We walked to the bus for the ferry in the sun, but with clouds threatening. At 9:30 the bus took us North west out through Claddagh
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| Fire station in Claddagh |
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| The Burren to the south |
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| The Burren in distance with stone walls of Connamara |
It started to rain and we arrived in Rosevalley, for the boat, under a sky so grey and overcast and a land so strewn with stones that you begin to understand my Irish great grandmother's temperment, tough and bittersweet. We boarded the boat in rain and took our Dramamine for the 45 minute crossing.
I went and stood on the outer deck where the wind and the waves were very strong. I watched the seabirds gathering, fishing, then the sun began to poke out as we approached Kilronan or Cill Roan.
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| Kilronan |
Janet proposed a horse and buggy ride, but none were left by the time we got on shore. We considered bikes, but then decide to go with a mini-van tour. Even with these we got the last one with a guy named Bertie who was desperately flagging us down - his only passengers. He tells us 10 Euro each for a three hour tour and it seems a steal so we sign on.
In the front window of Bertie's van we get a sense of a young Irishman and his mother:
Jesus must have been Irish.
He had twelve friends he drank with.
He was a carpenter.
He lived with his mother until he was 33.
He thought his mother was a virgin
And she thought he was God!
A more profane and hyperactive tour guide you will never meet! But we soon learned what this man was made of when he was willing to sacrifice his tour fees for the day if he had to rescue a fallen school girl from a bike accident and taxi her to the clinic. Fortunately the need did not really arise and the girl was all right.
He drove right up to the snack shop hoping to catch more riders and then we set off. Bertie pointed out the elementary school and the high school and where Robert Flaherty shot "Man of Aran" one of the first cinema verite documentaries.
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| The site for Robert Flaherty's "Man of Aran" |
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| Potato fields |
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| Traditional thatch roof cottage |
He showed us the requisite thatched roof huts which he laughingly said about, "we save a few for the tourists," and the neat rows of potato plants. A few billy goats on the stone wall with their mother. He described the stone walls as, "Something to do with all the rocks," and sped around the tiny stone walled roads narrowly missing bikers and other tour bus drivers. He waved and said hello to all the walking tourists hoping for another fare and opened his window and nodded, speaking in Gaelic to all the locals. He is a happy, funny carefree man of about fifty with very clear blue eyes.
He dropped us off at Dun Aengus at 12:30. This is the ancient Celtic fort in the center of the island. We had two hours to explore. Right at the foot was a cafe and a craft village. I looked at the sweaters and right away they are much more expensive than the shop in Galway - 190 euro for a hand knit.
We walk toward the fort - a 20 minute climb. The pony carts are all lined up and way ahead of us. Then there is the visitor center and another few shops, including An Pucan which was recommended to me by one of my students. I went into the smaller shop next to it, Dun Aengus Sweaters on the end and met Sarah Flaherty who has lovely hand knit sweaters in emerald, purple and teal tweed colors for E125 and hats for E15. She charges me a very reasonable rate for a gorgeous purple blue tweed sweater and two hats. Mission accomplished.
She herself wears a ratty sweater made of acrylic which she says her daughter calls, "her rag."
"But it suits me, " she tells me. Sarah promises to keep my sweater while I climb to the fort, but I pop one of the hats on my head to keep me warm - it is cool with overcast skies.
We climb the trail filled with rocky walls and cows. Jagged blocks of limestone jut out of the earth like needles and then the clouds start to part. You can see the village of Kilronan in the distance and the cliffs of the headlands against the waves and sea which is a deep, deep turquoise blue.
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| Limestone rocks |
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| Kilronan is the distance |
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| Example of a ring fort from the Dun Aengus Visitor Center |
The fort itself, built in 1100 BC, is a ring fort made of the limestone blocks. And it looks so modern in design and the dry wall stacking that you would never think that the walls are 3000 years old. One end of the fort is the cliff which drops 280 feet to the crashing waves below.
I crept to the edge, but had to turn back as it was too scary for me. The PWO attendant (look up) there said they have never had an accident or a suicide, unlike the Cliffs of Mohr just across the water and a bit to the south. There are many there and an quite steeper drop of 700 feet. He described one incident only of arriving early one morning to find a sole drunken individual sitting on the ledge above the cliff with his bottle of Jamison's and how he needed to be gently coaxed down the hill.
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| Dun Aengus ring fort |
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| 280 foot drop to the sea |
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| 3000 year old stone walls |
Both the Cliffs of Mohr and the Burren in County Clare west of Limerick can be seen from Inesmore. The guide says there is evidence of ancient funerals with young children's baby teeth on the site. One wonders how these children survived. He described and inner wall toward the middle of the fort (no longer existing) that was probably used to define a domestic more protected area by the wall.
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| Wearing Sarah's hat! |
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| Baskets for |
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| Jack-in-the-Pulpit |
Walking down from the fort brought out the sun and the cows came close enough to almost pet them. They seemed to almost frolic down the hill. Sarah had my sweater as promised and agreed to a photo as long as I did not show her. She said, "It will break your camera." I loved her. What a sweet lady and a talented knitter. She's sold sweaters to Steven Spielberg and Amy Adams to name a few celebrities. I shopped the others stores and picked up a sweater for Dean and a few Celtic crosses to give as presents.
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| Sarah puts her hat on Steve |
Lunch at the cafe with a yellow door. Marvelous vegetable soup, brown bread and chicken sandwiches. I was starving. Bertie waited for us and had picked up another "fare" - Shirley from Virginia. She had bought several leprechauns in the sweater shop to put on her refrigerator.
We went to see the seven churches next. The remains of old Romanesque churches and an ancient graveyard which is still quite actively used, with numerous relatives of Bertie. The oldest graves dated back to the 9th century of 5 roman scholars who had come to study with Irish monks attesting to the interest in Celtic learning in the Medieval world. Bertie had shown us the house where he was born. Bertie was non-stop commentary and sound effects with his dare devil driving and wise cracks.
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| Seven churches graveyard |
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| Remains of seven churches and graveyard |
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| Graves of Roman Scholars |
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| The ancient alongside the new |
Next we went to see the seals. Big fat seals sunning on the rocks among the kelp. The sun has finally come out and I am surprised to see that the water is aquamarine like the Caribbean. I asked if he called them selkies. He said that was a movie term for seals and that he was still waiting to see "The Secret of Roan Inish," in which a woman turns into seal and steals a baby boy who she raises in the wild among the other seals. Roan is the Gaelic world for seal and inish is the word for island.
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| Seals sunning on the rocks |
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| Our colorful tour guide |
All of the touring school kids on their bikes crowded our van and I thought Bertie was going to kill someone but he was very deft. By four pm he drove us back to the harbor where the sky was clear and deep blue and my camera is about the die! The Burren and the Cliffs of Mohr are clear in the distance.
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| The Burren and the Cliff's of Mohr to the east in the distance |
We spent the last half hour sitting under a Celtic cross listening to a local musician practicing on his banjo for an evening gig. I picked up a few seashells from the harbor - cockle shells.
Then we boarded the ferry for home. Unfortunately my camera was dead, but the light of the sky and the water on the white houses and green fields with Burren in the distance, was astoundingly beautiful as the sun was lowering in the sky. I will always remember it and want to return.
We had dinner at Maxwells and walked around town to Tig Coili. But then we discovered Naughton's the other classic old pub, but neither has music till later and we are tired after our day on the island. Instead we walked along the canal and watched the river rushing dark and dangerous. Such a dynamic city all shadows and light; dark grey and white clouds with patches of blue. We walked over to Claddagh and watched about twelve swans congregate in the harbor in the waning sunlight.
We ended up Garvey's a more local pub on our way back to the Four Seasons. A rock-a-billy band playing songs from the 50's and several couples swing dance amazingly well as if they do this on a weekly basis. Then the bar fills up with American college kids when their Viking tour bus drops them off at the bar wearing viking hats and wigs and drinking shots. Tomorrow we drive back to Dublin and hope to see the Torei Rock on the way home.
