butter!
December 4, 2016
Fiji Bound. Chef. Adventurer. Sailor?
January 25, 2017
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I was digging thru old files and came across this memory of travels in Ireland. I traveled with a client to their summer home near Reading England, they decided to take a trip so the staff ended up with unexpected free time. Have time will travel!
Well it seems I made a favorable impression on one of the security guards, Sean. He is a tall, huge guy from South Africa where he was part of the very secretive intelligence army. He looks like he could crush you will his bare hands. Luckily I’m on his good side, and my cooking impressed him. After hearing there was a week of free-time we quickly made plans for a road trip. Before you ask no there was no hanky panky, he’s dealing with a 3-year divorce after a 20-year marriage.
The family is on their way and so are Sean and I. Ireland or bust! We drove six hours to the coast of Wales to catch the 2:45 a.m. ferry to the eastern coast of Ireland. I felt a great sense of freedom getting outside of the gates of Tyle Mill and away from all the staff. Beautiful as it is my restlessness was getting the better of me and the thought of 5 days with nothing to do but read was beyond my imagination. Looking back on this statement, I laugh. Five days with nothing to do! It’s nothing in hindsight, after passing 18 days at sea, with nothing much more than reading to do. We slept in the car at the docks with a few tourists, and loads of truck drivers. There was more sleeping ahead on the 4-hour ferry ride.
Once landed we headed directly to a road-side guest house for a proper Irish breakfast. Coincidently, the proprietors were originally from South Africa, so Sean and the wife, Kathleen, conversed in Afrikaans, which is similar to Dutch. A full Irish breakfast consists of a fried egg, grilled tomato, sautéed mushrooms, sausage, black and white pudding, toast and tea. I was stuffed! I asked Kathleen, as I usually do when asking locals for advise; where would you go if you knew you where never going to return to this area ever again. Dramatic, I know, but it does get people thinking creatively! She was kind enough to give us many enticing suggestions of things to see and do along our route to Cork. We didn’t make it to all her suggestions but I think the route we took was “grand”. Grand, is an expression the Irish use for great, good, thank you, etc. whereas in England they say “brilliant”.
Heading south in the county of Wexford, the birthplace of JFK, we drove through the J.F. Kennedy Arboretum and walked up the summit of Slieve Coillte to survey the land. Amazing! It is a patchwork of green, very shade of green and a few new ones! There were ancient ruins in the distance, sheep and cattle everywhere, just miles and miles of rolling green. It was raining and very windy so we headed back to the car and out to Hook peninsula.
Along the road to Hook lighthouse, one of the oldest lighthouse in the world, we investigated a Knights of Templar church and grave yard, found a mansion I deemed haunted, which I later discovered is considered haunted, Luftus Hall, and enjoyed the breathtaking Irish coastline. It is much like Northern California coast with blowholes, rocky outcroppings and huge, crashing waves with ocean spray. Welsh monks built the very first lighthouse on the peninsula, in the 6th century however it was not a building, just a big bonfire! Through the years the lighthouse was built and then added to, to reach its current height. The saying “by Hook or by Crook” is based on this lighthouse and one in Crook, Waterford the next harbor west of Hook. Around the peninsula are 12-13th century ruins of forts, castles, churches and the like making it very picturesque. At one spot in the main road, we had to take a drawbridge of sorts over a waterway! I just bet before the current system they had a donkey pulling the bridge. Driving through a tangle back roads, the untouched natural beauty of Ireland came alive. Sadly and I think surprisingly, there are many huge new houses all in the Georgian style and painted brightly. We could not figure out why all these houses were there when there really is not much more than fields and cows. The answer would come later.
Heading out of county Wexford to Cork our true destination, as we neared the city we stopped near a lake that must be the true Swan Lake. I had never seen so many swans in one spot, there were about 50 adult swans and their cygnets. An Irish legend tells a tale of the Children of Lir, who were turned into swans by their jealous stepmother. She bargained with a Druid and with his magic wand cast a spell. Her plan had a little problem though, as she turned the children into swans for 900 years, and a passing dark cloud swallowed her up. The children now swans could sing and talk and became quite well known. At the 900-year mark a Christian bell chimed and the swans turned into humans and soon died by flying in formation into the heavens.
More about Cork and the experience of traveling with a chain smoking, junk food junkie, sugar/caffeine addict! A little more than I bargained for to say the least. Throw in the affects of a painful divorce and you’ve got some interesting conversation for a road trip to nowhere.
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