EUROPE – PART 1 - IRELAND

We left home on the warmest day of the year, September 26, when the mercury registered almost 29 degrees Celsius!  In the Charlottetown Airport departure lounge, we watched and listened as a group of high school students prepared to leave for a trip to a leadership camp in Waterloo, Ontario.  We were most impressed, and it was hard not to get caught up in their unbridled enthusiasm.  Then, who walks in but hockey royalty: Ron MacLean and Don Cherry.

Jacques, Isabelle and Lucie met us at Pearson Airport in Toronto, and we spent a pleasant three hours together during our layover.  Lucie is growing up so fast!

Ireland had been on our bucket list for some time and, this fall, things fell into place for a visit.  We booked a self-driving B&B itinerary through Royal Irish Tours.  I wasn’t thrilled at the idea of driving for seven days on the wrong side of the road, but decided I’d give it a try.  We landed at Dublin Airport at 6:30, picked up our rental, a Seat Leon, a Spanish-made car I’d like to have taken home with me.

Then, it was out onto the motorway, try like hell not to get honked at, and stay out of major trouble.  Jet-lagged as I was, I managed to find my way to Belfast and onto the road leading north to the small town of Bushmills, home of the famous Old Bushmills whiskey.  Our destination for Day One was the Giant’s Causeway, a UNESCO World Heritage Site located at the far northern tip of the island.

Ireland, the island, is just a bit bigger than New Brunswick.  It’s divided into the Republic of Ireland, independent since 1921 and home to 4.6 million people, and Northern Ireland, part of the United Kingdom, with a population of 1.8 million.  According to Wikipedia, winters are milder and summers cooler than in continental Europe, and “rainfall and cloud are abundant”.  There’s a lot of history here, much of it of hard times, and far too much to recount in a travel blog.

We arrived at the Giant’s Causeway in the rain.  It wasn’t pelting at the time but the wind gave a hint of worse weather to come.  We followed our guide from the interpretive centre down to the strand, listening to his detailed but colourful explanations of how this impressive natural feature gained notoriety.  His geological explanation included references to tectonic plates, volcanic activity, lava flow, basaltic beds; yada, yada, yada!

I like the “Once upon a time” explanation better.  The one that says the causeway between Ireland and Scotland was built by Finn McCool, a giant 53½-foot tall Irishman as a test of strength against his rival, the Scottish giant, Benandonner.  It’s the one I’m more likely to remember.

We checked in to our B&B, the Valley View, and were welcomed warmly by hostess, Valerie.  She was a delight, full of suggestions for places to eat and things to do in the area.

Day Two saw us drive to Carrick-a-Rede, site of a rope bridge first constructed by local salmon fishermen in 1755 to help them cross from the mainland to a rocky outcrop.  From there, they netted migrating Atlantic salmon as they swam past the point, searching for the river in which they were born.  We’d been told by Maynard, Valerie’s husband, to get there before the crowds.  Good advice, as it turned out.

From Carrick-a-Rede, we drove west along the Causeway Coastal Route, stopping briefly at the tiny village of Ballintoy and the beautiful White Park Beach.  Next, we came upon the ruins of Dunluce, a medieval castle perched precariously on a windswept headland.  In Portrush, we passed a beautiful links golf course and watched golfers crouch as they smashed their balls into the wind.

I’d seen Mussenden Temple on a BBC travel show and wanted to go there.  We walked from the parking lot, through the Bishop’s Gate and up to the ruined Downhill House, part of a magnificent estate built in the late 1700s to the greater glory of one Frederick Hervey, Church of Ireland Lord Bishop of Derry.  The Temple, built to house the Bishop’s library, stands precariously close to the cliff edge, high above the ocean.

Having had enough excitement for one day, we beat it south, crossed the border back into the Republic and made our way to Donegal, our destination for the night the magnificent Rossmore Manor.  We had a lovely meal at the Olde Castle Bar in Donegal.

Day Three began with a one-hour drive west toward Slieve League.  We’d been told it was not to be missed.  The weather in Donegal was lovely but it soon changed.  Dark clouds scudded above the hills as we neared the town of Killybegs and the rain began to fall.  But, as experienced travellers know: “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes!”  Actually, as we turned onto the country road leading to the cliffs of Slieve League, the sky brightened a bit.  Up we drove along a treacherous mountain path, past grazing sheep, until we got to the end, a tiny car park seemingly on the edge of the earth.  We weren’t disappointed.  The wind was so strong that it carried sea foam up to where we were standing.  You can see a bit of it in the top right hand corner of the photo below.  The cliffs, at 2,000 feet, are the highest in Ireland, three times higher than the more famous Cliffs of Moher.

We stopped at Studio Donegal in the tiny village of Kilcar, where the tradition of handweaving is kept alive.  Then, we drove cross-country to our destination, Westport, stopping briefly at Mullaghmore Head, where we watched massive breakers crash onto the shore.  Across Donegal Bay, we could just make out Slieve League.

After checking in to Adare House B&B, we took owner Christie’s advice and walked into town to check out the music and pub scene.  We found ourselves in Hoban’s, a popular place to have a pint and listen to live music on a Friday afternoon, courtesy of the Mulloy Brothers.  Watching the locals and listening to the band made for a rich cultural experience.

Christie suggested we drive to Achill Island, about 50 kilometres west of Westport.  Arriving there, we turned onto a small coastal road, part of the Wild Atlantic Way, and came upon the ruins of St. Dympna’s Church in Kildavnet.  Between there and the tiny village of Dooega, we were treated to some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen — anywhere.  The sun shone brightly and the views were stunning.

Our destination, Keem Bay, the end of the road, is reached by a narrow road perched on the edge of seaside cliffs.  But the scene made it well worthwhile.  I’d have taken a dip if I’d had swim trunks; the water was warmer than I thought.

Our next stop on Day 4 was Kylemore Abbey and Victorian Walled Gardens.  The Abbey was built by Mitchell Henry, a wealthy London doctor, in 1871.  It stayed in his family until it was sold to the Duke and Duchess of Manchester.  He lost it in card game!  Benedictine nuns, forced to leave Ypres, Belgium during World War I bought the Abbey in 1920 and ran a private school for girls until 2010.  Today, the Abbey and Gardens together form an impressive tourist attraction.

By the end of Day 4, I was starting to feel a bit more comfortable driving on the left side of the road.  Early on, my brain was locked in a constant battle between competing impulses: the steering wheel is on the wrong side; why am I shifting with my left hand; how do I turn right at a stop sign; Elva should be sitting to my right, not by my deaf ear; etc.  It tires a fella out!

We got thoroughly lost trying to find our B&B in Galway.  The instructions on our reservation were unclear and, when I finally did figure out which direction I needed to go, I could find no trace of street or road signs.  Because there were none!  Eventually, we settled in to our room and walked down to the older section of the city, a pedestrian-friendly area where we found a nice pub for a badly-needed bite after a long day.

We had two things on the agenda for Day 5: the Cliffs of Moher and Bunratty Castle and Folk Village.  It was pouring rain when we left Galway and we debated whether to detour out to the coast.  We’d learned that if you don’t like the weather in Ireland, wait five minutes!  Sure enough, by the time we drove into the parking lot at the Cliffs, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.  We walked past the visitor centre and to the edge of the towering cliffs, bent at the waist, battling the 100-km-an-hour gusts, holding on tight to our cameras.

Bunratty Castle, located near Limerick, is a 15^th-century tower house built by the MacNamara family.  It was restored as a tourist attraction in the 1950s and, together with the folk village, made for an interesting visit.  I was particularly taken by this simple stone farmhouse, all stone: floor, walls, hearth, and roof.  So simple, yet so elegant.  And the fence is typical of ones we saw everywhere in Ireland.

From the castle, we drove southwest to the town of Dingle and had an early supper at the Dingle Pub.  We arrived at the tail-end of a food festival and got to hear some excellent music, courtesy of six jamming accordion players, accompanied by a guitar and banjo.  Our day not yet done, we still had to find our B&B, the Imeall na Mara, in the tiny seaside village of Beale na nGall.  The road signs in this part of the Dingle Peninsula, were unilingual Irish (or Gaelic Irish)!  Long story, short, we were welcomed by Philomena and Michael and had a wonderful stay.

Day 6 saw us travel along the southern part of Ireland toward our destination for the night, the Fern Hill B&B in Tramore, a small seaside town near Waterford.  Along the way, we stopped at the Blarney Castle where I dutifully kissed the Blarney Stone.  Elva chickened out when she saw that to touch the stone with one's lips, the participant must ascend to the castle's peak, then lean over backwards on the parapet's edge, hanging on for dear life to two iron bars, suspended 90 feet above the ground.

The sun greeted us on Day 7 as we drove from Tramore to Waterford, our destination the Waterford Crystal factory in the centre of Ireland’s oldest city.  I’d seen glass blowing before but never the far more complex and intricate art of crystal making.  It takes eight years of apprenticeship and mastery of all stages in the process before an employee achieves the highest rank in the crystal-making trade.  Some of the pieces they make are one-of-a-kind, such as this cute little horse-drawn carriage that will set you back a mere $60,000!

Our next stop was Glendalough, the site of an early medieval monastic settlement founded by St. Kevin in the sixth century.  Although many of the original structures are in ruins, Glendalough is a major tourist attraction as well as an important religious site and pilgrimage destination.  We captured this image of the tiny village of Avoca on our way to the Cherrycreek B&B, our final destination for the day.  Fit for a postcard!

On our last driving day, we headed for Dublin, stopping along the way at Powerscourt, ancestral home of the family of the same name.  The gardens were once ranked #3 in the world by National Geographic but, once you’ve seen Butchart and Versailles, everything else seems unworthy.  Driving into Dublin to drop off our car proved quite an adventure without a GPS.  I got turned around a couple of times, got honked at by impatient taxi drivers, but eventually found my way.  It was nice to get back to our favourite way to see a city: on foot.

Dublin, the Republic’s capital city is home to 1.2 million people.  The city was founded by the Vikings in 983.  Downtown is very walkable and the most interesting tourist sites were close to our cozy hotel.  We started with Trinity College, founded in 1792 and renowned for its ancient library and one of the most famous books of all.  We learned the story of the Book of Kells, an illustrated four-volume set containing the Gospels of the New Testament, created by Irish monks around the year 800 AD.

On our last day in Ireland, we walked to the Guiness Storehouse at St. James Gate, home of the iconic Irish brewery, founded in 1759 by Arthur Guiness.  Today, it’s one of the world’s best-known and most successful beer brands.  We were blown away by the interpretive display at the Storehouse, one of the best we’ve seen in all our travels.  To top it off, we enjoyed a pint at the seventh-floor Gravity Bar, featuring stunning views of the city.

Christchurch Cathedral was the last stop on our list of must-sees in Dublin.  The Cathedral is the seat of two archbishops: Catholic and Church of Ireland (Anglican).  It was founded around 1030 by the Viking King Sitric Silkenbeard upon his return from a pilgrimage to Rome.  The church has been destroyed and rebuilt numerous times, at great cost and sacrifice, and stands proudly today as one of the city’s most impressive landmarks.  And we couldn’t afford to save the Egmont Bay Church!

I can’t leave Ireland without a word about the roads.  An American we met in Galway put it this way: “Whoever designed and built these damn roads should be shot!”  I wouldn’t go quite that far but, suffice to say, the roads here are hell to drive on; an intrusion on the agrarian landscape, wasted farmland, as it were.  There are no ditches; tall hedges and stone walls encroach to within a foot of the edge of the pavement in places; the roads have more curves than a plus-sized model; there’s barely room for two cars to meet, let alone trucks; and sheep have the right-of-way, munching on grass with their butts hanging out, daring you to hit them!

We’d come back to Ireland in a heartbeat.  The scenery is beautiful, the attractions first-class, and you won’t find friendlier people anywhere.  There really are 1,000 shades of green!  As for the rented-car-B&B formula, it was a first for us.  While I found the 2,500-km circumnavigation a bit tiresome, there’s no better way to cover a country like Ireland than by car.  And the B&Bs, mostly four-star, were better than we expected.