes later, closing in on Kilmore Quay, the warning came on again. I called Hertz and back we went and had them repair the tire. They also drove through the car wash and I was pleased to see the paint again, instead of mud. By the end of today that turned out to have been of temporary use.
The sun was shining on Wexford and we enjoyed tootling around the town for the second time. The lovely google lady gave great directions and we found ourselves in the village of Kilmore. We stopped to take photos of remarkable homes with beautifully thatched roofs. Once out of the car, and by now it was after 1 pm, we decided to stop in Mary Barry's for lunch. I enjoyed the seafood cakes with salad and chips. Well, one cake, because I brought the second one home. Yummy.
Thus fortified we headed farther down the road to Kilmore Quay where we found even more lovely thatched roofs, spectacular sea views, the working fishing boats. More walking and more photos. A short drive later we came to a sea view parking lot and we were stunned to see the amazing beach that seemed to stretch forever, a Memorial garden without flowers, dedicated to those lost at sea, a wonderful old fixer-upper boat and oops - the blue sky was quickly being replaced by the black clouds that had seemed far away.
When we jumped back into the car it was spitting rain. By the time the doors were closed it was absolutely lashing the car. Within minutes the rain had eased up, we could see the sunshine returning, and there was a spectacular rainbow over a castle. It had gotten outrageously windy and that pretty much followed us around. But, with the sunshine back and the rain reduced to a few drops, off we went on a narrow road, following the coast.
The main feature on the horizon had been the giant wind turbines but eagle eyed Marg spotted a little thatched roof ruin which was for sale. U-turn!!. The intrepid Margaret opened the gate - securely fastened with something resembling a shoe lace and we explored the yard and old outbuildings. The cottage itself had been long abandoned and the entrance was blocked by a rock, a barrel, a few crossed wooden staves - no barrier at all to Wonder Marg! So we explored a bit and later mused about the old lady we decided was the probable last occupant.
From there (where were we?? who knows?) we headed for Curracloe Beach - site of the opening scene of 'Saving Private Ryan' and also featured in 'Brooklyn' for the parts set in Ireland. We had sun, rain, cloud and wind en route. We climbed the dunes blocking the beach from the parking lot and wandered on the sand and to the edge of the sea. More photo ops.
Once more, we made it back to the car just in time to avoid another soaking. Our timing was so good we couldn't believe it. Stopping for a latte and a scone in Curracloe, by making a quick wrong turn when leaving (Ann? wrong turn? lol - the story of my life) we had a nice little tour of Glenbough and Screen.
The final destination was a walking trail near Courtown, and when we were almost there, made a quick left off the highway and went in search of the Kilbride High Cross. Bingo - no problem, there it was. Wonder Marg headed farther down the trail looking for "the bridge". When she called out that it was in sight, I followed her lead. Beautiful in the fading light. What from above seemed just like part of the highway, was in fact one of the oldest high arch bridges in the country.
The climb back up to the car was somewhat less fun - and once again just in time to avoid the rain. It was rather muddy underfoot but we didn't care.
Finally on the way home via Gorey, the pouring rain turned briefly to snow. That pretty much concluded our tour of the four seasons today. There were little patches of snow on the ground along the road. The overnight forecast is for freezing temperatures. That's fine - the cottage is warm.
Can't download the pics now because the phone needs charging. I will add them later and you can check back tomorrow. Sorry.
At 8 am the alarm woke me up and got me going. I had less than an hour to get up, organized and out. I managed to get out right on schedule. Despite the overcast skies, the game was on.
After topping up the gas tank, (should that read diesel tank?) I headed once more down the Bunclody to Carnew Rd. and on towards Gorey. Waiting at her gate was my partner in adventure - Marg Gilbert. We were both warmly dressed, had an overcoat or raincoat, and our phone cameras were recharged and ready. I was wearing old sneakers, had hiking boots and wellies in the trunk, and Marg brought along some old sneakers. We never bothered changing footwear but I would have had good reason to use them all at some point.
The drive to Wexford, to renew the car, was uneventful and I got to enjoy the scenery around Ballycanew for the first time. Once the papers were signed, I had Hertz top up the air in the left back tire. The warning light had come on a few minutes before our arrival. So, off we went. Thirty minutes later, closing in on Kilmore Quay, the warning came on again. I called Hertz and back we went and had them repair the tire. They also drove through the car wash and I was pleased to see the paint again, instead of mud. By the end of today that turned out to have been of temporary use.
The sun was shining on Wexford and we enjoyed tootling around the town for the second time. The lovely google lady gave great directions and we found ourselves in the village of Kilmore. We stopped to take photos of remarkable homes with beautifully thatched roofs. Once out of the car, and by now it was after 1 pm, we decided to stop in Mary Barry's for lunch. I enjoyed the seafood cakes with salad and chips. Well, one cake, because I brought the second one home. Yummy.
Thus fortified we headed farther down the road to Kilmore Quay where we found even more lovely thatched roofs, spectacular sea views, the working fishing boats. More walking and more photos. A short drive later we came to a sea view parking lot and we were stunned to see the amazing beach that seemed to stretch forever, a Memorial garden without flowers, dedicated to those lost at sea, a wonderful old fixer-upper boat and oops - the blue sky was quickly being replaced by the black clouds that had seemed far away.
When we jumped back into the car it was spitting rain. By the time the doors were closed it was absolutely lashing the car. Within minutes the rain had eased up, we could see the sunshine returning, and there was a spectacular rainbow over a castle. It had gotten outrageously windy and that pretty much followed us around. But, with the sunshine back and the rain reduced to a few drops, off we went on a narrow road, following the coast.
View from the Quay back towards the village
You can just see the dark clouds coming to dim the sparkling sea
Memorial Garden for those lost at sea - rain approaching
Our reward for waiting out the pouring rain was this magnificent rainbow - picture doesn't do it justice
This is the castle we saw just to the right of the rainbow's end - by the time we got there the pot of gold must have already been claimed
The main feature on the horizon had been the giant wind turbines but eagle eyed Marg spotted a little thatched roof ruin which was for sale. U-turn!!. The intrepid Margaret opened the gate - securely fastened with something resembling a shoe lace and we explored the yard and old outbuildings. The cottage itself had been long abandoned and the entrance was blocked by a rock, a barrel, a few crossed wooden staves - no barrier at all to Wonder Marg! So we explored a bit and later mused about the old lady we decided was the probable last occupant.
As the driver I hadn't spotted this but Marg has a watchful eye for the ancient and unusual
Sad to see the remnants of a life abandoned this way
The roof is trying to repair itself after a long abandonment
From there (where were we?? who knows?) we headed for Curracloe Beach - site of the opening scene of 'Saving Private Ryan' and also featured in 'Brooklyn' for the parts set in Ireland. We had sun, rain, cloud and wind en route. We climbed the dunes blocking the beach from the parking lot and wandered on the sand and to the edge of the sea. More photo ops.
Once more, we made it back to the car just in time to avoid another soaking. Our timing was so good we couldn't believe it. Stopping for a latte and a scone in Curracloe, by making a quick wrong turn when leaving (Ann? wrong turn? lol - the story of my life) we had a nice little tour of Glenbough and Screen.
The final destination was a walking trail near Courtown, and when we were almost there, made a quick left off the highway and went in search of the Kilbride High Cross. Bingo - no problem, there it was. Wonder Marg headed farther down the trail looking for "the bridge". When she called out that it was in sight, I followed her lead. Beautiful in the fading light. What from above seemed just like part of the highway, was in fact one of the oldest high arch bridges in the country.
The climb back up to the car was somewhat less fun - and once again just in time to avoid the rain. It was rather muddy underfoot but we didn't care.
Finally on the way home via Gorey, the pouring rain turned briefly to snow. That pretty much concluded our tour of the four seasons today. There were little patches of snow on the ground along the road. The overnight forecast is for freezing temperatures. That's fine - the cottage is warm.
Can't download the pics now because the phone needs charging. I will add them later and you can check back tomorrow. Sorry.
Saturday, March 18, 2017
No more all day sunshine
Well the weather has become somewhat more typical - just in time for the rush of lamb arrivals - but not cold. It's a bit more grey and a bit more misty but far from being rainy. And most days the sun makes the briefest of appearances.
I have managed to wander among a few more byways and always admire the endless vistas of green hills and hedgerows. I never tire of the fabulous scenery. Now that my time is drawing to a close, I'm trying to take as many little side trips as I can.
So let me think, what has transpired since my last epistle? Ah yes - the graveyard to which I have no connection!
Tom Farrell has been busy with the chain saw in the old Linkardstown graveyard. It is located on property adjacent to his. His merry band of history enthusiasts have spent countless hours unearthing the headstones and table-stone monuments in the very old graveyard. I was invited on a tour so I packed up the wellies and some heavy socks and off I went.
We drove to the Dowlings yard to save a bit of a walk, and having greeted John and told him our purpose for the day, we set out. Well, after we traded sneakers for rubber boots (the famous wellies) we set out from the yard, enclosed almost entirely with sturdy stone buildings dating from the late 18th century. I believe their initial purpose was to serve as stables. Apparently the buildings to house animals were constructed of the finest stone and built to last. That aim was achieved. Roofs have been replaced but the walls are original. Houses, however, were thrown up from whatever rocks were lying about and could be stuck together. That's a bit of an exaggeration but not much. Why stables survived and houses have not, has now been explained.
We walked across tilled and seeded fields, now with about 6 inches of new growth. I thought it was some sort of grass - farmer, I am not. Tom suggested it was likely barley or oats. Stomping along the tractor marks in our gumboots we had stunning views of the Blackstairs Mountains in one direction and a row of lower hills in the other. There was a bit of a plain between them. All of these various hills and mountains create micro-climates, resulting in the "if you don't like it wait 5 minutes" weather that one experiences here. The south-east of Ireland is the driest part. Question to self: so why is it you are planning a trip to the wettest part in a couple of weeks? The raincoat has proven its worth, no need to put it to the ultimate test.
Anyway, after crossing from one field to another I looked around and saw what I thought at first was the ruin of a house surrounded by a stone fence. Nope - it was our destination. The graveyard wall is more or less intact and the ruin I first saw is what's left of the church or chapel that once served the area. Not much remains, but man-made stone formations indicated that it was once of a pretty good size. As I'd heard recently, the graveyard itself was quite a lot higher than the area outside the stone walls. The reason is that the ground is very hard, possibly full of granite rock, so graves cannot be dug too deep. The coffin is put into the ground as low as can be dug and then sod and dirt is piled on top. Over the years - in this case about 250 years - the ground rises up to meet you.
If you are not careful where you walk, your face may go quickly down, to meet the ground coming up at you. The clean up crew did a fantastic job of sawing away the old trees and shrubs and nettles and what-all, to reveal many headstones. Although the inscriptions are difficult to read, they had all been transcribed long ago by Ronnie Shorten, who once lived on, or near, the property. The wood is very much inclined to keep growing and a multitude of shoots are threatening to undo all the work. Pretty soon the weed-killer will be brought in to stop further regrowth.
Then begins the task of photographing all of the headstones and making the photos and inscriptions available on historicgraves.com. I'm certain that once this has been completed, some genealogist is going to hear the sound of a brick wall falling. I certainly hope so.
By the end of our visit, the sun was in the process of heading elsewhere. If you happen to see it, we'd be pleased to have it back. It's now been a few days.
Friday of course was St Paddy's Day and I joined the Byrne crew in Carnew for the parade. I picked up Kathy Doyle and we went to Jim Byrne's pub for a hot cuppa, as it was definitely weather calling for hot beverages and roaring fires. The fire warmed but didn't exactly roar. Mairead and her children were there, nicely face-painted in the national colours, and enjoyed a few usually-forbidden treats. The first of which was being allowed in the pub for this annual visit.
The parade itself featured the Aughrim marching band for openers, followed by a number of floats, groups of local sports clubs, reps of the local drama society, antique tractors and a few older autos.
Thereafter, Kathy and I adjourned to another pub for lunch. It seemed too early to call it a day so Kathy became the navigator du jour. We went to Annacurra via Tomacork - it's all about the route with the best views.
After paying respects to Kathy's husband and son in the cemetery, we drove up the steep hill for a different route home. I wish I could remember the names of the places we passed. Well worth the detour - especially the parts around Kilcavin.
Today I arranged with Marg, now released from the nun's habit as worn in the parade, for her company on Monday, when I drive to Wexford to renew the car rental. She suggested a few Wexford highlights that we will visit to fill out that day. One place I'd like to go is Vinegar Hill - very important in the 1798 Rebellion.
OK - a bit of educating Ann is required. Off I drove to the 1798 Rebellion Centre to learn the story. Well I really should pay more attention to details on the websites I find. It was closed, but having already driven to Enniscorthy and decided that the castle was on too busy a street and too steep a hill to go back there, I checked the route to Kiltealy and I was underway again.
The drive was beautiful - again because of the long views, that were this time obscured by very low clouds. It was like driving close to heaven. Photos just don't do it justice. I took a few roads less travelled, snapped a few pictures, and headed for Clohamon. This is a village very near Bunclody, but it has a beautiful 5 arch stone bridge that reminds me of the one in Pakenham at home. It is also home to three of the most magnificent Magnolia trees I've ever seen. Picture time again.
I spent quite a bit of time chatting on FB messenger with Jake this evening - a young Fitzpatrick connection - and have a few new ideas of searching for our elusive Patrick. That brick wall is just getting higher. Should it ever fall, the torrent of information could be amazing.
That pretty much brings you up to date on my doings. I'll dig around for some pictures to stuff between the paragraphs.
Tomorrow I'm off to Thurles in Tipperary, en route to Cabragh whence came our Loughnane ancestors. They are all lurking somewhere around there - I hope. It is also very close to Holy Cross monastery on the Ireland's Ancient East list of places to see - so we shall also see that while we're in the neighbourhood. Kathy D is once more joining me as she has never been there - so a first for both of us.
Details to follow.
I have managed to wander among a few more byways and always admire the endless vistas of green hills and hedgerows. I never tire of the fabulous scenery. Now that my time is drawing to a close, I'm trying to take as many little side trips as I can.
So let me think, what has transpired since my last epistle? Ah yes - the graveyard to which I have no connection!
Tom Farrell has been busy with the chain saw in the old Linkardstown graveyard. It is located on property adjacent to his. His merry band of history enthusiasts have spent countless hours unearthing the headstones and table-stone monuments in the very old graveyard. I was invited on a tour so I packed up the wellies and some heavy socks and off I went.
We drove to the Dowlings yard to save a bit of a walk, and having greeted John and told him our purpose for the day, we set out. Well, after we traded sneakers for rubber boots (the famous wellies) we set out from the yard, enclosed almost entirely with sturdy stone buildings dating from the late 18th century. I believe their initial purpose was to serve as stables. Apparently the buildings to house animals were constructed of the finest stone and built to last. That aim was achieved. Roofs have been replaced but the walls are original. Houses, however, were thrown up from whatever rocks were lying about and could be stuck together. That's a bit of an exaggeration but not much. Why stables survived and houses have not, has now been explained.
We walked across tilled and seeded fields, now with about 6 inches of new growth. I thought it was some sort of grass - farmer, I am not. Tom suggested it was likely barley or oats. Stomping along the tractor marks in our gumboots we had stunning views of the Blackstairs Mountains in one direction and a row of lower hills in the other. There was a bit of a plain between them. All of these various hills and mountains create micro-climates, resulting in the "if you don't like it wait 5 minutes" weather that one experiences here. The south-east of Ireland is the driest part. Question to self: so why is it you are planning a trip to the wettest part in a couple of weeks? The raincoat has proven its worth, no need to put it to the ultimate test.
Anyway, after crossing from one field to another I looked around and saw what I thought at first was the ruin of a house surrounded by a stone fence. Nope - it was our destination. The graveyard wall is more or less intact and the ruin I first saw is what's left of the church or chapel that once served the area. Not much remains, but man-made stone formations indicated that it was once of a pretty good size. As I'd heard recently, the graveyard itself was quite a lot higher than the area outside the stone walls. The reason is that the ground is very hard, possibly full of granite rock, so graves cannot be dug too deep. The coffin is put into the ground as low as can be dug and then sod and dirt is piled on top. Over the years - in this case about 250 years - the ground rises up to meet you.If you are not careful where you walk, your face may go quickly down, to meet the ground coming up at you. The clean up crew did a fantastic job of sawing away the old trees and shrubs and nettles and what-all, to reveal many headstones. Although the inscriptions are difficult to read, they had all been transcribed long ago by Ronnie Shorten, who once lived on, or near, the property. The wood is very much inclined to keep growing and a multitude of shoots are threatening to undo all the work. Pretty soon the weed-killer will be brought in to stop further regrowth.
Then begins the task of photographing all of the headstones and making the photos and inscriptions available on historicgraves.com. I'm certain that once this has been completed, some genealogist is going to hear the sound of a brick wall falling. I certainly hope so.
By the end of our visit, the sun was in the process of heading elsewhere. If you happen to see it, we'd be pleased to have it back. It's now been a few days.
Friday of course was St Paddy's Day and I joined the Byrne crew in Carnew for the parade. I picked up Kathy Doyle and we went to Jim Byrne's pub for a hot cuppa, as it was definitely weather calling for hot beverages and roaring fires. The fire warmed but didn't exactly roar. Mairead and her children were there, nicely face-painted in the national colours, and enjoyed a few usually-forbidden treats. The first of which was being allowed in the pub for this annual visit.
The parade itself featured the Aughrim marching band for openers, followed by a number of floats, groups of local sports clubs, reps of the local drama society, antique tractors and a few older autos.
Thereafter, Kathy and I adjourned to another pub for lunch. It seemed too early to call it a day so Kathy became the navigator du jour. We went to Annacurra via Tomacork - it's all about the route with the best views.
church at Tomacork
Today I arranged with Marg, now released from the nun's habit as worn in the parade, for her company on Monday, when I drive to Wexford to renew the car rental. She suggested a few Wexford highlights that we will visit to fill out that day. One place I'd like to go is Vinegar Hill - very important in the 1798 Rebellion.
OK - a bit of educating Ann is required. Off I drove to the 1798 Rebellion Centre to learn the story. Well I really should pay more attention to details on the websites I find. It was closed, but having already driven to Enniscorthy and decided that the castle was on too busy a street and too steep a hill to go back there, I checked the route to Kiltealy and I was underway again.
The drive was beautiful - again because of the long views, that were this time obscured by very low clouds. It was like driving close to heaven. Photos just don't do it justice. I took a few roads less travelled, snapped a few pictures, and headed for Clohamon. This is a village very near Bunclody, but it has a beautiful 5 arch stone bridge that reminds me of the one in Pakenham at home. It is also home to three of the most magnificent Magnolia trees I've ever seen. Picture time again.
The Mall on main street Bunclody - on my daily walk
I spent quite a bit of time chatting on FB messenger with Jake this evening - a young Fitzpatrick connection - and have a few new ideas of searching for our elusive Patrick. That brick wall is just getting higher. Should it ever fall, the torrent of information could be amazing.
That pretty much brings you up to date on my doings. I'll dig around for some pictures to stuff between the paragraphs.
Tomorrow I'm off to Thurles in Tipperary, en route to Cabragh whence came our Loughnane ancestors. They are all lurking somewhere around there - I hope. It is also very close to Holy Cross monastery on the Ireland's Ancient East list of places to see - so we shall also see that while we're in the neighbourhood. Kathy D is once more joining me as she has never been there - so a first for both of us.
Details to follow.
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Ho hum another sunny day in the Emerald Isle
The weather has been spectacular. Every day is mostly sunny - quite typical for Ireland of course. The land of endless sunshine. LOL My umbrella and wellies are feeling quite neglected. Darn!
I've tried to get out to explore some new nook or cranny every day this week because it's too lovely to be indoors. It's not actually warm but a fleece jacket over a t-shirt is sufficient. Sunglasses should be kept nearby. Camera (or phone) batteries should be fully charged. The current rental vehicle has a USB port so I'm always fully charged - or rather my devices are.
Yesterday's adventure took me farther afield than usual. I had the notion to drive over the Sally Gap - just to investigate whether it was a good route to take if I pick someone up at the airport and bring them back here to Moss Cottage. (Mary G. are you paying attention for next winter?). More details in a few paragraphs. There are perfectly wonderful motorways between Dublin airport and my little nook, but that gets boring.
So, having had my usual leisurely start to the day - well, OK, late start - I picked up my trusty book "Ireland's Ancient East" and made a stab at a destination. I've been marking off the table of contents as I visit places and cross them off my list. Russborough House it would be. This is a spectacular mansion, in fabulous condition, where you can actually tour the inside. [Note to self, get up earlier so you're not late for the tours.] It was to be the jump off point for the Sally Gap over the top of Co Wicklow.
From in front of that gate (above) is the view I saw (below)
And the grand front entrance of Russborough House
For anyone planning to come to Ireland and make maximum use of a smart phone, install the app "Autoaddress". I'm going to rely on it totally next time and leave the GPS at home. You just open this app, search for the destination you want - in my case Russborough House - and when it presents the list of possible options, you just click on it, the address and Eir Code (postal or zip code) is part of that now, then you save the destination as a favourite, give it a name and possible other contact info. Then when you want to set off you just choose from the favourites and click on directions and press the arrow when you want to go. It then uses google navigation and tells you where to go - nicely.
As it happened, I didn't need any sort of navigational device to get to Russborough, I just had to stick to the N80 and the N81. Those are great highways, and traffic moves along nicely. That's fine for a while but I'm easily bored. I no longer think that one should always take the best road. I'm getting to the point where there is no longer a "road not taken".
And that is why, despite an easy direct route somewhere, I always have the trusty app to guide me. I think I'll call the voice Eirann. Wait, what? that's already taken? Who cares. Eirann she is. You see, Eirann tells me how long to drive, when to turn, etc. I don't want her to get complacent and do want her to be as familiar with the byways as I am. So, as I follow a direct route I sometimes notice a sign with an interesting name or place I've heard of, so I just turn off. Leaving the wide motorway for a narrow road, sometimes without a centre line, and sometimes a complete boreen (look at previous posts, I've already defined it) I just follow my nose. Eirann has to keep up. Keeps her sharp.
So, I took a hard right, almost a U-turn to an uphill grade and followed a lovely road with spectacular pastoral views. Fortunately there were no oncoming trucks or tractors at the time. Eventually I got back to the N81 and ended up, as planned, at Russborough House. You pay 2 Euro to park and can freely wander the grounds. The view is possibly the most expansive and pastoral I've seen yet. The green fields were even scattered with sheep and a few lambs, for the finishing touch. On the way in before the final turn, was a majestic lake. I was not able to see a sign to identify it and due to the traffic and lack of place to pull over, didn't get any pictures. From the front of the big house you don't really see the lake too well.
I had missed the final house tour by an hour. This is the off season and tours are only on at 1 and 2 pm. So I wandered around a bit. There's a lovely children's playground and a maze at the back. A number of artisans work in parts of what was probably the stables at some point long ago. In one there are some gorgeous items made of Irish marble. Wicklow marble is lovely and is 420 million years old. You can buy a pair of square tea light holders for 55 Euro. I left them there. They also use the green Connemara marble, even older at 750 million years, but years ago I'd bought earrings, a pendant and a ring in Connemara marble so left those items alone also.
When I left Russborough I did take a few minutes to look at the map. I was close to the road to the Sally Gap although not quite certain where it started. Not to be deterred, this time I decided to explore without the help of Eirann. She was at the ready, as was the GPS with the coordinates for "home" but they got to relax offline.
Not really knowing where to turn off, I knew I had to head to Blessington. What a lovely town that seems to be - at least as much as one can appreciate a place where you slow down but don't stop. Not far out of town I saw a sign pointing to Roundwood which I knew to be "at the other end of the desired road" so off I wheeled. Eirann was given the rest of the day off.
Only a couple of KMs later there was a sharp left to "Sally Gap" and I was on my way. What a breathtaking ride it was. Fortunately for me, my breath was taken by the scenery and not the fact that it had been struck by fog or low clouds. Over the top of the Wicklow mountains I went and the scenery became quite rocky, almost barren in places and others were covered with heather - not in bloom.
I still wasn't really sure of the right road and I came upon a crossroads at the top. To the right was Laragh, and that I knew was at Glendalough. Ta-da. Off I went in what I knew to be the right direction. Being that high up I could see the road snaking around in front of me and had lots of warning of vehicles coming at me. There were a few, and a few motorcycles. Then around a corned was a decorated Christmas tree. I'd been driving quite slowly and opposite the tree was a sort of parking lot and I pulled in. I was able to get a few shots of the trees. Later investigation said that this had been done a few years ago and nobody came back for the shiny balls and tinsel garlands so they continue to provide a surprise to drivers.
On top of County Wicklow - towards the Sally Gap
a bit out of season but quite a delight to come across
and a few feet away - it's buddy
From there back home was a lovely winding drive through tall woods and dense forests which later gave way to the usual green panoramas as I made my way to Aughrim. Thence I sailed home along great roads - in other words they had centre lines. The last part of the journey was a bit tricky as I was driving due west just before sunset.
At six thirty PM it was getting dark and I was hungry so instead of coming home to forage for edibles in the fridge I stopped at Mick the Chippers, down the street. I picked up an order of fish and chips. Not until I got home and emptied the rather heavy insulated paper bag, did I realize I'd just bought enough for 3 meals. Yay - two more evenings without cooking, although I will add a vegetable tonight.
Today I joined Kathy Doyle for dinner at 12:30 at the Carnew Community Care Centre where she lives. We had vegetable soup, a roast lamb dinner with two kinds of potatoes (I think there's an unwritten rule here that you must serve at least two varieties of spuds per meal), and loads of veggies. I could not finish my plate. My neighbours around the table - ranging in age up to 95 - all had seconds of something. Dessert was vanilla cake with custard.
I stayed as Kathy played "45" with a couple of our table mates. I can't figure it out. They played for matches - very high stakes. Well, shortly after 2 pm, tea and biscuits were served. I could still barely move from dinner, so I took my leave.
after lunch - a game of "45"
After picking up a few veggies, some milk and a pretty bunch of tulips at Aldi, I came back to the cottage in time for a Skype call with friends. What a lovely day. I didn't go anywhere new. It's almost 6 pm, still bright and the birds are chirping away. Delightful. Now I'll dig up some photos and fit them in here and there.
and this is what I see when I walk out the front door
I've tried to get out to explore some new nook or cranny every day this week because it's too lovely to be indoors. It's not actually warm but a fleece jacket over a t-shirt is sufficient. Sunglasses should be kept nearby. Camera (or phone) batteries should be fully charged. The current rental vehicle has a USB port so I'm always fully charged - or rather my devices are.
Yesterday's adventure took me farther afield than usual. I had the notion to drive over the Sally Gap - just to investigate whether it was a good route to take if I pick someone up at the airport and bring them back here to Moss Cottage. (Mary G. are you paying attention for next winter?). More details in a few paragraphs. There are perfectly wonderful motorways between Dublin airport and my little nook, but that gets boring.
So, having had my usual leisurely start to the day - well, OK, late start - I picked up my trusty book "Ireland's Ancient East" and made a stab at a destination. I've been marking off the table of contents as I visit places and cross them off my list. Russborough House it would be. This is a spectacular mansion, in fabulous condition, where you can actually tour the inside. [Note to self, get up earlier so you're not late for the tours.] It was to be the jump off point for the Sally Gap over the top of Co Wicklow.
From in front of that gate (above) is the view I saw (below)
And the grand front entrance of Russborough House
For anyone planning to come to Ireland and make maximum use of a smart phone, install the app "Autoaddress". I'm going to rely on it totally next time and leave the GPS at home. You just open this app, search for the destination you want - in my case Russborough House - and when it presents the list of possible options, you just click on it, the address and Eir Code (postal or zip code) is part of that now, then you save the destination as a favourite, give it a name and possible other contact info. Then when you want to set off you just choose from the favourites and click on directions and press the arrow when you want to go. It then uses google navigation and tells you where to go - nicely.
As it happened, I didn't need any sort of navigational device to get to Russborough, I just had to stick to the N80 and the N81. Those are great highways, and traffic moves along nicely. That's fine for a while but I'm easily bored. I no longer think that one should always take the best road. I'm getting to the point where there is no longer a "road not taken".
And that is why, despite an easy direct route somewhere, I always have the trusty app to guide me. I think I'll call the voice Eirann. Wait, what? that's already taken? Who cares. Eirann she is. You see, Eirann tells me how long to drive, when to turn, etc. I don't want her to get complacent and do want her to be as familiar with the byways as I am. So, as I follow a direct route I sometimes notice a sign with an interesting name or place I've heard of, so I just turn off. Leaving the wide motorway for a narrow road, sometimes without a centre line, and sometimes a complete boreen (look at previous posts, I've already defined it) I just follow my nose. Eirann has to keep up. Keeps her sharp.
So, I took a hard right, almost a U-turn to an uphill grade and followed a lovely road with spectacular pastoral views. Fortunately there were no oncoming trucks or tractors at the time. Eventually I got back to the N81 and ended up, as planned, at Russborough House. You pay 2 Euro to park and can freely wander the grounds. The view is possibly the most expansive and pastoral I've seen yet. The green fields were even scattered with sheep and a few lambs, for the finishing touch. On the way in before the final turn, was a majestic lake. I was not able to see a sign to identify it and due to the traffic and lack of place to pull over, didn't get any pictures. From the front of the big house you don't really see the lake too well.
I had missed the final house tour by an hour. This is the off season and tours are only on at 1 and 2 pm. So I wandered around a bit. There's a lovely children's playground and a maze at the back. A number of artisans work in parts of what was probably the stables at some point long ago. In one there are some gorgeous items made of Irish marble. Wicklow marble is lovely and is 420 million years old. You can buy a pair of square tea light holders for 55 Euro. I left them there. They also use the green Connemara marble, even older at 750 million years, but years ago I'd bought earrings, a pendant and a ring in Connemara marble so left those items alone also.
When I left Russborough I did take a few minutes to look at the map. I was close to the road to the Sally Gap although not quite certain where it started. Not to be deterred, this time I decided to explore without the help of Eirann. She was at the ready, as was the GPS with the coordinates for "home" but they got to relax offline.
Not really knowing where to turn off, I knew I had to head to Blessington. What a lovely town that seems to be - at least as much as one can appreciate a place where you slow down but don't stop. Not far out of town I saw a sign pointing to Roundwood which I knew to be "at the other end of the desired road" so off I wheeled. Eirann was given the rest of the day off.
Only a couple of KMs later there was a sharp left to "Sally Gap" and I was on my way. What a breathtaking ride it was. Fortunately for me, my breath was taken by the scenery and not the fact that it had been struck by fog or low clouds. Over the top of the Wicklow mountains I went and the scenery became quite rocky, almost barren in places and others were covered with heather - not in bloom.
I still wasn't really sure of the right road and I came upon a crossroads at the top. To the right was Laragh, and that I knew was at Glendalough. Ta-da. Off I went in what I knew to be the right direction. Being that high up I could see the road snaking around in front of me and had lots of warning of vehicles coming at me. There were a few, and a few motorcycles. Then around a corned was a decorated Christmas tree. I'd been driving quite slowly and opposite the tree was a sort of parking lot and I pulled in. I was able to get a few shots of the trees. Later investigation said that this had been done a few years ago and nobody came back for the shiny balls and tinsel garlands so they continue to provide a surprise to drivers.
On top of County Wicklow - towards the Sally Gap
a bit out of season but quite a delight to come across
and a few feet away - it's buddy
From there back home was a lovely winding drive through tall woods and dense forests which later gave way to the usual green panoramas as I made my way to Aughrim. Thence I sailed home along great roads - in other words they had centre lines. The last part of the journey was a bit tricky as I was driving due west just before sunset.
At six thirty PM it was getting dark and I was hungry so instead of coming home to forage for edibles in the fridge I stopped at Mick the Chippers, down the street. I picked up an order of fish and chips. Not until I got home and emptied the rather heavy insulated paper bag, did I realize I'd just bought enough for 3 meals. Yay - two more evenings without cooking, although I will add a vegetable tonight.
Today I joined Kathy Doyle for dinner at 12:30 at the Carnew Community Care Centre where she lives. We had vegetable soup, a roast lamb dinner with two kinds of potatoes (I think there's an unwritten rule here that you must serve at least two varieties of spuds per meal), and loads of veggies. I could not finish my plate. My neighbours around the table - ranging in age up to 95 - all had seconds of something. Dessert was vanilla cake with custard.
I stayed as Kathy played "45" with a couple of our table mates. I can't figure it out. They played for matches - very high stakes. Well, shortly after 2 pm, tea and biscuits were served. I could still barely move from dinner, so I took my leave.
after lunch - a game of "45"
After picking up a few veggies, some milk and a pretty bunch of tulips at Aldi, I came back to the cottage in time for a Skype call with friends. What a lovely day. I didn't go anywhere new. It's almost 6 pm, still bright and the birds are chirping away. Delightful. Now I'll dig up some photos and fit them in here and there.
and this is what I see when I walk out the front door
Monday, March 13, 2017
Sunday with the neighbours
The weather was lovely so a day-trip was in order. Leighlinbridge is not too far away so I asked my landlords if they'd like to join me for a little drive. Well, not only did they join me, but Brian did the driving. Wonderful - I could finally get a good look at the scenery. And - boy was it worth a look.
We went first to Leighlinbridge where we stopped at a large gorgeous garden centre cum shopping centre cum cafe. It's a larger version of Rathwood.
The flowers were gorgeous - I couldn't get over the beautiful primrose plants with their blooms in bright primary colours as well some more subdued hues.
We enjoyed our soup and bread and coffee and walked around the centre. There are lovely gardens with sculptures of many creatures. The shiny silver alligator (crocodile perhaps?) lurking in the bushes was quite a nice change from the live brown ones lurking on Florida golf courses.
Then we drove into the village and walked around and along the river. There's a castle ruin, some lovely monuments and of course the River Barrow. There is a trail alongside the river where you can walk on lovely flat (maybe rather muddy) tracks for miles and miles. We could have walked to Athy where I'd seen another bridge with another castle. It is more than a mile up the way so we declined. Horses used to pull barges along the river, using ropes attached to them on shore. Hence the trails. Cyclists want them made easier to ride but I hope the walkers win.
From there we drove to Graignamunnagh (or something like that) and parked again alongside the Barrow. Wandering through the town, which would be magnificent if some funds could be found to tart up a couple of the buildings, we came to the abbey. It has been reconstructed from a 13th century ruin. It is now a "working church" and also home to concerts. A side door, almost hidden, leads down a few steps to a processional door through which the Cistercian Monks would have entered in procession to pray. There are still glimpses to be seen of the original medieval tiles, through a glass tile in the floor. There is a tiny grate beside this 'window' and people toss coins and even paper money, through the grate. This rather obscures the old tiles but you can still see the fleur de lis design. Restoration was accomplished over a long period of time in several phases. It's a real wonder to see.
We drove on to Ullard and a ruined church - or so it seemed. There were lovely views through the vacant windows and surprisingly enough a fresh grave in the interior of the ruin. The graveyard is outside but the family must have had longstanding rights to be able to use the interior. Walking around the outside to the back of the church a large Celtic cross looms into view. We stopped to watch some frolicking baby lambs in the field next door.
Well, around the corner from the cross - all very ancient and mostly missing the original carvings long since worn off, there is what appears to be a more recent concrete wall. Well - lo and behold an old handball court. This is a first. It doesn't seem have been used in quite a long time but there it is.
From there it was homeward via beautiful hilly roads with wonderful views of the Blackstairs Mountains. I missed a presentation at the library on the action of German planes in the Blackstairs during WWII. Ireland was neutral and they should not have been there. There was one isolated house on the vast hillside and by some evil luck to the inhabitants, it was struck with a German bomb.
Eventually we wended our way along the road from Kiltealy through Kilmyshall and back home. Mary invited me to join them for supper - and it was wonderful. We chatted happily and got onto the subject of genealogy. How does this keep happening? Anyway, I had the laptop with me to show Brian photos of a the large cork oak tree in Shillelagh and somehow we landed in ancestry.com. Even managed to get a couple of new people for them. Wunderbar - another couple of families to search.
So - I've been up for a while and the clouds have turned to sun so I think I'll have to go see Russborough House at Blessington. TTFN
We went first to Leighlinbridge where we stopped at a large gorgeous garden centre cum shopping centre cum cafe. It's a larger version of Rathwood.
The flowers were gorgeous - I couldn't get over the beautiful primrose plants with their blooms in bright primary colours as well some more subdued hues.
We enjoyed our soup and bread and coffee and walked around the centre. There are lovely gardens with sculptures of many creatures. The shiny silver alligator (crocodile perhaps?) lurking in the bushes was quite a nice change from the live brown ones lurking on Florida golf courses.
Then we drove into the village and walked around and along the river. There's a castle ruin, some lovely monuments and of course the River Barrow. There is a trail alongside the river where you can walk on lovely flat (maybe rather muddy) tracks for miles and miles. We could have walked to Athy where I'd seen another bridge with another castle. It is more than a mile up the way so we declined. Horses used to pull barges along the river, using ropes attached to them on shore. Hence the trails. Cyclists want them made easier to ride but I hope the walkers win.
From there we drove to Graignamunnagh (or something like that) and parked again alongside the Barrow. Wandering through the town, which would be magnificent if some funds could be found to tart up a couple of the buildings, we came to the abbey. It has been reconstructed from a 13th century ruin. It is now a "working church" and also home to concerts. A side door, almost hidden, leads down a few steps to a processional door through which the Cistercian Monks would have entered in procession to pray. There are still glimpses to be seen of the original medieval tiles, through a glass tile in the floor. There is a tiny grate beside this 'window' and people toss coins and even paper money, through the grate. This rather obscures the old tiles but you can still see the fleur de lis design. Restoration was accomplished over a long period of time in several phases. It's a real wonder to see.
We drove on to Ullard and a ruined church - or so it seemed. There were lovely views through the vacant windows and surprisingly enough a fresh grave in the interior of the ruin. The graveyard is outside but the family must have had longstanding rights to be able to use the interior. Walking around the outside to the back of the church a large Celtic cross looms into view. We stopped to watch some frolicking baby lambs in the field next door.
Well, around the corner from the cross - all very ancient and mostly missing the original carvings long since worn off, there is what appears to be a more recent concrete wall. Well - lo and behold an old handball court. This is a first. It doesn't seem have been used in quite a long time but there it is.
From there it was homeward via beautiful hilly roads with wonderful views of the Blackstairs Mountains. I missed a presentation at the library on the action of German planes in the Blackstairs during WWII. Ireland was neutral and they should not have been there. There was one isolated house on the vast hillside and by some evil luck to the inhabitants, it was struck with a German bomb.
Eventually we wended our way along the road from Kiltealy through Kilmyshall and back home. Mary invited me to join them for supper - and it was wonderful. We chatted happily and got onto the subject of genealogy. How does this keep happening? Anyway, I had the laptop with me to show Brian photos of a the large cork oak tree in Shillelagh and somehow we landed in ancestry.com. Even managed to get a couple of new people for them. Wunderbar - another couple of families to search.
So - I've been up for a while and the clouds have turned to sun so I think I'll have to go see Russborough House at Blessington. TTFN
Saturday, March 11, 2017
Slow times in the travel department
Hello dear readers
I have been up to my ears in genealogy of late and what I have been doing is of little interest to anyone else I'm sure.
The Byrne line has probably gotten as far back as I'll ever be able to take it. There are simply no records left unexplored of these lowly sub-tenants on the Fitzwilliam Estate. Where they were before that place will be forever lost in the mists of time. The Kehoes remain hidden under rocks, even less willing to be found.
I met on Tuesday with my researcher, John O'Neill, and he's been trolling the offerings at various places in Dublin - Archives, Registry of Deeds, Valuation office - and he has found a couple of things. There are documents en route and they should arrive in Monday's mail. The postal system here functions quite fast, compared to home where one has to factor in storage time for mail. Heaven forbid you should get a letter in a couple of days. Spending three days in Dublin would be vastly more costly than hiring John and he knows where to go and how to directly access the desired documents and manuscripts.
So - I have created large amounts of paper messes. In fact, one of my foremost skills is doing just that. The amount of desk space I have here is limited, as is storage, so my endeavours are on display at all times. It is not impressive from an organized point of view. At mealtime I clear a bit of the table surface, just enough for the placemat and dinner plate.
Weather has been grey and rather damp although I did manage a couple of walks into town. My supply of Vitamin D has been replenished at a local health food store so the lack of sun should not cause me to suffer from rickets. Actually I have no idea what vitamin deficiency causes rickets but it sounded about right.
The logistics of what I shall leave and what I shall take home is also picking away at the back of my brain. The one thing that has to be figured out is how to deal with the allergy serum. I have to keep it refrigerated and use a cold pack when traveling to and from the clinic where I get the shots. The last one will be on March 30th. The following week I will be travelling about the country - south and west mostly, ending up in Dublin then flying home. I can't take the stuff with me but have to have it for the return flight. What to do? Still thinking. I have a place to leave it but how and when to retrieve it is yet undetermined.
I think my brain will explode if I don't put aside the genealogy for a bit. Tomorrow's weather forecast is looking pretty nice, so I am planning an outing to Leighlinbridge. It is a very picturesque village and worth some wandering around, so unless something dramatic intervenes I shall go there and drink in the views. Monday, perhaps a venture up Sliabh Bhui (Sleeve wee) where I'm told you get a 360 degree view on a clear day. Dry does not necessarily mean clear but there should be some sun so fingers crossed.
No photos have been taken this past week so nothing to share, but tomorrow should bring an update with pictures.
Slan
I have been up to my ears in genealogy of late and what I have been doing is of little interest to anyone else I'm sure.
The Byrne line has probably gotten as far back as I'll ever be able to take it. There are simply no records left unexplored of these lowly sub-tenants on the Fitzwilliam Estate. Where they were before that place will be forever lost in the mists of time. The Kehoes remain hidden under rocks, even less willing to be found.
I met on Tuesday with my researcher, John O'Neill, and he's been trolling the offerings at various places in Dublin - Archives, Registry of Deeds, Valuation office - and he has found a couple of things. There are documents en route and they should arrive in Monday's mail. The postal system here functions quite fast, compared to home where one has to factor in storage time for mail. Heaven forbid you should get a letter in a couple of days. Spending three days in Dublin would be vastly more costly than hiring John and he knows where to go and how to directly access the desired documents and manuscripts.
So - I have created large amounts of paper messes. In fact, one of my foremost skills is doing just that. The amount of desk space I have here is limited, as is storage, so my endeavours are on display at all times. It is not impressive from an organized point of view. At mealtime I clear a bit of the table surface, just enough for the placemat and dinner plate.
Weather has been grey and rather damp although I did manage a couple of walks into town. My supply of Vitamin D has been replenished at a local health food store so the lack of sun should not cause me to suffer from rickets. Actually I have no idea what vitamin deficiency causes rickets but it sounded about right.
The logistics of what I shall leave and what I shall take home is also picking away at the back of my brain. The one thing that has to be figured out is how to deal with the allergy serum. I have to keep it refrigerated and use a cold pack when traveling to and from the clinic where I get the shots. The last one will be on March 30th. The following week I will be travelling about the country - south and west mostly, ending up in Dublin then flying home. I can't take the stuff with me but have to have it for the return flight. What to do? Still thinking. I have a place to leave it but how and when to retrieve it is yet undetermined.
I think my brain will explode if I don't put aside the genealogy for a bit. Tomorrow's weather forecast is looking pretty nice, so I am planning an outing to Leighlinbridge. It is a very picturesque village and worth some wandering around, so unless something dramatic intervenes I shall go there and drink in the views. Monday, perhaps a venture up Sliabh Bhui (Sleeve wee) where I'm told you get a 360 degree view on a clear day. Dry does not necessarily mean clear but there should be some sun so fingers crossed.
No photos have been taken this past week so nothing to share, but tomorrow should bring an update with pictures.
Slan
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
Not quite a boreen!
Say what? a boreen? That's the Irish term for a road so isolated and narrow there's a grass strip growing in the middle. I drove on roads in the fog earlier this evening that were narrow and winding and just a step up from a boreen. There was pavement but no centre line. Luckily there was no need for a centre line because my luck held and I did not meet another car either going up or coming back down.
It was much more exciting driving up. There was the anticipation of the event. There was the pouring rain - always nice while driving. There was the thick fog - so thick that using my high beams made visibility worse. But the trusty app "Autoaddress" got me right to the destination.
This app is made specifically for driving in Ireland. As long as you have google maps on your smart phone, and I believe it's pretty much always included, you are good to get to anywhere you want - even on a boreen. I love that word.
So, you open the app, type your destination in the search bar (I put in House of Stories Ballyduff) and it finds the exact spot on the map and gives you the Eir Code - like a postal or zip code. Save it as a favourite, give it a name and add other details if desired. Ta-da. You are ready to roll. Same voice as the google lady telling you where to go - very very nicely.
This beats using a GPS because I'm not usually going to an address like we know in North America, like a street number and street name in a given town or city. I won't bother to bring the GPS next year - the phone will have to shoulder the directional burden.
Well, I got to the House of Stories in back of beyond in the dense fog. I was even on time. Because it was already dark I couldn't see exactly what it looked like but you could tell it was a white washed cottage with a red door and a thatched roof. Here it is:
http://www.storiesfromthehearth.ie/?page_id=12
Inside the fire was lit and catching nicely. The chairs were in place, including the rocker beside the fire, and all had cushions. I declined to occupy the rocker.
Paul opened the evening with a quick overview for newcomers - I was one of only a few and had indeed come the farthest if you think of my coming from Canada. He opened with a song and an explanation of the 'stick'. The stick is passed around and he who holds it holds the floor. When it comes to you there is no obligation to tell a story, sing a song, recite a poem, read something, etc. But this evening everyone did. I told the story of the 4 little old ladies driving at 22 kph. If I haven't told you that joke (I did embellish a little to make it into more of a story) remind me the next time we're together. It was well received.
Using my lovely guidance system I was able to easily navigate the way home. Actually I probably could have done it without a voice providing instructions. Aside from the "rural route" which had few alternatives on which to get lost (even for me), I'm very familiar with the route.
I had met John O'Neill in Greystones for lunch and commissioned some research in Dublin. He is familiar with the archives, library, registry of deeds and valuation office and can accomplish in a short time what would take me a long time.
I was supposed to get an allergy shot but got a phone call while in The Burnaby Pub in Greystones, that the doctor had been called away on an emergency. They won't administer allergy shots unless there is a doctor present in case of a bad reaction. I've never had a bad reaction and the office is in a medical building practically bustling with medical personnel and a pharmacy well loaded with epi-pens. However, I now have an appointment for tomorrow morning at 9:45. and the clinic is an hour's drive away. That is if the weather is good, road conditions are fine and there are no traffic tie ups. I shall depart here 90 minutes before the appointment just to be sure.
After that I'll drive back to the Rocktavern and Tom Byrne is going to take me to Three Wells near Aughrim to see where his uncle Pat used to live. I will also catch up on some family news and stories during our journey.
Thursday evening I shall become educated about the Hedge Rows of Ireland and their ecological contribution and actually why they need to be there. They mark off every field and line all the roads, or at least the rural ones. That's on at the library so if it's not raining I'll walk. Parking there is very limited - five cars. Of course there may be fewer than 5 of us being enlightened that evening.
So what did I do last week that went unreported? If I had a good memory I could probably tell you. Let me think a moment. Ah yes - the talk in Castledermot. Well worth the journey and I learned how to pronounce Teach. You probably think that is the verb meaning "instruct" and that I should be able to pronounce it. Hah! Not in Irish it's not. The community centre in Castledermot is Teach Diarmada. Dermot's House. Teach is pronounced, more or less, "cheock".
Clem Roche gave a great talk on the various resources one could/should use to compile the family history if you were from that area. My Fennells are from a location quite nearby so I was all ears. I learned a few new things - mostly that I'd hire John O, so I did that today.
It was a lovely group of people and I enjoyed chatting with several of them after the meeting. It was Pancake Tuesday so they had chocolate crepes. Yum! I certainly had not made myself any pancakes.
On Wednesday afternoon I met with Ronnie Shorten, a woman who has documented her family history beautifully and from what I could tell, completely. Of course, they were pretty much all from that area and she had the benefit of access to the church registers for years. Now, nobody can access the registers themselves. Some churches have printed indexes, some just point you to the National Library in Dublin for microfilm, the smart ones remind you that the registers are now online for free, and some just ignore requests. Ronnie has put together photos, documents, letters and records and certificates into very elegant scrap books. I hope to be able to produce something as lovely for my family.
We had a wonderful afternoon, after which I went to the Farrell's home for supper and conversation around the fireplace.
And so dear readers, we are pretty much caught up. Let me just dig up a photo or two for illustration and then I'll leave you for now.
It was much more exciting driving up. There was the anticipation of the event. There was the pouring rain - always nice while driving. There was the thick fog - so thick that using my high beams made visibility worse. But the trusty app "Autoaddress" got me right to the destination.
This app is made specifically for driving in Ireland. As long as you have google maps on your smart phone, and I believe it's pretty much always included, you are good to get to anywhere you want - even on a boreen. I love that word.
So, you open the app, type your destination in the search bar (I put in House of Stories Ballyduff) and it finds the exact spot on the map and gives you the Eir Code - like a postal or zip code. Save it as a favourite, give it a name and add other details if desired. Ta-da. You are ready to roll. Same voice as the google lady telling you where to go - very very nicely.
This beats using a GPS because I'm not usually going to an address like we know in North America, like a street number and street name in a given town or city. I won't bother to bring the GPS next year - the phone will have to shoulder the directional burden.
Well, I got to the House of Stories in back of beyond in the dense fog. I was even on time. Because it was already dark I couldn't see exactly what it looked like but you could tell it was a white washed cottage with a red door and a thatched roof. Here it is:
http://www.storiesfromthehearth.ie/?page_id=12
Inside the fire was lit and catching nicely. The chairs were in place, including the rocker beside the fire, and all had cushions. I declined to occupy the rocker.
Paul opened the evening with a quick overview for newcomers - I was one of only a few and had indeed come the farthest if you think of my coming from Canada. He opened with a song and an explanation of the 'stick'. The stick is passed around and he who holds it holds the floor. When it comes to you there is no obligation to tell a story, sing a song, recite a poem, read something, etc. But this evening everyone did. I told the story of the 4 little old ladies driving at 22 kph. If I haven't told you that joke (I did embellish a little to make it into more of a story) remind me the next time we're together. It was well received.
Using my lovely guidance system I was able to easily navigate the way home. Actually I probably could have done it without a voice providing instructions. Aside from the "rural route" which had few alternatives on which to get lost (even for me), I'm very familiar with the route.
I had met John O'Neill in Greystones for lunch and commissioned some research in Dublin. He is familiar with the archives, library, registry of deeds and valuation office and can accomplish in a short time what would take me a long time.
I was supposed to get an allergy shot but got a phone call while in The Burnaby Pub in Greystones, that the doctor had been called away on an emergency. They won't administer allergy shots unless there is a doctor present in case of a bad reaction. I've never had a bad reaction and the office is in a medical building practically bustling with medical personnel and a pharmacy well loaded with epi-pens. However, I now have an appointment for tomorrow morning at 9:45. and the clinic is an hour's drive away. That is if the weather is good, road conditions are fine and there are no traffic tie ups. I shall depart here 90 minutes before the appointment just to be sure.
After that I'll drive back to the Rocktavern and Tom Byrne is going to take me to Three Wells near Aughrim to see where his uncle Pat used to live. I will also catch up on some family news and stories during our journey.
Thursday evening I shall become educated about the Hedge Rows of Ireland and their ecological contribution and actually why they need to be there. They mark off every field and line all the roads, or at least the rural ones. That's on at the library so if it's not raining I'll walk. Parking there is very limited - five cars. Of course there may be fewer than 5 of us being enlightened that evening.
So what did I do last week that went unreported? If I had a good memory I could probably tell you. Let me think a moment. Ah yes - the talk in Castledermot. Well worth the journey and I learned how to pronounce Teach. You probably think that is the verb meaning "instruct" and that I should be able to pronounce it. Hah! Not in Irish it's not. The community centre in Castledermot is Teach Diarmada. Dermot's House. Teach is pronounced, more or less, "cheock".
Clem Roche gave a great talk on the various resources one could/should use to compile the family history if you were from that area. My Fennells are from a location quite nearby so I was all ears. I learned a few new things - mostly that I'd hire John O, so I did that today.
It was a lovely group of people and I enjoyed chatting with several of them after the meeting. It was Pancake Tuesday so they had chocolate crepes. Yum! I certainly had not made myself any pancakes.
On Wednesday afternoon I met with Ronnie Shorten, a woman who has documented her family history beautifully and from what I could tell, completely. Of course, they were pretty much all from that area and she had the benefit of access to the church registers for years. Now, nobody can access the registers themselves. Some churches have printed indexes, some just point you to the National Library in Dublin for microfilm, the smart ones remind you that the registers are now online for free, and some just ignore requests. Ronnie has put together photos, documents, letters and records and certificates into very elegant scrap books. I hope to be able to produce something as lovely for my family.
We had a wonderful afternoon, after which I went to the Farrell's home for supper and conversation around the fireplace.
And so dear readers, we are pretty much caught up. Let me just dig up a photo or two for illustration and then I'll leave you for now.
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