Category: The Irish Posts

Prior to our trip, the Cliffs of Moher is the landmark I most closely associated with Ireland. Perhaps it’s now the wild Connemara, but anyway, the Cliffs did not disappoint. It was rainy and windy, so we didn’t feel inclined to walk the full length of the cliffs, particularly in view of the multiple warnings. The cliffs are sheer and stunning and I refrained from shouting “As you wish”, much to Derek’s relief (he didn’t know this crossed my mind, but he would have been relieved had he realised my internal ruminations).

In summary, the cliffs were magnificent. The cloudy weather and heavy mist added to the sense of foreboding and I would like to go again on a clear sunny day, walking the length of the cliffs. We did view the cliffs from the ocean on a trip from the Aran island of Inisheer the next day.

The rugged and lovely Connemara was the beginning of our journey along the Wild Atlantic Way. Derek managed to avoid the large sheep and sleek cows that grazed along the impossibly green hillsides, with rivers, and oceans far below the narrow, room for one car only roads. Ireland is in the middle of a drought. En-route to our hostel accommodation, we sat in the car (the rain being too heavy to venture out) listening to Enya’s A Day Without Rain, eating our lunch of delicious celery with mint and beetroot dip. We then stopped at the impressive Kylemore Abbey which has a comparatively recent past and is more significant for its beauty and incredible surroundings than for its history (built in the late 1800s by a wealthy politician and owned by the Benedictine community since 1920.)

The following day we headed into the National Park for a walk. Despite the exhilarating view as we walked up one of the higher Connemara slopes, the walk is most memorable because I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to being blown off a cliff.

Many Catholic Irish landholders had their land redistributed to the English in the 1600s, and people moved further to the West of Ireland. Famine also pushed the Irish west. This region is more Celtic and Irish (otherwise known as Gaelic) is spoken as much as English. The Irish people are very proactive in preserving their culture and the once nearly dead language is a large part of this effort. All Irish children learn Gaelic at school and many schools teach English as a second language.

I hear no tour of Ireland or Scotland is complete without the requisite whisky tour. I also understand Derek could not hold his head up high on our return if he had not done at least one of these tours, so I organised to get it out of the way on our first full day in Ireland, booking in for 5.30pm on our return from Newgrange and Hill of Tara. I did not expect to find that not only is whisky gluten-free, but that I liked it. For some reason I assumed whisky contained gluten, given its barley origins, but apparently, it’s like glucose syrup derived from wheat – so highly processed that the gluten protein is non-detectable. I don’t like beer, but then I haven’t tried it since my teens, so perhaps it was only cheap, and I might like a higher quality beer. Can’t repine – I will not find out, since beer does contain gluten and must be a source of heart-break to a newly diagnosed coeliac who enjoys a beer, only to be compared with losing the joy of biting into chewy, soft bread, and why do I do this to myself? Anyway, it appears I enjoy whisky, and in subsequent days had the pleasure of a Guinness whilst listening to traditional music in an Irish Pub. Now a Scottish whisky tour is more likely…

I’m aware that every travel story must have some glitches but it wasn’t our arrival in Dublin (just).

We arrived on schedule (mid-day in Ireland) to a lovely AirBnB apartment a stones throw from Halfpenny Bridge. The potential glitch of not knowing the location of our lodging was averted due to the wonderful promptness of our apartment manager in replying to our panicked text message asking for an address. Derek, ordinarily superbly organised with spreadsheets but sleep deprived after 18 hours in an air-born cylinder, didn’t realise that he had in fact written down the address, so we hopped on a shuttle bus from the airport and texted our AirBnB host on the way.

After settling in we walked to St. Patrick’s Cathedral (Ireland’s largest church, built between 1191 and 1270) for an evensong service. The usual choir was on recess and we had the privilege of listening to the magnificent Houston Church Choir . The atmosphere of the otherwise reverant service was occasionally altered through enthusiastic tourist clapping. There were two readings and we said the Apostles Creed.

The day concluded with grocery shopping, all by 4am Perth time. Special dietary considerations (coeliac) are both advantageous and a spoiler. On the up-side, we save time and money through enforced planning, and self-catering. On the down-side, we’re heading to Paris…

Later in the evening (Ireland time) we could hear a sing-along through the open window of our apartment from somewhere else in the complex.  We woke to the birds singing.

In the posts to come, in keeping with Irish culture, I promise (to the best of my ability) eloquence, considered arguments, historical anecdotes, in-depth summaries of world affairs of great significance, and perhaps in a moment of weakness, to let you know my steps for the day.

It’s a time to evaluate, ponder and listen. Listen to God, and listen to the quiet part of my brain that doesn’t usually get a hearing in my task-oriented life in a fast-changing world.