Ireland/May 2009
Friday May 8 ~ Wandering through the San Francisco International Airport, waiting for the long-anticipated hour to arrive, I battled the fluttering rumble in my stomach. I had a fading grip on reality as the Aer Lingus Airbus taxied to the gate, and the years of waiting, hoping, and dreaming all surfaced at once, hitting me like an icy gust of winter wind. My husband, Richard, and daughter, Molly, heard me breathe the words, "I'm going to Ireland." I reassured myself more than once, knowing it in that logical part of my brain where the saving, planning, budgeting, reserving, and organizing had all taken place. Still, it seemed so surreal. It had been such a long time coming; it felt like that elusive treasure that lays hidden for centuries, never found, never realized, never known. And yet, the unexpected and miraculous had happened, and I was going to Ireland!
The flight was amazing, nary a bump nor a rattle during the entire 5,000 mile flight. This was a tremendous relief; for me, flying rates right up there with dental work and vomiting. We landed in Dublin the next day, Saturday, May 9, at 9:15 a.m., a total of 18 hours after we left SFO if you count flight time plus the changes in time zones. Considering we had not slept the night before (jitters, anticipation, excitement, motel on the main Amtrack line and five minutes from SFO), we were already exhausted. We rented our car from a company based in Cobh, in the south of Ireland, and the car rental rep was 45 minutes late bringing our car to the airport. Our plans of stopping at sites along the way from Dublin to Co Waterford were waylaid by complete mental and physical exhaustion. We drove out of Dublin and stayed on the road until we reached Clonea Strand near Dungarvan. It took another hour to locate the cottage we rented. A maze of narrow lanes, no wider than a driveway, undulated in and around the farmland. We received directions from friendly locals - "Go down the hill until you pass Margery Dunne's lovely white cottage, turn right and stay on that road until you see Pat Mallory's barn..." We did finally locate our lodging and unloaded the pint-sized Fiat before we were too weak to lift a suitcase. The cottage was nice and had a beautiful view of the Celtic Sea, but we were unable to see it clearly until morning, after the blur and fog of 36 sleepless hours had lifted.
Cottage at Clonea Strand View of the Celtic Sea from Cottage
Sunday, May 10 ~ We awoke to an unusual sound - silence! No traffic, no birds, no crickets! It's as if all of Ireland adheres to the easier, more relaxed approach to life. People get a later start than we do here in the States, and the animals seem to be in sync with the laid-back Islanders. We were rested and ready for our first real day of getting out and about. We had planned to meet up with my brother and sister-in-law, their daughter and her friend, who were also vacationing in Ireland. We met at Grace Christian Fellowship in Cork where a friend of theirs attends. Oddly enough, it was the very place I had wanted to attend if I ever made it "across the pond." I had downloaded and saved their website and information two years ago. It was one of the best church services I have ever attended. Suffice it to say that the Irish know how to do most things right, and church is no exception.
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We spent Sunday afternoon in the quaint seaside village of Cobh (pronounced Cove.) History surrounds you in Ireland, and Cobh has its share. It is the infamous port from which the Titanic made its final docking, and the Lusitania sank offshore after being hit by a German submarine in 1915. The village is a postcard picture of colorful homes and shops, all connected in neat rows along the narrow streets. Standing above the village is the beautiful St. Colman's Cathedral, designed in 1869 and completed in 1919.
Cobh, Ireland 5/09
St. Colman's Cathedral, Cobh, Ireland 5/09
Paula, Steve & Kaleigh caught a big fish near the Titanic Gate
Monday, May 11 ~ This was our last day with my brother and his family, as they were to head back to the States the following day. We all found it rather amusing that we "had" to travel 5,000 miles to spend some time together. We met in Cahir, Co Tipperary. The town's castle looms high above, perched on a mound of rock, and is magnificent to see. Much of the castle remains, and it is great fun to travel in and out of the rooms and keeps and towers and dungeons, and let your mind imagine the intrigue and adventure that once played out in those very places. Richard fell victim to his imagination, seeing his demise at the wrong end of a cannon.
Off With His Head!
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Leaving Cahir, we went north to Cashel, the seat of Irish kings for centuries, its history dating from approximately 370 AD until 1101 AD. It was here that St. Patrick baptized King Aengus, thus planting the seeds for the spread of Christianity throughout the south of Ireland. St Patrick's Cross is here, as are artifacts from the Bronze Age. The remains of the castle and its surrounding grounds are expansive, and there exists a quiet peace as you walk on the ground where kings and saints once stood. From the cemetery there is an incredible view of Hoare Abbey and the surrounding countryside that is not to be missed.
View of Hoare Abbey from Rock of Cashel, Ireland 5/09
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We said good-bye to our dear family, having had a fantastic day together. It was great fun to spend some time with them in this amazing country, and I will always cherish the memories that we share from our days together. We decided to make one more stop before heading back to our cottage, so we drove into the town of Cashel and found the Bolton Library. Housed there are books that are hundreds of years old, including one original illuminated manuscript. There is a copy of Dante's Divine Comedy from 1512, and a letter written by Jonathan Swift in 1717. It is a jaw-dropping array of aged and ancient books, and a place that Molly would have gladly stayed for an untold length of time.
Bolton Library, Cashel Illuminated Manuscript, Bolton Library, Cashel, Ireland