Éire go Brách - Part IX

The last two days have been pretty easy going. I did take a slightly extended walk yesterday to deliver my pilfered car key which also took me close to Croke Park, which is a stadium where a majority of Ireland's Gaelic games are played. The games consist mostly of football (similar to Australian Rules football) and hurling (similar to their football but with short hockey-like sticks). The stadium has a museum dedicated to the games of the Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA). Now I'm not exactly the most sports minded person. I couldn't get two shits about any of the popular sports back home, so I'd be lying if I said I was a fan of those here in Ireland. However, I was right there and it's a big part of Irish culture so I figured why not. The museum in split in two levels. The lower level is all about the history of sports in Ireland, in Celtic history, and to a lesser degree the world. This part I found quite interesting and it's extremely well produced and laid out. The upper floor is all about the modern teams, stars, winners and has several interactive exhibits to show off your complete inability to do anything remotely sporty. This part was not my favorite, but it did give some burly guy an excuse to show off his burliness to his date. For those particularly interested you can also take a tour of the stadium itself whenever there aren't games going on. I didn't take part in the tour cause...I don't really care.

Éire go Brách - Photos Part V

Éire go Brách - Part VIII

I think it's funny that a tiny, frigid room with two bunkbeds and not much more makes for the best night sleep I've had in Ireland. The owner gave me a small electric radiator, but I never bothered to turn it on because I was quite comfortable under the slightly small but very warm blanket. The bed was no more or less comfortable than any other bed I've slept on. Maybe it was the simplicity of it all. Regardless, I slept rather well and woke up in time for breakfast in a place that doesn't serve breakfast. I didn't realize it that night, but in the daylight (and it was starting out a bright, sunny day) it became apparent that the hostel was maybe 30 feet from a nice little cliff with a beach down below. I took in the vista for a few minutes and then took the 20-ish minute drive to the Cliffs of Moher. When I arrived it was partly cloudy and there was still a heavy morning mist which gave the cliffs an almost cinematic look. It's a striking view even without the theatrics, but with a little ambiance it was spectacular. It's the second time that my apprehension of a mainstream tourist attraction has pleasantly surprised me (the first was Peggy's Cove in Nova Scotia). The way the park is set up you have a visitors center within a very short walk of the main view of the cliffs. For quite a few people, that seemed to be enough for them. It's sort of the fast food of tourism. However, there are paths of to the left or right for different views. In fact, the visitor center for the cliffs represents a sort of halfway point of a roughly 18 kilometer trail. I only went about half a kilometer in either direction as it gets very rugged and supposedly a bit difficult beyond the maintained portions of the visitor center. I wasn't prepared in any way for that kind of endeavor, despite the fact that it would obviously provide some stunning views, including the ruins of an old watchtower.

After strolling back and forth along the cliffs I stopped for a little food at the cafe inside the visitor center. There's a tiny coffee shop cafe when you first walk in, but upstairs there's a full service, cafeteria style deal. The coffee shop just inside the visitor's center has some lasagna, quiche, and soups that they can heat up for you and after having a rather mediocre shepherd's pie I think I might have been better off with that. Still, it was food and it did the job and I was set to head out. I made a decent effort to drive around and catch a view of the area called The Burren (a huge, rocky, partially barren, limestoney area) but between the remoteness of most of the trails at the national park, my aforementioned lack of preparedness for a serious jaunt, and all the other facilities of the area being closed for the season I decided to skip The Burren. After mostly aimlessly driving around for an hour I chose to head down towards the Ring of Kerry. It's a nice drive down some slightly less harrowing roads, through some beautiful towns. I'd love to spend a day wandering around the town of Adare with the old Holy Trinity Abbey church and the impressive Adare Manor. Maybe on another trip, though. I was only about 3 hours into my drive and had just gotten onto the circular route known as the Ring of Kerry that circumnavigates the coastal County Kerry, but I was already losing the light and I just happened to passed by a hotel, the Towers Hotel in Glenbeigh, that looked like it was open. Although portions of the hotel were closed (the restaurant, and thus bed and breakfast portion of it) the pub was open and serving food and the woman I assumed was the owner gave me a super-cheap rate on a very nice room. I had dinner in the pub, which was a really nice grilled fish (I swear she called the fish a Hick, but I'll be damned if I can find that fish listed anywhere), and an interesting take of apple pie - it was thin, almost like a turnover, and covered in custard. It was a pretty good meal and the room was definitely a deal. The wifi was limited to the pub, so I spent the rest of the evening chilling out.

The next day I woke up just before checkout and hit the road. The Ring of Kerry is a 179 kilometer (111 miles) ring road that more or less starts and ends in Killarney. The road takes you along peninsular coasts, through rolling sheep pastures, and then winds through Killarney National Park. It's a fun drive in the right car, luckily the Golf is pretty zippy and handles really well, and rolls through some great scenery. There are a limited number of pull-offs along the road with some being no more than a slightly wider shoulder on one side but others having ample parking and even some signage and minor monuments. Although the speed limit along most of the Ring of Kerry is 80kph (~50mph), it's so twisty, rolly, narrow, and pretty that there weren't too many places I went that fast. About an hour into the ride of stopped at a place called Bake My Day somewhere near the little town of Caherdaniel. Despite it being lunch time I hadn't eaten and the heartiest thing on the menu looked to be their version of a full Irish breakfast. It was absolutely delicious. It had a variety of sausages (including blood sausage), a couple rashers of bacon that didn't taste like crappy ham or Canadian bacon, a variety of sides, and a basket of bread. It was easily the best breakfast I've had in Ireland (not that I've been awake for many). While eating and enjoying some tea I managed to wait out a heavy but short-lived downpour. I drove the remainder of the Ring back to Killarney, stopping a few times to check out the views, fall down some hills, climb over a small creek to check out the ruins of an old fort, fall down a rock. By the end of my drive my shoes and socks were wet, I had dirt up and down my pants (which were also mostly wet), and a few scrapes and bruises. Unfortunately by the time I got back to Killarney it was time to head back to Dublin. It was a mostly easy drive up until about 30 minutes outside of Dublin where the rain had caused several wrecks and I spent about an hour in stop and go traffic to go about 10km. I eventually got the rental car back to the airport, took the bus back to the center of Dublin and got up to my room only to realize I had left the room key in the car (I think) and had stolen the car key. The hotel has a spare, but I have to figure out a way to get the car key back to the rental place. That's a problem for tomorrow.

Éire go Brách - Photos Part IV

Éire go Brách - Part VII

Yesterday was get out of Dublin day so I took a bus to the airport to pick up my rental car. I was expecting some ridiculously tiny thing but ended up with a spiffy little Volkswagen Golf TDI. Driving here in Ireland has been an intimidating prospect since I started planning the trip. Driving on the left side of the road from the right side of the car just feels all kinds of backwards to me. There are so many little nuances you don't think about when driving in your native country that suddenly come front and center and constantly require thought and reaction. Which lane is the fast lane on the highway? Can you turn left on red? Will reactions to sudden changes kill me since I'm programmed backwards? Then getting in the car is a whole other host of issues. Looking over my left shoulder to back up is suddenly full of blind spots I've never seen. Is my left tire even on the road anymore? I have no sense of awareness of where the car is on the road. The first hour was a mixture of "Oh fuck I'm going to die!" and "Fuck it, I can only die once." Surprisingly I've only been honked at once and that was trying to get over on a roundabout because I had no idea where I wanted to go until I saw the exit. What I thought was certain to end in an international incident has been, at worst anxiety inducing, and at best just another road trip. Driving in the dark down narrow back roads with no shoulder and stone walls immediately on either side with some assholes bright lights in my eyes is definitely on the anxiety side. Rolling over hills through lush green countrysides, with sheep on one side and the ocean on the other...well that's pretty damn nice.

Éire go Brách - Photos Part III

Éire go Brách - Part VI

As I mentioned yesterday, I planned to spend today wandering down toward the waterfront. It's a pretty good walk, about 3 miles, from my room to where I was heading so once I got out I started straight away. I started out taking some side streets between my room and the River Liffey that bisects the city. About half way there I stopped in at a pub along the way called Graingers where I had a pretty good Shepherd's Pie in a place that oddly enough wasn't completely decked out in dark old wood like every other pub I've been in. In fact it was a surprisingly cheery looking place considering it's a pub, with contrasting light and dark blues and embossed walls and ceiling. Graingers isn't on the busiest city centre streets, but it does have a pretty good corner location and had a fair amount of traffic while I was in there. After Graingers I made it river-side and strolled down the way towards Dublin's port area. It's a nice walk with lots of bike paths built in, lots of runners going to and fro, and several bridges that cross the Liffey including a large white suspension bridge strung up like a tilted harp. Part of the way along the river is the tall ship Jeanie Johnston, a replica of an 1850s trading ship that ferried emigrants from Dublin to North America and then timber back to Europe. It had scaffolding on the stern and workers hammering about on deck so I didn't check it out, assuming it was closed.

Éire go Brách - Photos Part II

Éire go Brách - Part V

Today I didn't really know what I wanted to do. There are still plenty of things I want to do, but nothing was really calling me. I thought about the fact that I never made it to Trinity College my first full day here so I decided to fix that and go see the Book of Kells and the Long Room housed there while I was at it. After grabbing some lunch at what has become my go-to place near my room, The Parnell, I took the short walk down to the Trinity College campus. Trinity College is a very old college, founded in 1592, and the older parts of the modern college grounds date from somewhere in the mid-1700s. It's an interesting campus because it's in the center of downtown Dublin, but once you walk through the doors of the main gate you are instantly in the world of academia and could almost forget the double-decker buses, taxis, and street sweepers outside. But it's also a very busy campus as it's an active college but also one of the biggest tourist attractions in the city because of the Book of Kells. Fortunately for the students there are a limited number of places the average tourist can get into, so they do have their sanctuaries, but the grounds themselves are wide open and teeming with people. The main attraction to the college is, of course, the Book of Kells.

Éire go Brách - Part IV

After a day of rest I found myself more or less back in action. Still a little sore from the back and forth, in and around walking involved with my trip to cemetery - but still, mostly mobile. I once again missed breakfast, but powered by some cookies I bought from the grocery store the day before (and washing it down with some orange soda I store on the ledge outside my window to keep cool) I walked the great distance of half a block to Dublin City Gallery (aka The Hugh Lane after it's founder and primary contributor) which houses a pretty nice collection of contemporary and modern artists. I'm no art critic or historian so my take on the museum is just as a guy who likes pretty pictures. The museum, or more likely the collection left to the museum by it's patron Hugh Lane, seems to heavily favor landscape artists. It has a nice collection of landscapes by John Constable, Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot, and Irish landscape artist Nathaniel Hone. The museum also has a small, but very nice collection of well known pieces from Degas, Monet, Manet, Pissarro, and Renoir. Not surprisingly, the bulk of the visible collection deals with artists with ties to Ireland and especially Dublin including a sizable gifted collection by modern Dublin artist Sean Scully, and a meticulously recreated installation of Francis Bacon's studio. The Francis Bacon studio is an odd thing to spend such a large amount of gallery real estate as the museum does. Backed by documentary and photographic evidence, the studio is a faithful recreation of the Dublin-born artist's incredibly messy studio using his actual, incredible mess. They have a ridiculous catalog of everything that was in his studio when he passed away, presenting select items (like what was on his bookshelf) as an exhibit of their won. Being only passingly familiar with the artist, and not even remotely a fan of his work, it just seemed odd. Overall the museum is full of great Irish works, some art superstars that get regularly loaned to the National Gallery of London, and a weird fascination with Francis Bacon.

Éire go Brách - Photos Part I

Éire go Brách - Part III

It was yet another late start, which if it keeps up I'm going to call it my normal start. I don't know if it was the unplanned nap, too many cups of tea too close to bed, or just shit luck, but I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned until about sun up and finally dozed off for a few hours sleep, though I kept trying for a while more. By the time I got out of bed it was more lunch time than breakfast time. I didn't want to let the late start or lack of sleep totally derail the day so I made for the streets and headed for Glasnevin Cemetery about a 1.5 mile walk north of where I'm staying. It wasn't raining on the way up, but pretty much the moment I passed the cemetery gates it started to rain. Then it started to pour. The cemetery has a museum that I was going to hide in for a while, but it was closed for a private function. After seeing several older gentlemen with various medals and patches, I assumed it had to do with Veteran's Day, Remembrance Day, Armistice Day...whatever you call it in your part of the world. I wasn't familiar with the tradition, but most people were wearing poppies pinned to their lapels in observation of the day. Instead, I hid out in the adjoining cafe and sipped on some tea to see if the rain gave way.

After about an hour, the rain had only intensified and the day wasn't getting any longer so I zipped up the jacket, popped up the hood, and traipsed through the cemetery in the rather appropriate weather. The cemetery is supposed to be the final resting place for over 1 million Dubliners, including one of the country's greatest historical figures Michael Collins. Glasnevin is also the site of the large O'Connel round tower, which rests atop the crypt of Daniel O'Connell - another major figure in Ireland's past. The cemetery encompasses an area of 124 acres and has headstones and monuments from as far back as 200 years ago. It has a wide range of simple stones, elaborate monuments to religious figures, and a variety of crypts. There are guided tours offered to give you a brief history and a smattering of greatest hits, but I missed the earlier tours and the later tour was canceled because of the event they were hosting. At this point I was thoroughly soaked, a good time to discover the slightly-less-than-waterproofness of my jacket (not helped at all by me sweating inside it), I had stomped into several deep puddles, and figured I might was well cross the gate from the cemetery to the National Botanic Garden.

Éire go Brách - Part II

I had a little bit of a late start today as I rolled over a few times to go back to sleep, obviously trying to make up for the recent lack. I got down the the dining room right as they were cleaning up their breakfast service, but they were kind enough to give me a plate of still mostly warm breakfast. What they call a full Irish breakfast is a plate with a couple sausage links, a bit of ham, an egg (mine was over easy), a thick slice of cooked (baked?) tomato, and a helping of baked beans. It wasn't going to win any awards, but it's tasty and hearty mix that lasted me quite a while. I imagine it's a bit better when you don't wait until the last and get the last bits of breakfast.

With an already late start I wasn't in much of a hurry to get out the door and I didn't have much in mind for the day. When I finally did make it down to the street it was gloomy but the rain was holding off so I decided to just walk around, heading southerly towards Trinity College. I managed to get a bit turn around trying to navigate some road work and ended up going all around the college without ever making it onto the ground. I ended up south of the college in a small greenspace called Merrion Square Park. Despite the fact that it's only an area roughly one block by two blocks, it's well wooded and once inside it feels far more secluded than it really is. After walking through the park and down a couple blocks I ducked into small pub called Doheny & Nesbitt. It's an old-style pub full of dark wood and teeming with little nooks and crannies for groups and couples to tuck away. I had a pint, and for some reason I felt compelled to order the soup of the day (a delicious leek soup) despite the fact I wasn't even remotely hungry. They have lots of traditional music at nights and the place is supposed to get extremely packed after work. It's a place I definitely want to check out again.

Éire go Brách - Part I

There's really not a whole lot to report on my first day in Ireland. It was sunny when I got here and gloomy when I left the airport. For shits and giggles I looked at the 7-day forecast for home, which stated a week of sunshine, and compared it to the week of rain for Ireland. Don't get me wrong...this is what I was expecting. The sun beaming in my face as I came down the escalator for the bus rank at the airport was like a nice little welcome, but I knew it wasn't what was in the cards for me the rest of the trip. I like the rain...I'm good. I was sleep deprived but managed to get a few good pints and some stew in before I called it a night. If you're interested in the minutia, keep reading.

Prelude To A Trip

So I have really sucked at updating this blog for trips. I didn't even realize it until several months after getting back that I never even finished chronicling the trip up the west coast. It was a combination of lack of internet and sleep, with an abundance of driving and trying to get as much in with what time I had left. At some point my cats died while I was gone too. Dealing with the death of pets, regardless of the fact that I mostly disliked said pets, is interesting. Luckily I had people back at the homestead to deal with most of it for me. The rest of the trip wasn't any less memorable, but after months had passed, and memory was becoming unreliable it seemed harder and harder to make myself chronicle those last days. In short, I saw several scenic vistas that took my breath away at a point in my trip when I was beginning to fear I was becoming immune to such things. I made it to The Oregon Vortex, a place very very similar to The Mystery Spot, and then decided it was time to start heading back towards Albuquerue. I drove day and night through southern Oregon, northern Nevada, large chanks of Utah (including a stop in SLC for delicious kouing aman from Les Madeline). Maybe one day I'll take the time to recreate that portion of my trip and sneak it in like it was never missing.