Derry or Londonderry?

If you are driving into Northern Ireland from the Republic of Ireland the signs will read "Derry." When you are in Northern Ireland driving to the city, the signs will read "Londonderry." That is, if one faction or the other of the political divide hasn't painted in or blocked out the names on the signs. And that's only the tip of "The Troubles."

We arrived in the city close to noon which is when a tour of the wall that surrounds the old city was to begin. While we waited at the appointed spot just outside an indoor mall, we quickly downed some McD burgers. They don't quite taste the same as back home but we needed some sustenance before our hour long tour.

Our tour guide was excellent and began by reassuring us that Londonderry or Derry (he explained the name problem) was quite a safe city. "The Troubles" as the conflict between Protestant and Catholic political factions is called is said to have begun in 1963. As history was revealed to us though, it seems Ireland's troubles began way before that with the conflict between William of Orange (a Protestant king of England) and James II (Catholic heir to the English throne). They both fought for control of Ireland and Derry was the site of one of the battles with the town being besieged by James and defended by those loyal to William. The black and white sign pictured refers to the Protestant young men who closed the gates to the city and refused to surrender.

Did it have anything to do with religion? Maybe. But to my thinking, it was just how the line was drawn in the sand to defend the politics. In the sixties, our guide said, the Catholics who had been oppressed by the Protestants who were in power rose up and formed opposition which at times got very ugly when the two sides clashed. And so The Troubles began in earnest. I would suggest you search for information on the history of it all. I still am a bit confused by it. There is a lot to absorb.

The Good Friday Peace Agreement was the beginning of an easing of tension between the two sides. While some are still keeping to the efforts to kindle the disagreements, most are trying to live in peace. At some point, our guide said something to the effect that all had been peaceful for the last three years. Then in the next breath he applauded the local officials in capturing three IRA fellows who had a bomb in their car.

During The Troubles, there was one huge incident that happened in Derry--Bloody Sunday, January 30, 1972. A demonstration by Roman Catholic civil rights supporters turned violent and British paratroopers opened fire on the group killing 13 and wounding 14. For years it was a point of contention over who fired the first shot. (The story reminds me of the Kent State shootings.) Finally in 2010, resolution was made and Prime Minister David Cameron went before British parliament and apologized to the Irish people. The picture of a dove painted on a building is where the shooting took place.

Several other murals in the area mark the time of The Troubles including one called "The Death of Innocence." It shows a young girl of 14, Annette McGavigan, who died in 1971 when she was caught in crossfire. The butterfly over her shoulder was only recently painted in (2006). The artist left it in silhouette until he was sure peace had come.

On a lighter note, our guide also told us that the treed area of the wall was a spot where high society used to come and walk with their ladies on their arm as a way of showing off the high fashion of the era. The less fortunate would point fingers and say, "Look at those cats!" That's what gives us the term catwalk. Irish tale? I'm so suspicious.

When we finished our tour which took us about 3/4 of the way around the wall, we walked to the center of the walled city to admire the large department store that was celebrating its 150th anniversary. The outside was a lot more impressive than the inside. We didn't stop to shop.

Wordless Wednesday

Sligo, Ireland--Another Day, Another Abbey

Our drive from Westport to Sligo was unremarkable except for the always beautiful Irish countryside. I don't think I could ever have tired of the lush green fields, the purple heather, the sheep roaming everywhere, hillsides full of grazing cows, quaint cottages--some with thatched roofs, and spectacular skies that were ever shifting and changing their mood. Oh yes, there were some more modern areas that resembled our American shopping centers but they were few and far between.

For some reason, Rick Steves does not include Sligo or the area around it in his travel guide. Surprising since this area is famous for William Butler Yeats having spent some of his early years in Sligo and is buried in Drumcliff, just up the road. After many unflattering comments about Steves and his guidebook from those associated with the tourist industry in the Ireland we had already visited, I can't help but wonder if there wasn't a good reception for him there and he chose to keep it out.

The city of Sligo was actually quite nice I thought. There was a river running through it out to the Atlantic Ocean and several bridges that spanned it were very picturesque. We ate in a little cafe where the waitresses were excited to see Americans or foreign tourists for that matter. The farther north we traveled, the more we were a welcome sight. But more of that in posts to come.

We made our way over to the Sligo Abbey. Sligo also had a castle at one time but it did not survive the test of time. The Abbey has and part of that is due to the fact that the O'Conor Sligo family (obviously someone important) had made it the family burial place.

I was surprised to find a rood screen in stone here (the three small arches in the picture). We have run across rood screens in other old churches my first awareness of them being at a church in England where it was pointed out to me. I found that the rood screen was used as a way to separate the clergy from the laity.

There were quite a few graves in the floor of the Abbey and markers that stood as well marking places where people were buried. I have never quite understood how people concentrate on worship as the step over graves in the floor (Westminster Abbey is a good example).

The Dominican Friary that ran the Abbey was founded in the mid-13th century and the high sculpted altar that sits behind the rood screen dates back to the 15th century.

While I wouldn't go so far as to say "If you've seen one ruined Abbey, you've seen them all," but I had lost count of how many we'd been to. Not being an archaeologist or a historian, it all begins to blend together. I was beginning to get a better grasp on Irish history though and how religion played a part in dividing people politically. Sad that what God intended to bring people together could tear us apart so much--even today.

Connemara, Ireland

Actually Connemara is not a town, city, or county. It names an area, the western portion of Galway County. Said to be one of the most beautiful areas of Ireland, we were excited to explore it. Several places were on our itinerary to stop. The first was Leam Bridge, famous for being in one of the scenes of the movie The Quiet Man starring John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. The movie itself was shot in the Connemara area and is about an Irish-American boxer, Sean Thornton, who accidentally killed a man in the boxing ring. They say it looks much the same as it did in 1951 when the film was made but others say that so many souvenir hunters have removed rocks that it must have been rebuilt three times since.

Moving on, we next stopped at the beautiful Kylemore Abbey. There is quite a beautiful and yet sad story that surrounds the Abbey. Originally a hunting lodge stood there and Mitchell Henry, a doctor, industrial tycoon, politician and pioneer, visited there with his new bride, Margaret, on their honeymoon in 1850. Margaret was so enamored by it that Mitchell returned and bought the property that included 15,000 acres as a gift for her. The hunting lodge became a fairytale castle with all the innovative and modern conveniences of the time.

Unfortunately by the time it was finished, Margaret had only a short while to enjoy it. In 1874, the couple travelled to Egypt where Margaret fell ill with dysentery and died leaving behind nine children and a husband with a broken heart. In her honor, he built a beautiful Neo-Gothic church to the east of the castle in her memory. That was where we began our tour.

The church has been wonderfully restored. The before and after pictures are amazing. There is every type of marble found in the Connemara area used in the decoration of the church. One of the stained glass windows made quite an impression on me and I posted about it as one of my Sunday Worship Thoughts.

Moving back to the main building which is now an Abbey run by Benedictine nuns, we began learning more about the history of Kylemore. Eventually, in 1903, the Henry's castle was sold to the Duke and Duchess of Manchester--King Edward VII having passed on it saying it was too expensive for a king. The Duke was actually broke from gambling debts and it was his wife's father, an American oil baron, who footed the bill for the castle. The castle passed through several hands until finally in 1920 the Benedictine nuns were able to purchase it.

There was until recently a famous international boarding school run by the nuns with such noted attendees as Angelica Houston and Indian Princesses of the Maharaja Ranjit. The Benedictine sisters still occupy the upper levels of the Abbey.

By the time we were on our way to the gardens of Kylemore, the sun was breaking out and, as the Irish say, it was going to be a glorious day. The 6 acre walled garden was blooming with color even though it was late in the year. The garden was quite innovative in its original building as there were steam pipes that connected to the greenhouses (two of which have been rebuilt) to give heat. We peeked into the gardener and head gardener's houses, the first being called a bothy (a hut or small cottage). As you can see in the pictures, rank had its privileges.

After a bowl of soup and the ever popular Irish brown bread, we continued on toward our destination for the night, Westport. We had been warned by other travelers we'd met that we would see lots of sheep in Connemara and that we did--close up!

The peat bogs were everywhere as well. The peat is dug up, dried, and used as fuel. It has a funky smell though that I found hard to place. Definitely not a wood fire, it was almost like burning oil.

As we reached the mountainous area where we would find Croagh Patrick, the mountain on which it is said St. Patrick fasted for 40 days and then rang a bell chasing all the snakes out of Ireland, we stopped by a very moving memorial. Between the mountains, is Doo Lough Valley and along the road is a stone cross memorial for the 200 who died crossing this valley during the potato famine. In 1849, 600 starving Irish walked 12 miles from Louisburgh to Delphi Lodge hoping to get food from their landlord but they were turned away. The 200 died along the side of the road on the walk back.

As we passed Croagh Patrick, we caught a glimpse of a white object way up on the summit. It was the statue of St. Patrick that pilgrims climb the mountain to reach and honor him by doing so--some in their bare feet. Hopefully they are remembering his work to bring Christianity to Ireland and not the snake thing. Today we know there never were any snakes in Ireland. Right?

Books For The Road - Shoo Fly Pie

At a writer's conference, I heard Tim Downs speak. He was informative, funny, and encouraging. The publishing house gave each attendee out one of his books, Wonders Never Cease. While I enjoyed that read, I really wanted to get into his Bugman series and finally I have. Now I'm hooked.

Shoo Fly Pie is the first in his series. (For once I'm starting at the beginning.) I actually bought the book for my husband to read while we travel. He's never finished a book so quickly. He usually puts it down and lets it ferment a bit between readings. I caught him smiling and laughing out loud. I knew it had to be good.

The story is of a woman, Kathryn Guilford, who wants to investigate the death of a friend that was officially ruled a homicide. She can't believe it and goes in search of a man who's been reported to be an expert in forensic entomology. Translated, he used flies and beetles in all stages of life to determine how long a body has been dead and even if it's been moved. A problem arises when Dr. Nick "Bugman" Polchak insists she be part of the investigation. You see, Kathryn has a phobia--insects.

Downs' character, the Bugman, is a compilation of Indiana Jones, Monk, and CSI. He is delightful and his physical description as well as his personality lend to some fun times in the reading. Mystery and action are all part of the story as well which makes it a great mix.

I'm ready for the next book!

A Saturday in Galway

Maybe it was because it was Saturday and many were enjoying a day off. Maybe it was because we didn't have to get in the car and drive anywhere that day. Maybe it was because it was a gloriously sunny day. Maybe it was all three but we thoroughly enjoyed our day dedicated to exploring the city of Galway.

Galway is a city that is more like a small town. There are no skyscrapers. No extremely tall buildings like in Dublin and Waterford and Belfast. We started our day getting information about a bus tour and then walking down to the Saturday market that stretched around the grounds of St. Nicholas Church. Since it was the annual Oyster Festival that weekend there was quite a display of oysters and a booth where you could have one shucked fresh for a euro. I passed but Bob enjoyed a couple later in the day.

We happened upon a farmer selling all sorts of eggs. I recognized the chicken eggs and the quail eggs but he had several large eggs that were cream colored with brown speckles. When I asked what kind they were I got quite a lesson in turkey eggs. It was great fun to listen to him.

The hop-on hop-off bus that did an old town tour was parked in front of the hotel near the TI when we returned. The tour was an hour long and took us out to some places that were a bit too far to walk. It also gave us a good chance to get oriented to where things were. And of course hear some of those great Irish tales.

Once back to our starting point, we hustled to the town square and watched the Oyster Festival ceremonies where the mayor was presented with the first oyster of the festival. She downed it in one gulp. Then there was a small parade around the town square to celebrate. It was all quite festive. The Oyster Festival itself however was very expensive to enter so we passed since we really aren't great oyster fans.

Bob and I started out for the Galway Cathedral we'd passed on the bus tour. It was a bit of a walk but a beautiful one as we found the path that followed the Friar's River. We strolled with all the others who were out enjoying the warm sunshine, blue skies, and fall colors.

The Cathedral is huge but inside it is certainly a place that welcomes worship. As stone Cathedrals go, this one is relatively young. Construction was begun in 1958 and it was dedicated in 1965. Mosaics and stained glass windows are featured in the sanctuary and the floors are made of a light green marble.

We found another route to walk down to the harbor of Galway where the Spanish Arches are. I was hoping we would find a restaurant with a view of the bay but no such luck. Instead, we found a small cafe that featured pizza and sandwiches. I saw nachos on the menu and ordered those breaking my rule of not eating Chinese, Mexican, etc. when you are not in China, Mexico, etc. I should have stuck to my rule.

The afternoon was spent wandering up and down the pedestrian mall and enjoying all the musicians that were set up every few feet and playing/singing their hearts out. Some were drowned out by others who set up amplifiers but we enjoyed some very traditional Irish music along the way as well as some more modern renditions. We stopped and watched a few minutes as a little boy broke out in spontaneous dance to the foot stomping music two musicians were playing.

It was planned that the four of us would meet at Taaffes Pub around 4 so that we could secure a seat for the traditional Irish music session that was scheduled to begin at 5. It was an interesting hour watching people come and go and mingle and mingle some more. Finally, about fifteen minutes before five, a bartender came and placed a "reserved for musicians" sign on the table next to us. At least we were sitting in good seats.

At five two musicians made their way to the table. The bartender placed a Guinness down for one and a cup of coffee for the other (Irish coffee?). One got out his fiddle and the other his guitar. Before they got started, my brother-in-law leaned over to the one with the fiddle and asked, "You're not Irish, are you?"

The guy shrugged a little, shook his head slightly and said, "No."

Wordless Wednesday

The Aran Islands

Another ring fort? I groaned. How many circles of stones do we need to see? But this one was on an island, Inishmore in the Aran Islands, and said to have a spectacular view. What the tour guide didn't say was how far UP you had to walk to get that view.

We arrived on the 10:30 ferry from Rossaveal and were met with a dozen or more vans and as many horse carts all clamouring for our attention. If it hadn't been so cold and drizzly, I'd have sworn we were in the Caribbean. We took the first van whose driver approached us and climbed in. For 10 euros each we were about to get a tour of the island.

The tour went something like this: "This is the grocery store. This is where we recycle. That's a house that caught fire and burned the thatched roof off. . ." There were only two significant places we stopped and one of those was the ring fort, Dun Aonghasa. He let us out and said we had two hours to explore, have lunch or a cup of tea, and do a little shopping (there were two tiny gift shops there).

We decided it might be prudent to have lunch first before we began the trek to the fort. The Cafe was quaint with a nice fireplace warming it up and making it cozy. The vegetable soup was delicious and fortified us. We were soon ready for our climb.

It took about 25 minutes to walk/climb to the fort stopping several times along the way to "take pictures"--my way of catching my breath. The fort was larger than the others we'd seen but this one certainly did have quite a view. We rested. Took pictures. Then looked at the return path. From this vantage point, it was all downhill. Thank goodness!

We killed a little time in the gift shops and right on time, our van showed up with our driver. The trip along the coastal road back to the ferry dock was pretty much like the first of our tour: "That's the school. That's the graveyard. That's where the seals would be if the tide was in. . ."

We arrived at the little town area about two hours before our scheduled return trip. Once we'd wandered through the sweater outlet, there wasn't much else to do. We found a cafe in an inn across from the ferry dock and stopped in for a very slowly sipped cup of tea. The ride back on the ferry was exhilarating. At least it was for me. The rest of our group fell asleep. I enjoyed the ride as the ferry literally surfed the big waves on the way back to mainland. It's my kind of surfing.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner at the Castle?

About a half hour outside of Galway in Kinvarra lies Dunguaire Castle. It is also called a Tower House, a tall square stone structure built with a commanding view and towering over enemies so that it would be easier to defend. This one was built around 1520 by the O'Hynes clan who were basically farmers. The location on the water made it easier for them to take their goods into Galway to sell as the area around them was very boggy and difficult to travel by land.

In 1642, the mayor of Galway, Richard Martyn, owned the castle and modernized it with glass windows and chimneys. The castle was not updated much in the 1700s perhaps due to the fact that the Martyn's were Catholic and were just lucky enough to hold on to the property even though the penal laws forbid Catholic ownership. The Martyn family held the property until 1924.

When Dunguaire was purchased by Lady Christobel Amptill after World War II, it was in ruins. In 1954, she began restoring it and added living quarters as well as a garage. The modern-looking apartment in the picture was her main living quarters. She lived there for almost 20 years and eventually sold the castle in 1972 to Shannon Development to be preserved as a historical building.

Our self-guided tour through the castle was part of the tickets we had purchased in advance for the evening Medieval banquet. We did the tour in the afternoon and then hustled to our B&B in Galway so that we could freshen up and return for the banquet.

Legend has it that King Guaire looked out his window one day and saw 150 poets who requested his hospitality for a festival. The request was immediately granted as in Gaelic custom hostpitality was highly regarded and a king's greatest gift was generosity. Each night a banquet was held and poets would recite and musicians play. The festivities continued on for a year and a half. Ours would not last that long.

The evening was outstanding. The banquet hall holds about 50 people. Our host and hostess were also our entertainers and servers for the evening. I don't know how they did it all. We were seated and a "king" was appointed to reign over the event. The evening continued with Irish tales and stories and lots of song. Our hostess looked so much like our niece that it was almost uncanny.

The "servants" from the kitchen brought the food up. It was plated and passed out to us. The terrible part is that I can't remember what we ate. The good part is that it was probably because we were having such a good time listening to the entertainers. I do remember there being plenty of food.

The entertainment for the evening included a wonderful harpist who accompanied the singers/performers. The fare for the evening included many stories, songs, and tales from the many famous Irish authors, poets, and composers including such notables as Yeats, Joyce, and Wilde. This would definitely be a redo if we ever visit Ireland again.

Books for the Road - The 1st To Die

The 1st To Die is the first in a series of books featuring the Women's Murder Club. Lindsay Boxer is a homicide detective in the San Francisco police department who pulls together three other women, a DA, a forensic medical examiner, and a reporter to form a group who brainstorm and investigate a killer who is murdering newly wed couples. Lindsay is also dealing with her own mortality as she has been diagnosed with a possibly fatal disease. Add to that the complication of falling for her new partner assigned for this case and you have quite a complicated emotional plot line.

James Patterson takes you on the emotional journey with Lindsay right up to the very end with a twist I didn't expect. I enjoyed the characters and will probably try out the second in the series to see if they are just as strong and the story just as exciting.

I do believe this is one of the books that James Patterson actually wrote himself. So many now are written under his tutelage by other authors. It's a good read for the road.

Doolin and the Burren

Doolin was probably the smallest town we stayed in. You truly could not blink or you'd miss it. Once we checked in at our B&B, we headed off to the two pubs that were recommended by our host for dinner. One, O'Conners, was obviously full of people since there were a couple of tourist buses parked nearby. We discovered later that it was because the traditional Irish musicians were playing through the dinner hours. Usually the pubs didn't start live music until 9:30 p.m. or later.

Undaunted, we turned around and headed the other direction and up a little farther on the hillside to McGann's. We were rewarded with what I would call a true town pub as you might imagine it. An all wood interior with heavy wooden tables and stools rather than chairs. We ordered at the bar and our food was delivered to us at a table. I had the biggest hamburger I've seen in quite a while and the French fries were quality. In Ireland, they fry them the old fashioned way--real lard.

After a great breakfast at our B&B, we were on the road again and headed for the area known as the Burren. It literally means "the rocky place" and that it was. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Our first stop was at the "gateway to the Burren," Kilfenora. The site to see here was the Kilfenora Cathedral that dates back to 1189. While the cathedral is actually in ruins, it still holds several high crosses (standing crosses with a circle) the most famous of which is the Doorty Cross because of its carving of a bishop on it. Apparently during the potato famine in order for the very poor church to survive, the Pope declared himself bishop of the area.

Next up was the 15th century Leamaneh Castle. Only a shell now at one time it was a fortified tower house. As less fortification was needed, the house was expanded and the windows were enlarged. It was a bit eerie to see large blackbirds flying around inside. All it needed was a scraggly old tree outside, a little twilight, and a moon rising behind it and, well, you get the picture. Lots of stories of the owners are told here at this site if you're interested.

We pulled into the parking area to see another ring fort and I have to confess, I was up to my ears in ring forts and their history. Just inside the pretty little cottage entrance to the fort was a very inviting cafe with tea and scones. I opted out of the ring fort excursion and had some quiet time enjoying a scone with whipped cream and jam.

Between the fort and our next stop the Poulnabrone we drove through the Burren and marveled at the landscape. It was no wonder there was not much farming in this area. It would have been near impossible to remove that many stones to make the land farmable. For as far as the eye could see there were rolling hills and mountains of stone with a little greenery tossed in between.

The Poulnabrone or "portal tomb" we stopped to see was truly in the middle of nowhere. It is said to be 5,000 years old and archaeologists discovered remains of more than 30 people there. While the tomb is interesting it is far more interesting to wander over the limestone formations there. Crevices in the limestone formed by water erosion are called Grikes and the blocks that are formed are called Clints. Here and there you will find a hole in the limestone formed by rainwater dissolving the limestone. These are call Kamenitza and look like nature's flower pots. A little soil forms in the bottom, a seed falls, and with a little coaxing from nature, you have a blooming plant.

The Burren is said to be at its best when the wildflowers are in bloom. While we found a few, I can imagine that at the right time of year it must truly be spectacular. Wonder exactly when that is? Time for research. My bucket list is growing again.