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| Dublin lit up for Christmas |
We arrived in Ireland late on the 29th of
November, and after arriving in the city of Dublin, quite exhausted of our
travels, we hoped to find such a venue to relax and discuss possible
plans. But no such place existed,
for it was almost 2 in the morning on the following day before we had wandered
the streets, looking for such a place.
I cannot say Dublin struck me as a lovely city right away, for the only
catching sites I admired were the Christmas lights and the lonely tree that
stood aside the bridge crossing the River Liffey. Aside from the decoration, the city felt cramped, and
garbage littered every corner. There
were scavenging birds picking through the piles of trash, and the overall
atmosphere felt dry, daunting, and uninviting. But, as I knew I had arrived at such an awkward time, I knew
I musn’t judge the city at first glance beneath such cover of dark. Tomorrow, in the light of day, I’d have
a fresh set of eyes, and a new opinion of the city could be formed with a much
more amiable foundation.
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| View from across River Liffey |
Though I’d love to say my opinion had changed over the
course of the three days we wandered the city, it simply hadn’t occurred as I’d
formerly hoped. Dublin simply
wasn’t attractive to me in the simplest terms, and I didn’t prefer the city
atmosphere. Even with no such
expectations, it most likely wouldn’t have conquered the lowest of them if they
so existed. But, I really musn’t
be so negative, because apart from the city atmosphere, I grew a liking to
other aspects of Dublin (let this in no way be a judgment of Ireland itself),
and found aspects of it to be quite enjoyable and honest to the Irish tradition
and way of life.
But before I skip to my most favorite part of my stay in
Dublin, I must first relate the fact that when Ireland first came to mind
before my trip to the country, the only thoughts that came to fruition within
me where the most simple and stereotypical things that I had been introduced to
in elementary school. From
Leprechauns, rainbows, ever-elusive pots of gold hidden at their base, to
scores of smiling and cheerful red heads skipping and dancing through fields of
clovers, I probably hadn’t the best preliminary perception of the country. On more realistic terms, I did admire the
country through the accomplishments of Saint Patrick, the patron saint of the
country who is believed to have brought Christianity to the people of
Ireland.
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| Dublin's famous Temple Bar |
Luckily though, my friends made it clear to me that the only
way I was going to ever catch site of a Leprechaun, stashes of gold, or
rainbows, I was going to have to take down one too many bouts of alcohols that
I was neither accustomed to or agreed with. So, to that fact made clear to me, I settled on conversing
with the cheerful gingers that I found to be such wonderful company at the
several pubs we frequented over the course of our time in Dublin. This wasn’t difficult though, as we
found the pub atmosphere to be quite enjoyable, and we ended up spending every
night out, sipping on Dublin’s famous Guinness beer and chatting with the
locals.
Next to Dublin’s famous Temple Bar, my favorite had to have
been the Old Storehouse, which was an inviting pub full of pep and cheer with
bands that came and played for the anticipating crowds of locals and travelers
alike. The musicians were such a
highlight for me, as they so simply brought to life the culture and tradition
of Ireland that you couldn’t help but fall in love with the simple idea of it
all. I found such a pervasive joy
in watching the musicians, each one playing their instrument with such zeal and
zest that I couldn’t help but to sing along, tap my feet, and join in with the
celebration.
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| Some fond memories made at The Old Storehouse |
But, it was merely just another Friday evening when I was
caught in the joy of this celebration, and in spite of the jolly and festive
music, there must not be any such presumption of holiday… it was merely a
celebration of the simplest things, of Ireland, of life, friends, family,
music… of their troubled yet triumphant past that I found to be so strikingly
unique and alive as opposed to the other countries I have visited. Never had I been met with people so
happy, so cheerful, so smiley and open to conversation as I had in Ireland, and
in spite of the city outside, you could walk into a pub, strike up a
conversation with a local, and right away feel like you live right down the
block. It was lovely meeting so
many locals, and it really gave me a first hand look into the simple and joyful
life each one of them seemed to lead.
It seemed that most groups came in large and strong, and most of them
actually had all known eachother since they were in elementary school. It was lovely knowing that such a
proximity and affection still existed in neighborhoods such as these, and I
admired the everlasting and encouraging friendships that seemed to bond each
one of them together.
Of the five bars we visited, the overall highlight, as I
mentioned definitely had to have been the music. I loved watching one young man in particular dance away with
his tin whistle, his cheeks blushing bright red, and beads of sweat escaping
from behind his thick and dark whiskered smile. It remains a mystery to me just
how he managed to play that small whistle with such luster and passion that the
music literally just thickened the air with every note. The fiddle was no less exhilarating, as
it was played with such affection that it could have brought joy to even the
faintest of hearts. As they played
Irish classics from Molly Malone to Whiskey
in the Jar, I spent most of my nights just
taking in the pub atmosphere alongside some of the friendliest Irish folk
around. From their adorable Irish accents to their sentences ever so sweetened
with “Loves” and charming smiles,
the moments just seemed to all melt away.
During one of our days in Dublin, we decided to take part in
the free walking tour that was encouraged by our hostel, Saint Isaacs. Having had such a positive and
educational experience with it in Paris, we saw to it as a perfect opportunity
to expand our obviously quite limited acquisition and knowledge of the country. So, On December 2, we followed a long a group of 40 strong
around the streets of Dublin. The
group was not at all favorable in size, and thus it led oftentimes to missing
out on parts of it, but luckily, I gathered enough information to get a general
gist of the places we visited, enough so to share with you and a little bit of
the history to each of our wanderings.
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| The Dublin Castle, with the Record Tower |
Our first stop was the Dublin Castle, which cast a number of
roles throughout the course of history, of the most highlighted being it the
seat of British rule until 1922. The site was first inhabited by Vikings and
was the main military base and trading center in Ireland. It wasn’t though
until 1230 under the instruction of a British King that the site became the
foundation of a castle complete with walls and ditches for defense of the city
from further invasion. The last
surviving tower of its original construction after a fire in 1673, The Record
Tower, strikes a fair amount of history as it held the mischievous sons of two
prominent families of the time, the O’Neill’s and the O’Donnell’s. In the 1500s the two families had been
at war with eachother for in-extractible reasons. This had left the country divided and without a
central authority for 200 years following Ireland’s unfinished Norman
Conquest. Though an issue arose
when two sons of the families, Red Hugh O’Donnell and Henry O’Neill, became
friends and united the families.
This worried Elisabeth I, as the English were currently trying extend
their authority over the land. So
she concocted a plan to capture O’Donnell and O’Neill and so a ship was sent to
capture them. They were bribed
with alcohol and a time later, they found themselves locked in The Record Tower
until their unlikely escape through a toilet chute in 1592.
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| The Courtyard of the Dublin Castle |
Also a part of the Dublin Castle is the Chapel Royal, built
in 1814, which hosts the most magnificent interior gothic infrastructures in
Ireland. The courtyard of the castle was definitely gorgeous in and of itself
too, which today serves as a landing pad for helicopters. From there we visited the grounds of
Jonathan Swift’s original home in Dublin, which is no longer standing. Instead hung a plaque in his honor,
naming his accomplishment as Dean of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin. It was magnificent to learn of his
roots here in Ireland, as he is one of the most remembered satirist and
essayists of his time, completing such works such as Gulliver’s Travels, and A Modest Proposal. The essay, A Modest Proposal definitely wrung through my memory from my high
school English studies. The piece
was written in 1729, and was a satire venting his disgust at the country’s
lamentable condition. In his
writing, he offers a solution to Ireland’s poverty, suggesting that that
a young healthy child, well nursed, is at a year old, a most delicious,
nourishing, and wholesome food…”
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| Christ Church in Dublin |
From the place of Swift’s birth we made our way to Christ
Church, the oldest Cathedral in Dublin, built in 1014 by the Vikings. From there we visited the Projects Art
Center, which launched the 1980s band, U2, into becoming one of the most famous
internationally known bands. The
street led us right to ½ Penny Bridge, which earned its name because it once costed
travelers ½ a penny to cross. The
bridge was actually built by the same company that constructed the Titanic, so
I wasn’t all too sure on how much its strength should have been trusted. O’Connell Street was our next
destination, the main Street in Dublin, which was reconstructed after Ireland’s
Independence in 1922. In the
center stands the O’Connell monument, dedicated to the nationalist leader,
Daniel O’Connell.
Though meandering and exploring the city streets lent us
quite the adventure, we knew there had to be more to Ireland than the city. After all, the rolling green hills and
fields of clovers had to come from somewhere. So my friends and I promptly signed up for a tour traversing
the Connemara National Park, well known for its mountain range, The Twelve
Bens, and its unique terrain, made up of bog, grass, and woodlands. We undertook this adventure on our last
day in Ireland, and caught the bus early in the morning for our tour that would
last us for the entire day.
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| In the lovely hillsides of the Connemara |
Unfortunately, the weather that Sunday hadn’t cleared up for
us fellow travelers, and decidedly fit right into the usual weather of
Ireland’s climate which consisted of some rain, some clouds, rain… and some
more rain. So, we shouldn’t have
been in for a surprise, but I suppose to our luck… and not so much our luck, the
tour did consist of sightseeing mostly from the cover of our bus coach. So while we were somewhat warm inside
the bus, and safe from the rain, unfortunately we were not able to see out the
window for the good part of our tour.
But luckily, it didn’t stop us from enjoying the several stops we made
along the way, which consisted of a Friary, a Castle, and Galway City
itself.
Our first stop, the Ross Errily Friary, was a medieval
Franciscan Friary left in ruins. A
Friary is different from an Abbey in that a Friary can also be open to the
public for worship as apposed to an Abbey which is place reserved solely the
worship and living purposes of monks or nuns. Though obviously not kept in
superb condition, provided its age, it still is the best preserved of its
kind. The friary was complete with
a labyrinth of old mossy cobbled walls, fit with small peep holes, differently
shaped doors and passageways, and an assortment of rooms in all different
sizes. In addition, it consisted
of burial grounds dating back to medieval times, hidden staircases, an oven,
and a water tank that was once used to hold live fish. We had about a half an hour to explore
the ruins, which we spent meandering along long walkways lined with perfectly
symmetrical medieval windows, all pocketed with moss and shabby green growth
crawling out from every corner.
The backdrop of the ruins though was most spectacular, with the rolling
green hills escaping into the fogged down bog lands of the landscape. The air was thick with moisture, and I
could almost feel the mystery of the place pierce through my veins just looking
out onto the horizon, trying to extrapolate the years that stood between me and
the old cobblestone ruins sleeping behind me.
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| Between county borders in Cong between Galway & Mayo |
After loading up onto the bus once again, our next stop was
the Village of Cong. Cong was a
quaint and quiet little town; nestled up in the tireless hills of Ireland,
sitting on an island formed by an assortment of small streams. It is most well known for being home to
the famous Ashford Castle, one of Ireland’s finest hotels. Our bus driver told us that if you have
to ask the price, you can’t afford it.
But I looked it up, and it appears that the cheapest room for one adult
is 88 Euro, unless I am mistaken.
I am including the link to their site, just to see the extensive beauty
of it, http://www.ashford.ie/. Unfortunately, it is not at all
accessible to the public, and it is nearly invisible from outside of the
walls. But now that I know the
price, a visit to this magnificent castle doesn’t seem too out of the realm of
possibility any longer. I think by
the time I finish this blog post, I will have completely fallen in love with
this country and need to return.
I’m realizing just how much of Ireland I didn’t see, and the magic that
lies hidden outside the contours of city walls.
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| A picturesque view of Kylemore Abbey, Connemara |
After passing by the boundaries of Ashford Castle and
exploring the city of Cong for awhile, we got back on board to make it to our
final destination: Kylemore Abbey and Gardens. Kylemore Abbey, or originally, Kylemore Castle, was
originally built for young Margaret Vaughan, as a gift from her husband,
Mitchell Henry. They had both fallen
in love with the area during their honeymoon in 1850, that it became Margaret’s
dream to return to the Connemara and live there. Though the family enjoyed a quaint and quiet lifestyle at
the castle, after Margaret and her husband traveled to Egypt in 1874, Margaret
fell ill with dysentery and died 16 days after at the age of 45. The beautiful Neo-Gothic church
that sits just a 5-minute walk down the road from the castle was built by
Mitchell as a memorial chapel for his wife.
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| The Gothic Church, Connemara |
After some financial difficulty, the castle and its property
changed hands twice more, with its final purchase by the Benedictine Community
in 1920, with the help of public loans.
The Irish Benedictine Nuns were refugees from Ypres, Flanders and had
fled from their monastery in 1914 during the World War 1 when the German army
bombarded their city. Since their
stay, the nuns have made important contributions to this historical emblem,
from opening an international boarding school, to renovating the Victorian
Walled Garden and Gothic Church.
The boarding school has attracted the daughters of Irish nobility and
some of the most famous students include American actress Angelica Huston and
Indian Princesses, daughters of Maharaja Ranjit. Because of changing times and increasing costs of running
the school and its maintenance, the school was closed, and the last exams at
Kylemore Abbey were given in June of 2010.
The castle and its surroundings were so picturesque, and
just walking around, you would have thought to have been gracing the pages of a
childhood fairytale. The winding
paths were carved through perfectly green hillsides, dotted with trees touched
by the coming of fall. The castle
stood right at the base of a beautiful lake, with ancient trees at its basin,
their silhouettes shadowing the murky blue waters. It was difficult to not fall in love with the beautiful
atmosphere, so magical, and so seemingly unreal, you literally had to pause for
a moment to take it all in. I
could have wandered the castle and its surrounding trails for hours, but
unfortunately, the two hours cut us short, and we had to return to Dublin.
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| A bend in the road... where will my travels take me next? |
Though my adventures in Ireland ended much sooner than I
would have liked, as do most of my trips throughout Europe, I enjoyed every
moment immensely, and appreciated every small joy that came upon me. Wholly
unplanned, this trip was definitely met with adventure, and I couldn’t by the
end of the four short days help but to fall in love with this country cradled
with such a strong sense of magic and mystery. From the bog lands of the Connemara to the pubs that came
alive with melodic tunes of tin whistles and fiddles, Ireland earned a name for
itself far greater than I had ever expected.
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