Ireland, Too Briefly

Ireland is every bit as enchanting as I had anticipated.  Beauty, history, and charm are everywhere.

Suggesting that any country has a “national character” is hazardous, but our experiences in Ireland were so consistent that it’s tempting to make a few generalizations.  First, as mentioned in earlier posts, courtesy and hospitality flow as ubiquitously as Guinness.  We were warmly welcomed wherever we went.  Second, history is cherished and cultivated.   Carefully preserved and documented historical sites — from Neolithic times through the Vikings and hundreds of years of English domination — hold pride of place in many towns and much of the land between. And the people seem universally conversant with their history and myths; much more so than in the U.S., even though our past is so much more of the present day.  Third, as befits a nation of writers, details matter.  Even in the most rural parts of the countryside, houses are immaculate, with manicured lawns, fresh paint, flowers on the windowsills, and gleaming windows.  The land itself has a fairy-tale quality, and the pristine homes and trim stone walls evince a desire for things to be just-so.

Remarkably, the emphasis on preservation and beauty seems unaffected by the woeful economy.  There is no masking Ireland’s economic troubles.  At every stop, “to let” signs hung from many commercial buildings and scores of residential properties were for sale or subject to auction.  The hundreds of B&B’s we passed all had vacancies.  Several college students told us they were hoping to save money, get a green card, and move to the United States because of limited opportunities in Ireland.  Yet we found no despair; people were upbeat, at least when talking to American tourists.

Turning to the sights:  we stopped first at Newgrange, a Neolithic burial mound less than an hour from Dublin.  Dozens of these mounds dot the land in this part of the county, but Newgrange is the most impressive.  Built 5000 years ago, it is an astonishing engineering feat.  Beyond the effort of hauling hundreds of immense stones miles inland from the river to construct the tomb, its opening aligns precisely with sunrise on the winter solstice.  To reach the site, book a tour from the visitors’ center.  The tour is informative, lasts an hour, and includes ten minutes inside the mound.  (To appreciate Newgrange even more, you may want to read the fictionalized account of its construction in William Delaney’s Ireland, a novel stitched together from the tales of an itinerant story-teller.)

Next on our itinerary was Ceide (“Kay-je”) Fields, which also dates from Neolithic times.  It is a partially restored farming community in the north of County Mayo, about an hour from Westport (a lively town well worth visiting, where we had two delicious meals).  The site itself is not as physically impressive as Newgrange, consisting mostly of stone walls dug out of the peat bog.  What is striking, though, is how little has changed over five millennia.  Stone walls indistinguishable from the excavated ruins still mark the boundaries of fields, and it is easy to imagine that the neighboring farmers are direct descendants of those who built the original walls.  The setting offers beautiful views of the shoreline, including sea stacks, and the visitors’ center houses well-presented information about the region’s natural and human history.

Just outside Westport is Croagh Patrick, the tallest mountain in Ireland.  While not particularly high, it’s picturesque and has a great deal of associated history.  Apparently, it takes three and a half hours for a round-trip hike to the summit, but we arrived too late in the day to make the climb.  Instead, on the recommendation of the owner of the restaurant where we ate lunch – The Pantry and Corkscrew Restaurant and Café in Westport, which was terrific – we followed R335 past Croagh Patrick to Killary Harbor, an easy, scenic drive through part of the Connemara Peninsula.  Just past the harbor, in the town of Leenane, R335 meets up with N59, which circles back to Westport.

After enduring another night in our disappointing hotel near Westport (Breaffy House, which is a statuesque castle on the outside and basically a Holiday Inn on the inside), we headed south into County Galway.  We passed through the city of Galway, but grumpiness among a few of our party, compounded by a steady drizzle, prevented us from exploring the city.  After finding parking (not easy!) and wandering for an hour, we bought hot chocolates (which are effective mood enhancers) and continued on to Limerick.

While the rest of our party remained in the hotel (the Limerick Strand, which was modern, well-appointed, and an easy walk to central Limerick), my wife and I spent a couple of hours late Sunday afternoon wandering through the deserted streets.  Even though most stores were closed or closing, there was a lot to take in, including King John’s Castle, many other centuries-old buildings, and a beautiful walk along the River Shannon.  Upon returning to the hotel, I read in our guidebook (A Rough Guide to Ireland) that Limerick’s nickname is “Stab City.”  Perhaps other parts of town are dangerous, but we felt entirely safe in the downtown and historic areas.  In fact, I enjoyed Limerick more than Dublin, which was sprawling and crowded.

A bit over an hour from Limerick are the Cliffs of Moher.  Here, the land ends in an abrupt series of scalloped cliffs.  Sheep and cattle graze twenty feet from a stark drop to the Atlantic, separated from the edge by a couple of strands of wire.  Unfortunately, there was no pounding surf on the day we visited.  (Nor were there puffins, although the cliffs supposedly are a significant puffin habitat.  Last Summer I was in the Shetland Islands, which supposedly are puffin central, but failed to see a single one.  Like Superman and Clark Kent, puffins and I cannot be found in the same place at the same time.)  The official (i.e., paved) cliffside path is limited, but to the north dozens of people, my wife and I included, climbed through a gap in a fence and followed a dirt trail for another half mile or so, with phenomenal views the whole way.  Whether out of fear or a possibly misplaced concern for property rights (the trail wasn’t posted), our kids declined to follow us.  Instead, they spent our absence determining how to divide our assets given the likelihood that we would plummet to our deaths.  They need not have worried (or more accurately, have anticipated their inheritance), because the trail remains at least 15 feet from the cliff’s edge and footing is sure.

On our way back to Dublin the next day, we passed a couple of hours in Waterford.  By all means, visit the tourist office on Merchants Quay if you go there.  The staff gave us a detailed map, told us where to find the highlights, and briefly sketched the city’s history; as with so many places in Ireland, Waterford dates deep into medieval times.  Walking past Reginald’s Tower (a survivor from the Vikings), we stopped by the Waterford factory showroom.  Lots of impressive pieces with even more impressive prices; some small but exquisite items cost at least three times as much as our entire vacation.  A block from the showroom is Christ Church Cathedral, site of the wedding in 1170 of an English knight, Strongbow, and an Irish princess, Aoife.  The rest, as they say, is history, more red in tooth and claw (and sword and gun and bomb) than nature ever is.  The Cathedral is beautiful and visitors are free to wander around and view the exhibits.

Our final night in Dublin, like our first, was spent at the Croke Park Hotel.  Around two miles from Trinity College – an easy 30-minute walk – the hotel is pleasant enough.  There’s not much in the immediate area, but the service is very good, the rooms are fine, and it’s only ten minutes from the airport.

We saw a lot in our six days of travel, but barely got a taste of what Ireland has to offer. I look forward to returning at some point for a more leisurely and encompassing visit.