Martin arrived to pick us up and delivered today’s newspaper headline: “The 2016 Rising!” It is implying that the election is as monumental as the 1916 Easter Rising when Ireland declared their independence from England. Basically, the current government has been thrown out, and a new government will take its place. Martin’s #1 vote won the election. It signals that a new, better era is about to start. The results will not be final for another day, and then the hard job of forming a coalition government will begin.
As we get under way, today’s sounds – Rose of Tralee is filling the air. This will be our last day full day of experiencing Ireland. We headed north and stopped in Adare, a romantic get away for the Irish and a popular tourists stop due to its preserved thatched homes and shops built in the 1830’s. It is obvious that preserving the small, quaint village ambiance is a challenge in the face of the tourist tsunami. Thatched roofs are becoming much less common because of the expense of up-keep, and the high cost of insurance – they burn easily – two of the cottages burned down last year. They are now raising money to rebuild them. Roofers who are skilled in thatching roofs are few, to the point that the government has provided financial incentives and training to retain this skill.
Thatch Roofed Cottages
Artistic Thatched Roof
Mass was just completing at the Holy Trinity Abbey church as we stopped. We watched as parishioners filed out from their third Sunday of Lent service, bringing with them a whiff of incense while the church bells were ringing. The church’s original sections were built in the 13th century and then enlarged in the 19th century – a beautiful setting and interior.
Holy Trinity Abbey In Adere
Holy Trinity Abbey
Later we passed through Limerick that was originally settled in the 9th century and is presently the 3rd largest city in Ireland with about 100,000 people. Given that it was Sunday morning, the city was still. Nothing but a few churches showed activity. We did stop at the Frank McCourt Museum, but unfortunately it would not open until after noon. Frank McCourt is the Pulitzer Prize winning author for his memoir Angela’s Ashes, published in 1996. It describes his early years growing up in Limerick. It is a life of a family, abandoned by an alcoholic father, immersed in poverty and deprivation. His mother, Angela, and three brothers struggled to survive in the worst of conditions by begging in the streets of Limerick. The book delivers a realistic and poignant sketch of life in a poverty stricken country brought on by 800 years of terrible things imposed by the British. We have observed, read, and heard much over the last 8 days – all consistent with the conditions described in the book. McCourt’s story captures the impact on a personal level.
Frank McCort Museum
Driving further north, we reach the Cliffs of Moher, the key stop for the day. As I heard a young boy describe them: “Awesome!” These vertical cliffs, over 600 feet in height drop straight down the ocean. The position of the sun and the moving clouds continue to change the look continuously, revealing other features that weren’t noticeable a minute earlier. The photos below can tell the story of the Cliffs.
Cliffs Of Moher
Watch Tower Overlooking The Cliffs Of Moher
Cliffs Of Moher
Cliffs Of Moher
Waves Breaking On The Cliffs Of Moher
The Cliffs of Moher is the most popular tourist attraction in Ireland. To enjoy them, forget about serenity, or hearing the ocean or birds. Droves of people talking in different languages, an accordion and a recorder player, filling the sound space with some Irish ditty over and over, in the hope of visitors tossing a coin into their hat, prevents any quiet, reflective moment. One needs to focus his eyes, hearing, and mind through a cone to get a momentary sense of the grandeur. To their credit, they have really tried to minimize the invasiveness of the various structures. The sheer volume of tourists overwhelms their best efforts. The surrounding area is dotted with vacation homes and B&B’s, very noticeable because of the lack of trees and vegetation. The almost complete lack of soil prevents anything other than grass-like plants to survive.
Continuing on we passed through Doolin village, recognized as the center of traditional Irish music. Even this time of year, we could not find a place to park. People everywhere. Imagine summertime!
Community Water Well In Burren Area
Famine Home – Abandoned
A short distance beyond Doolin Village, we entered the Burren National Park. It is about 100 square miles of barren looking karst landscape. It appears as a complete anomaly of what we’ve seen so far. We thought it looked like lava flow, but it was grey and had lines of cracks running orthogonally throughout. In many areas plants struggled thru the cracks to become a source of food for livestock roaming freely. Water is scarce, but there is a public well that was available for residents long ago. We saw several ‘famine’ homes. These stone homes were abandoned during the famine because of lack of food.
Dromoland Castle
Driving To Check Into Our Castle Home
Inside Of The Castle – A Maze
Finally we reached our destination for the night, Dromoland Castle, where we spend the night. As they say “The castle is our home!” or is it the other way around? The tower dates back to the 15th century, but the building as we see it today was completed in 1835. The castle was purchased by Bernard McDonough (an American industrialist of Irish decent) in 1962, renovated, and opened as a 5-star hotel and golf course. Since we seem to be following notables, let me drop the names of some others that have stayed here: Bill Clinton, George W., Bono, among many. It was getting dark and serious rain had started as we arrived, so we didn’t get a chance to walk and explore the grounds. We had to settle for a traditional glass of Middleton Irish Whiskey and fire in their lounge.
A Glass Of Middleton Irish Whiskey Is On Its Way
The Finale Dinner In The Dromoland Castle
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