We stayed at an Airbnb in a room at the top of the stairs, in someone’s family home, in Liscannor, at the tip of the Cliff of Moher. We had full access to bright stars, the sounds and smell of the sea while we slept.
We could see the ancient Hags Head from our room. We took a rigorous and lengthy sunset hike, through the cattle dung, (they move them from pasture to paddock on the road) to Hag’s Head.
We hiked Cliffs of Moher the next day while rain pour down all around us.
In Galway, we stayed for a stretch in a bar that had one musician after another, each 90 minutes. The place was packed and there was one table near the band where a middle aged couple was sitting at at table for 4. The woman mentioned us to join them. They were dairy farmers from the area near Newgrange. They were on a rare get away, while their third son carried on the twice daily two hour milking routine on the farm. Finally we’d met some real Irish people who were willing to share stories from their lives! They told us what is was like to fight the pubic system to get assistance with raising their fist two sons who are both autistic. The Government told them they didn’t want to 'label' the boys but the family was sure it was only to prevent them from getting any kind of public assistance. They said it would be cheaper and a grander adventure to go to Spain for their get away but they didn’t want to add to the carbon footprint by taking aircraft. They explained moving the cows from one paddock to another and measuring the length of the grass to know when it had grown back sufficiently to be grazed again.
We had a welcome relief from driving in the city and parking etc. when we took opportunity to ride in a taxi. Both drivers, downtown from our motel and back, were quite ‘fatherly’ and good conversationalists. We felt safe. We were kinda sad for the college girls in this town that wore scanty clothing, barely covering their body. It was cold with our sweaters on.
We stayed at a delightful bed and breakfast, Riverdale House, the next night in Athlone, where Sean’s bar claims to be the oldest in Ireland, almost 1000 years old. It appeared to me they sold more merchandise than alcohol. We also drove out into the country and looked though a museum with tons of artifacts from the years, medical, farming, household, sports, they covered everything.
It was a nice compliment to the mainstream tourist sites and the overall feeling of history. On the way back we found more ice cream. As I write this I am craving the smooth, creamy, delicious frozen Irish cream. Our hosts at Riverdale House gave us delightful suggestions to visit on our route to Newgrange the next day. Without his guidance we'd have missed Kilbeggan Distillery, Trim Castle, (Braveheart filmed here) Bective Abbey & The Hill of Tara.
At Sean’s Bar, we chatted with a couple from Chicago, Noreen and Bryan. They were traveling Ireland to the Watertown area along the West coast to bring some of Noreen’s mother’s ashes to be spread in the cemetery where six of her mother’s siblings were buried. She had called in all the cousins to be there and was excited to be able to pay homage to her heritage in this way. She recommended a tour her cousin gives there along a privately owned ancient fjord. The name is Lost Valley Tour.
She and her husband both are first generation immigrants from Ireland. She explained that all of their parents had been born and raised in Ireland as Catholics. I freely expressed my consternation over the many Catholic private schools throughout the country saying, “What happened to the Native beliefs?” Since this had bothered me as a felt sense of disrespect to the native dwellers, I asked Noreen several questions. Both she and Bryan has been received all their education in Catholic schools. She said her mother adopted Catholicism without giving up her old ways. She blended the two. I was quite curious to learn more; how she did that?
Although she wasn’t from Ireland, Noreen had a bit of inside information I was eager to learn. I took the opportunity to pick her brain. She talked only briefly, however while her husband went to the bar to refresh their Guinness she leaned over and told me, “He doesn’t like for me to talk about this. His mother was very ridge in her Catholicism and out of respect to her and his upbringing we don’t discuss this.” Before he returned, she quickly shared that she has cousins here who can show you the faerie rings, you just have to ask the right people. She mentioned that both her mother and her daughter had/have The Sight (ability to see deeper than 'as things appear') and access to The Old Ways.
For several days I felt sadness that her voice was silenced around this important part of her heritage. My sadness for Noreen eventually dissipated except to the extent that she is part of a collective of people who were fiercely instructed that is was immoral to believe as they did. My heart still aches for all of Ireland and the aggression and oppression they survived and emerged from to these current times. They are truly hospitable, friendly and joyful. I am comforted thinking that there are those who, maybe quietly, keep alive bits and pieces of their ancestry, as Noreen’s mother did.
And then I remember that I am committed to remaining neutral and my judging history may actually be contributing to the division we are currently experiencing. Can't we simply respect one another's differences peacefully?
We both were blown away by the ancient tombs, castles and monasteries. It was fascinating to walk into a tomb built five thousand years ago that was still structurally sound. What a mystery. I can only imagine the traditions and rituals around the stone circles and the stories that were told by fireside. The Airbnb we stayed at here was on a working farm, very basic accommodations as we observed current poverty and animal husbandry.
We found what we were looking for, and so much more. The music was wonderful and although I am sure we missed a lot of great music, I am grateful for the music that did flow through our hearts. Mostly I think I loved the tin horn and the old time pipes. We saw the pipes played twice. Once by an old traditional musician at a concert in a church in Dingle,
and again in a bar in Doolin by a young woman who was extremely talented. Watch for her, she’s going places with grace and beauty! Her band is Tara Howley Music.
Here is a brief sample of her exquisite work.
This trip was merely a getting familiar with the customs and ways and landscapes, and music and mostly consisted of observation. To borrow a phrase from my Dutch friends, we were out to “sniff some culture.” When we turned the rental car in they asked us what was the best thing on our trip. Newgrange and the ancient history was mind blowing. If you ever go, don't miss Newgrange. If I go back to Ireland in the future, I will courageously seek out the stories of folklore and those who can share how the land was shaped by the religious wars and what is currently being done to restore healing of the land and the old ways. I have a very dear friend who is writing a book, a mythic fairy tale about restoring our earth. I hope and trust that in some small, this trip was a real life contribution to restoring the earth of our ancestors.
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