3 – Ireland

The ferry to Ireland was fun.
Maybe a bit windy. Normal people sat inside in comfort. Not the tourists.

Really windy!

Then into Dublin we go. Trinity College.

We rode a HoHo (Hop on Hop off) bus again and the best thing out of that was that smack in the middle of this major Irish city is both a Guinness factory and a loony bin. Perhaps there is more justification for the stereotype of the mad or the drunken Irish.
The driver was hilarious with his commentary and his thick thick accent. “If you look to ta lift trough the trees, …..”

Dublin is incredibly different to the rest of Great Britain – they have a “Wide Streets Commission” and so the streets are – you guessed it – wide. Everywhere else we have been has had teeny tiny streets that you have to scrape by the other cars, mirrors literally millimetres from touching in some parts. In Dublin however the streets are wide, multiple lanes, parking space and breathing space. Space, space everywhere. And the drivers were pigs.
After that we went to a game of Hurling. Hurling is a Gallic sport played up here. Take rugby, field hockey, ice hockey, European hand ball and add a at-whatever-costs mentality and there you have hurling. Oh and don’t forget the cricket ball with lead inside it (they add lead to make the ball bounce slower)hit with a paddle bat and the mildly encouraged violence.

Fast, furious and savage.
This was a sport you could really get into. It is incredible; you have to see it to believe it. We were watching an under 21’s national semi final and it was scary. The crowd also was something worth watching, they get so into it. The field is also used for soccer games and is ringed with a concrete fence with razor wire at the top.

They use something like a field hockey stick with the end pounded flat to hit the ball like you do in hockey, but also to balance it on the flat part (like a violent egg and spoon race) to bounce the ball with (like before serving in tennis – but fast) to hit the ball far like a cricket bat (but served like tennis or hit on the full. There is a lot of variation in any case. It really seemed to be “do whatever you can to get the ball into the goal”.

Their ability to catch a ball in their bare hand, that had been whacked like furry all the way at the other end of the field, was amazing. It must have hurt. Speaking of hurt, three guys went down in the first half, it was really quiet distressing, I was sure they were going to be badly hurt, but they all got up. Tough lads. Oh because you also get about six guys pilling on around the ball all gunning for it, people fall over, get hit by another player or get hit in the balls by the ball – as happened to one unfortunate player.

One of the highlights though, was the two players that got into a bit of a scuffle. One was barging into the other who would in turn elbow him in the ribs. You could clearly see how pissed off they were at each other. They got a warning for that. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a fight later that evening or week.
The game was sensational and I wouldn’t have missed it. If you ever get a chance to catch a game of hurling, do.
Day 10. 24th June. Dublin, Bru na Bonnie and Giants’s Causeway.
This morning we set off again ready to brave the horrors of navigation in Dublin city. Oddly, Dublin is the first city or town we have yet been to with streets more then three centimetres wide and it is a city of one-way streets. This is an infuriating combination, plus Elizabeth Wooten-Bassett seems to not know that many of these streets are one-way. In any case, we did eventually make it out alive.
We headed off on another long road trip, a long few days of driving lay ahead with multiple stops and destinations.

The first of these was Bu Na Bonnie (Newgrange) a 5,000 year old burial mound. But it is more then a burial mound. It is a mound in which cremated human remains were found . Who knows what it was for, but in any case, it is magical. I cannot describe how breathtaking this place is. From the outside it does not look so special, just a mound of grass with a stone wall at one side. The stonewall part has been reconstructed out of the original stone that was found collapsed in the 60s’.
Now entering is something that I am unsure should be done, due to the interpretation of the construction. But that was all forgotten the second we entered. It is a stone construction that forms a sort of cave with a tunnel leading to it. The central cavern is as it was 5,000 years ago. The construction was so well built that it has remained in tact and entirely waterproof since then.
The tunnel has above it, a light box. A small opening above the door that lines up precisely with the solstice sunrise. The light streams in, illuminating the inner sanctum. Maybe it sounds sappy but I could really feel the magic here. A real connection to the earth and history and an astonishing agelessness.

The stone inside has a fair amount of graffiti on it, which seems quite appalling but is softened by the fact that some of the graffiti is dated. One stood out to me, a name, A M McAlroy, 1822. I wonder who he was. (I assume it was a he, might have been a she).

We managed a great success here by the time of our arrival, everywhere tells you that the place opens at 9:30am and you have to queue up at the visitors center and catch busses to the site and be herded in in droves. But Raina and “her incredibly anal and obsessive research managed” as described by Sarah,  worked out that it is in fact the mound itself that opens at 9:30 and busses begin at 9. So most people planning to be early rock up at half past, we and only two others were there at 8.30am and so only four people and the guide were in our group, the next bus in had 30 people. Nice dodge.

A drive up the very pretty Atrim coast. Famous for its beautiful beaches and coastal views followed. Views I will give it ……

but as for beaches – pfft ptfffft lol, pebbly, rocky and cold is expected but what you don’t see on the calendars is the stench.

I think it is because of the seaweed that washes up on the beach and then rots. But the beaches were all putrid smelling, disgusting rank and best avoided. And of course castles.
Next we hit up the Giant’s causeway. This was why we drove so far. A remarkable geological phenomenon, something I still struggle to believe is natural and not man made. I think what happened was volcanic rock rose at a high rate and temperature from deep in the earth. Once it came into contact with the oxygen and cold ocean it cooled quickly, solidified and cracked like glass. It cracked in a remarkable geometric and even honeycomb pattern and bits rose higher then others with dead flat tops. 

The more fun legend version of the creation of the Giant’s Causeway is that the Giant who lived there was fighting with a giant on a neighboring island (Scotland), throwing rocks at him and built the causeway (which looks remarkably like a staircase) so as to get closer to his target and throw stones more easily.

We spent the evening in a lovely B&B with a crack-a-lacking view and a pub for dinner with mussels and Guinness. 
…..made Guinness moustaches….

and generally had fun.

Also, it was cold…

Day 11. 25th June. Burren and Doolin 
We started of by heading to The Burren, a portion of Ireland that is karst landscape. (Karst is formed by the dissolving of mainly limestone, and is often like honeycomb). A desolate looking rock strewn and wind swept environment. It is insane – this completely inhospitable looking land which is actually rather abundant in life. Between the rocks small ferns and grasses and flowers grow protected from the wind. 

We started with the best ever strawberries from a road side stall. So good that after scoffing the first punnet, we turned around and drove back for more!
We went to see are some ancient (over 5,000 years old) structures. Just a small organised construction of rocks, like the little bark huts children make in gardens. Pretty incredible really.
The rocks in this landscape blew me away, and more incredible is that people farm here, they manage to live and grow things here. We saw one freshly plowed field and the soil was more rock then dirt.

We saw lots of sweet little funny things like a donkey putting its head over a high wall to look at us over the stone fence.

How the trees – or rather bushes, no trees grow here – grow on this amazing angle all as far as you can see pointing in the same direction as the constant wind has shaped them.
It actually astounds me though that we managed to find any of the actual sights on our list to see. In Ireland it is incredibly difficult to ever find anything. The untimely progression of Elizabeth Wooten-Basset’s nurological disorder does not assist this issue, as she sometimes direct us and other times does not, but even so. There will be a sign to whatever it is you want to see and then you might follow these signposts for a few corners till they simply disappear, most unhelpful.
Anyway we did manage to see some things today and otherwise had a great time being stupid and giggling…a lot.
Day 12. 26th June. Doolin, Blarney
Today we set out to drive the picturesquely stunning Cliffs of Moher and the Ring of Kerry. This is a circuit highway route that takes you past some stunning inland scenery and the even more stunning coastal scenery including Skellig Islands. This would have been brilliant I assume, alas it seems our scenic pallet is not finely tuned enough to properly appreciate the glorious scenery of pure white nothing. 
Yes, today there was a spot of fog. Like a lot of it. But still we had fun being ridiculous children throwing cookie crumbs on each other and other such nonsense.
We occasionally saw some landscape…but never of the sea or the cliffs.

And the roads. very busy…and very narrow. VERY!

We did see people on the side of the road, gaffer taping their mirrors back on.
Eventually we made it to Blarney, home of the Blarney Castle and of course the Blarney Stone.

We went to the castle, which is a very cool castle. A bit tourist-ed up but not enough to ruin it. The view from the top is a pretty spectacular one of the surrounding gardens, I can imagine it may have been like that in the 1500’s. Except then I realize that it more likely would have been disgusting mud slosh with pigs and goats and peasant markets and farming all around it.

Once atop we – both of us – kissed the blarney stone. This is an interesting experience as the top level of the castle has drainage gaps all around it that you can see straight down to the ground, a very long way. The Blarney Stone itself is the lowermost stone on the outer wall. So to reach the stone you have to lie down with your head facing the wall and feet facing the center of the castle. From here you proceed to (with the assistance of a lovely old Irish man grooping you) holding on to rails running down the wall, lower yourself upside down and smooch away.

I was expecting it to be far more frightening but in the end it wasn’t so bad. Because you are upside down you become totally disoriented and aren’t really able to realize how far below the ground is. That, on top of the logical knowledge that you can not really fall because there are bloody great metal bars secured just below, made the whole experience really not scary at all.
So we kissed the Blarney Stone and hopefully have contracted the gift of the gap (as that is it’s magic) and hopefully nothing else.
That night we stayed in Blarney at another pub and I finally found a coffee shop. Ahhh, the first in many days. Sarah was happy. Sigh
Day 13. 27th June. Blarney, Thomastown, Dublin.
Another day of driving through the Irish countryside. More pretty stuff, more cool stuff like all the local dairy farmers driving their trailers of milk to the depot.

We went to Limerick and composed some limericks