The Whole Gang's Here

The party awoke reasonably early, considering two of its members had a serious time change to overcome, and ate breakfast at the B&B. Though I don't remember exactly, I'd wager a hefty sum that it was a full Irish breakfast, which is one of the many things I really miss about Ireland. There's just no better way to greet the new day than tea, eggs, sausage (real link sausage), bacon, beans, pudding (which I never did develop a taste for), and a roasted tomato. After checking out of our B&B, we hit the road for the famed Blarney castle. I have to admit, I wasn't very excited about this part of the trip, since I expected Blarney to be some overblown, overcrowded, overpriced tourist attraction. I kept that to myself, though, which turned out to be good because Blarney castle was well worth seeing. We were there out of season, so it wasn't too crowded, and the grounds are spectacular, if not so spectacular as they're cracked up to be.








If you don't know my mom, then to understand the story behind this picture, you need to know that she's one of the most positive people I've ever known, and when she's traveling, she's even more positive. Absolutely nothing can dampen my mom's spirits when she's on vacation. She figures she'll probably never be in that particular county again and she's going to take in every possibly experience even if it takes her weeks to completely recover once she gets home.

So, as we were approaching the castle, we noticed an opening at the base. My headlamp was in my pocket, so I switched it on and back we went. My aunt Traci, who is also always up for some adventure, came as well. Since I was leading, Mom and Aunt Traci didn't have much light for their feet, and at one particularly low point, Mom stepped a little too high and thrust her head right into the rock. She took a knee for a second (which is where the dirt you see on her jeans in the picture below came from). A moment later she was smiling and insisting to Aunt Traci and I that she was fine. The cave led back quite a ways, and we deduced that it must have been used for storing food and such. There was another cave under the castle, which was once used by the servants when the castle was attacked and the lord was away. They saw the attackers at a distance and bundled up all the expensive stuff and ran into the caves. The attackers were bewildered to find an empty castle, largely barren of anything worth stealing.




The castle grounds were almost more impressive than the castle itself:










Below you see me kissing the Blarney stone, which is kind of anticlimactic, honestly, but what the hay, I was at Blarney castle:




A couple of panoramic views from the top (the mansion you see was built by the castle's owners after castles became impractical and unfashionable):








The whole gang:




After seeing the castle, we walked into town a had lunch at a pub. We spent a bit of time at the Blarney Mills, but no one found anything they couldn't live without.

Mom and Dad Arrive

Aunt Traci, Uncle Joe, and I picked Mom and Dad up from the airport in Shannon (it was really great to see them), and hit the ground running. I had planned a route following the southern coast of Ireland, so we headed south to county Kerry and drove the Ring of Kerry, which I had biked earlier in my sojourn.


I took the picture below (most of pictures in this post, actually) on a road that runs through McGilicutty's Reeks (a mountain range, pronounced MAC-luh-cuddy). Most tourists on the popular Ring of Kerry don't get to see this part because it's not on most maps, and only locals (and savvy American tourists who had bicycled the route previously) know that a car can fit through there. It is a tight fit, too; cars can only pass on the banked corners. If two cars meet on a straightaway, one has to back up to the previous curve.




Abandoned buildings:




One of my favorite pictures:




Once you get out of the Reeks, there's still a lot of tourist-free, one-lane road to cover as it winds its way back down. This stretch had been a welcome breather on my bike trip and was equally beautiful the second time around.




After we got out of the mountains, the road follows the coast for most of the journey back to Killarney.




Near the end, it was getting dark, so I amended our route to get us back to Killarney a bit faster. Based on the turns we took, I don't think the rest of the party had much faith in my navigation at that point, but I got us there quickly and safely. Coming up on Killarney, I called around until I found a B&B for the night. We dropped off our bags and took a brief walk into the city center for some dinner. After we'd eaten (I seem to remember most of us had fish and chips), we sat and listened to music until Mom and Dad could take no more and headed back to the B&B so they could sleep off the jet lag.

Aunt Traci and Uncle Joe in Ireland

I can't remember exactly how long, but about two weeks after Audrey left, my Aunt Traci and Uncle Joe flew in from Colorado Springs to see me. I walked downtown and met them at the Raddison hotel. In my first car ride since I'd arrived in Ireland, I managed to guide them through Galway's compact city center to their bed and breakfast, which I'd procured the day before. After they settled into their room, I led them back into Galway on foot and took them to the major sights.





Later that night, we ate at the Mustard Seed just off of Shop Street (I think) and stepped into the Kings Head for a moment before deciding that they'd be better off if we didn't stay up to watch the music.


The next morning I rode my bike to the bed and breakfast and chatted over tea with the owner while Aunt Traci and Uncle Joe got ready (they'd overslept). After breakfast (oh, how I miss full Irish breakfasts), we stopped at the Galway cathedral to complete their tour of the city and then headed for Clifden on the coast road. Cliffden is just a hair north and quite a ways west of Galway around the bay, and the road we took hugs the bay with the rocky and boggy Connemara region on the other side.

It was fortunate that we chose that day for a road trip because it alternated between mist and rain the whole time. In the car it was wonderful, though, since we could look out on the rugged and romantic countryside without actually dealing with the weather.






An Irish traffic jam:


We stopped in Clifden for a bit of lunch at a pub that made a mean seafood chowder (but so does every other pub in Ireland, seriously, I didn't have a single bad bowl of soup in four months, soup preparation must be an important part of the primary school curriculum). After we'd eaten, Uncle Joe and I struck up a conversation with one of the employees about the tide and he took us out to show the water lines. Apparently, a twelve-foot difference through the day is fairly common. The boats you see in the picture will soon be floating happily.


We returned to Galway, ate some dinner at McSwiggin's (best pub name ever), and hit the sack because we had to leave early to pick up my parents in Shannon the next morning. We left while it was still dark and headed south. To make the best use of our time, I chose a route that took us by the Cliffs of Moher. Unfortunately, the only roads I knew in that area were the ones I had biked, so my poor uncle drove down what would be considered one-lane roads in the States, white knuckled and probably still groggy. But, we did survive and stopped at the cliffs. By this point I had learned to take the cold Irish mornings in stride with the knowledge that things would warm up real soon so there's no need to bother with a heavy coat, but I was not at all prepared for the winds atop the cliffs. I think I nearly died. The sunrise over the cliffs wasn't as spectacular as one would hope (sunset would be better since they face west), but they're still quite a sight.


After they'd taken all the pictures they wanted, we piled back into the van and headed for Shannon.

Last Day in Dublin

After Audrey left, I had nearly a full day left before my evening train back to Galway, so I checked out Christ Church Cathedral, which is just down the street from St. Pat's and across the street from Bull and Castle. It's a beautiful building (c. 1038), but it's sadly underused because it's the largest Protestant (Church of Ireland) cathedral in a very Catholic city. It's very well maintained, but it has the feel of a tourist attraction unlike St. Pat's which feels like a church that tourists happen to frequent.







After leaving Christ Church, I stopped by Marsh's Library, which is right behind St. Pat's. The library was built by Archbishop Narcissus Marsh, who served at St. Pat's for most of his life. Originally built to contain his extensive collection of theology books for homily research, the library amassed a serious collection of books detailing the most up-to-date learning available in the 18th century. I highly recommend a stop here to any Dublin visitors. If you're touring the city, you'll probably be near St. Pat's anyway, and it's only 2.50 euro to enter (and Nash's pub is just around the corner if you'd like to take a drop of the craythur). Tourists aren't actually supposed to take pictures, but I didn't see the sign until I left. The guard grinned at my reaction when I did see the notice and was kind enough to let me keep snapping.



Visitors are not allowed to view the books, but the scholars in the picture below had been grated permission for various research projects.



I had plenty of time to see a few more things, but I figured I'd be back in Dublin with my parents and aunt and uncle soon enough. And, I had no desire to cut it close on my train, so I wandered the block around the station for my last hour or so. I walked to the actual Guinness brewery (the tourist spot is a different thing altogether), and saw this heavenly sight through a crack in the gate:



As I got bored waiting for the train, I started playing with settings on the camera, and below are my poor attempts at artistic photography.

Audrey in Ireland: Part 3

Contrary to the appearances of my blog's abrupt conclusion with the previous entry, I was not kidnapped by Irish gypsies, who raised me as their own (which if you know anything about Irish gypsies is still a rough life) forcing me to put on comedy shows playing a jingoistic American with an affected southern accent, and writing parts for me with awful, awful puns, which caused me to die a little inside with each terrible word play. Actually, I just got busy and didn't post anything for the last six months. Yeah, if I'd put my mind to it there were probably a lot of time-cracks between other activities where I could have fit in a little blogginig. Oh, and there was the whole second half of December, during which I did absolutely nothing; that would have been a good time to write a bit. But, I didn't. Sorry about that. I figure I'll just pick up where I left off as best I can.

The day after Audrey and I returned to Galway, I took her to see all the sights she'd missed before our whirlwind trip.

Audrey and I at Menlo castle.



A rainbow on the walk home from said castle.



That night Audrey and I went out to the pubs in Galway with some of my friends. We had a good time, but I felt bad that she didn't get to really experience Galway's great pubs, which were the backbone of my great experience there (well, that and the great people, lots of free time, and the fact that I was in freaking Ireland). Taking them all in would have used more time than we had.

The next day, we got on the train for Dublin, which is a pleasant ride. We left so early that we were able to watch the Irish sunrise from our car. Here my memory of our trip gets a bit hazy, but I remember going to the John Jameson and Sons Irish Whiskey distillery (no, the haziness in my memory was not caused by the whiskey). The tour was pretty nifty, but the real treat was the tasting room. All of the stuff we learned though the tour was made really clear when the guide let us take a sip and then explained were all the different tastes come from. I was selected as one of the six people who took the extra tasting course, where we were presented with the three most popular Irish whiskeys (Jameson, Powers, and Paddy) the most popular Scotch whisky (Johnny Walker Red Label) and the most popular American bourbon (Jack Daniel's). The knowledgeable guide took us through each of the whisk(e)ys, explaining the different manufacturing processes that led to such different flavors from very similar recipes. At the end, we were asked to pick our favorite Irish whiskey, and despite the fact that I chose Powers over Jameson, they didn't kick my out and still presented me with a master whiskey taster certificate.



Next we went to St. Patrick's cathedral, which is far and away my favorite cathedral in the world. They say it sits on the same site as the well where St. Pat baptized the first Christian converts in Ireland.







When we left St. Pat's, I was about to burst from the morning's tea, so I went around the corner and found Nash's pub. I returned feeling much better, and Audrey and I decided to stay at this pub for a drink and to rest our legs. We started talking with the bartender, an older man with silver hair, who looked at us intently while we spoke over his thin reading glasses, and he took quite a liking to us, particularly to Audrey.

A sign posted on one of the wooden pillars by the bar.



Before we left, we asked for dinner suggestions. The bartender thought it over for quite awhile and then suggested the Bull and Castle, a gastropub just down the street across from Christchurch cathedral. He told us that he loved to eat there, and then after a moment's thought, decided to call the owner, who he knew personally, to tell him we were coming and to take good care of us.

A gastropub is pub, which serves simple fare, of slightly higher quality than the usual pub grub (which is good food in its own right). A lot of gastropubs (Bull and Castle included) feature extensive beer and wine lists and specialize in pairing particular dishes with a well-suited drink.

After walking around Dublin for a bit longer, we arrived at the Bull and Castle, and told the waitress that someone had called ahead for us. She went into the back and brought out the owner (or perhaps a manager, he looked important at any rate) who led us to a reserved table.

We started with steamed Galway mussels, and then we both ordered the steak, mine with a pepper sauce and Audrey's with a garlic-butter sauce. To accompany my steak, I ordered 1698, which is an English strong ale. I can't remember what Audrey had, but from the look of the picture, I'd say it's some kind of lager. Like most large meals in Ireland, our steaks came with mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables. We ended the meal with a huge dessert made with (as best as I can remember) a graham cracker crust, and some sort of cream and chocolate wonderfulness layered on top. We washed it down with Young's Double Chocolate Stout. I think it goes without saying that we ate way too much, but this was one of the best meals of my life, by far.





I laugh every time I see Audrey's face in this picture:



After that we walked around Dublin until our stomachs started to work on the pile of food we'd stuffed down our throats, and though I can't remember exactly, I'd venture to guess we found some pub to watch live music in because that's kind of what you do at night in Ireland.

I accompanied Audrey to the airport the next day to see her off.

Family, Family Everywhere

I'm just dropping in to explain why I haven't posted in quite awhile. My Aunt Traci and Uncle Joe arrived last Friday and my Mom and Dad arrived Sunday, so I've been running all over Ireland with them. I have all kinds of stories to tell and pictures to show, but that'll have to wait. Aunt Traci and Uncle Joe left this afternoon, but Mom and Dad are staying until Sunday, so the touring will continue, leaving posting on the backburner. Rest assured, I have not forsaken you, I will return, and there will be pictures. Until then...

Audrey in Ireland: Part 2

We awoke reasonably early and at a hearty breakfast of an orange and some trail mix and headed for the Cliffs of Moher, which is about an hour and a half from Doolin by foot. It was raining when we left, and at first I thought it would only be a Irish sprinkle, not enough to really get you wet, just enough to annoy wimpy non-backpacker types. I was wrong. Before we even half way, we were pretty soaked. Fortunately, we both had water-proof jackets, so it wasn't the end of the world. It did make the hike less than pleasant though. When we were about a quarter of a mile away from the cliffs, a car passed us and pulled off on the shoulder. A woman got out and asked it we wanted a ride. Of course we did, and they were clearly tourists and had a nice car, so we figured it'd be alright. (I was pretty confident too as this wasn't my first hitchhiking adventure. Oops, did I forget to mention that?) At any rate, we got to talking in the car and found out that we were all headed for Cork, so they offered to let us ride along all the way. We happily obliged, satisfied that they weren't serial killers by the inadequate space in their trunk for stowing our bodies. We still wanted to see the cliffs however, so they let us out and circled while we had a look. It had stopped raining by this point, but it was still very foggy, so it didn't take long to have a peek at what we could see. We then scurried back to the car and headed for Cork (with extra money in our pockets that we didn't have to spend on bus fare).



Our hosts were Neil and Deborah, from San Francisco. Neil was a retired tennis pro and Deborah was a endodontist (root-canal doctor). We hit it off and had the best time talking with them on the way. They were meeting up with family staying in Cork and then Deb was going to run in the Dublin marathon. It really made for a neat day. We were still wet of corse, but the ride was quite pleasant.

Neil and Deb dropped us off at the bus station in Cork and we got on a bus to our hotel. I don't remember if I'd alluded to this in any of my other posts, but the reason we were going to Cork was for the jazz festival going on that weekend. The festival was a bigger deal than I anticipated when I bought the tickets, so finding a room was a big problem. I ended up having to take one out of the city center near the airport. We changed into dry clothes and headed back into the city for dinner and the concerts. We wandered around looking for a place to get some good 'ol bar food, but came up dry. We ended up at a kebab house that turned out to be pretty lousy, but I was so hungry that it didn't matter. We then strolled around Cork and then headed for the venue.



Here's my review of the concert that I sent to my musician friends:

Friday Night:

Avishai Cohen Trio
Absolutely nuts! This definitely ranks among the top-five musical experiences of my life. Since the show was a double bill, they only played for a little over an hour, but they really crammed a lot in. They basically played all of Continuo with some additions and arrangement changes. I could pile up adjectives all day, but I can't describe how incredible they were. They're just so creative and precise. There's never any doubt on where a particular note was supposed to land. And Mark Gulliana (the drummer)! Holy chops-monster Batman! Talk about being locked into the grid! Really though, aside from the fun I had geeking out on their musical prowess, it was just so moving. Avishai has tapped into an supremely powerful vein. His songs resonate so deeply with the emotions, and the other members are totally locked into and dedicated to that aesthetic. They explore as far as they can, but never in a way that belittles the feeling of the song. It was musical expression of the highest order.



Me with Avishai Cohen (bass and composer) on the left and Mark Gulliana (drums) on the right:



Esbjorn Svenson Trio
These poor guys didn't have a chance after Avishai, so you might want to take my review with a grain of salt. Had my face not just been ripped off, I would have enjoyed their cool beats and catchy tunes, but as it was, EST sounded terribly jam-bandy. The pianist is really impressive; there's a reason the band bears his name. He carried far more than his share of the creative weight. The drummer and bassist took an entirely supportive role for most of the concert, which would have been fine, but this is a jazz fest, where's the interaction? I'll not go on about the other annoyances that can simply be summed in the same criticism of jam-bandy. Don't misunderstand me though, I enjoyed listening to them, and I think they're a good band. It's just that after my whole musical paradigm shifted, I wanted either silence of more Avishai-quality music.

Saturday:

Eliane Elias
The trio lineup was Eliane, Marc Johnson, and Adam Nussenbaum. How could they go wrong? Eliane just released an album of Bill Evan's music, so that's mostly what they played, though the trio sounded more like a louder Oscar Peterson Trio than the Bill Evans Trio to me. It was a really fun show: just three mature musicians playing music well within their capabilities and having fun. It was a swingin' good time. I only wish they'd done more of the Jobim interpretations that I think are Eliane's strongest asset. The did a few, but (I suppose trying to follow the Evans vein) they usually lapsed into a sort of straight-swing sort of feel. Oh well, it was a great show anyway. Eliane was full of life on the piano, Marc was a total pro, and Adam added a bit of flair here and there, though I don't think that was his best performance, he was a little sloppy at times (sloppy for a pro of course, he still sounded great).

Phil Woods Quintet
This show was a good note to end on. It was just a bunch of old guys having a great time. Phil Woods is amazing, he sounded just as good as he does on Songs for Sisyphus, which was recorded back in the 70s. I mean the guy is nearly dead; he had to walk off stage for a hit of oxygen while the others were soloing. But he was good humored and his playing didn't show any signs of age. The rest of the band matched him and made for a nice set of standards and originals that sounded like standards.


Backing up, Saturday we just moseyed around Cork until the shows. It's a really neat city, and I highly recommend it to anyone spending time in Ireland. Here's the beautiful university:



And here's one of the major cathedrals. Too bad the rapture didn't happen while we were there. Legend has it that the gold angel that you see atop the lower roof on the back will blow it's horn at the second coming.



We asked some locals for a dinner recommendation and ended up at Wagamamma's, a trendy Japanese noodle bar. It turned out to be a great choice. The food was amazing and relatively cheap. I couldn't begin to tell you what I had (lots of unfamiliar ingredients), but it was incredible.

The next day we got up and ate breakfast at our B&B and headed for the bus station. It took about four hours to get back to Galway, and we were both pretty tired by the time we got home. I made some dinner, we went out to the pubs for a bit with my friends, and hit the sack.

I've got some video of the jazz fest that I'll post, but I'm having trouble with YouTube, so they'll have to wait.