In Dublin's Fair City (Once We Finally Got there)

Saturday morning dawned, sunny-ish and cool. Evan and I decided to take a quick walk before we left the hostel to make our way to Dublin. It was the Best Walk Ever.

Three doors down from the hostel, we were sternly reprimanded by three great dogs. They were very clear that we had no business walking in front of their house and told us so from a safe distance while wagging their tails in circles like doofuses. (OhmygoshIlovethem!)

One of them was much braver than the others, and came right up to the edge of the stone wall. She was super wiggly and, while I'm sure she knew it was not in her job description, she allowed/begged us to scritch her. Her companions continued to bark a bit before following suit, allowing their own ears to be scritched. Silly dogs. 

Also, they stank to high heaven. That's how we knew they were legit working dogs.

"Okay, I'll allow a wee scritch...if you insist."

We walked a short distance to this lovely church. There was no information offered on-site, so I don't know a thing about it other than the fact that it is old and quite picturesque.

Evan is silly and perhaps a wee bit blasphemous.

I'm sure it was lovely.

 Some local sheep...

 this pretty landscape...

 this old building...

...and these goofballs.

After our walk it was time to leave. We traveled west-ish to the radio station, but they weren't quite ready for us. Our tour coordinators are excellent at implementing Plan B, so Connor drove us to a place where we could get out and frolic in the ocean breeze a bit. Russ made us all promise that we wouldn't track sand back onto the bus. We really tried to honor that promise.

 Sandcasts made by the locals

I will caption this one, "This is not going to play well at Corporate."

When we returned to the radio station, they were ready for us. The choir crammed themselves into what would be, under normal circumstances, a rather spacious studio. In short time, they got their work done and we were ready to begin the long drive to Dublin.

We were just about to pull out of the parking lot when I realized that I did not know the location of my phone. (You might recall that my reports from Israel ended abruptly when I left my phone behind.) I was a touch frantic. (TOO SOON!!!!) I ran back inside the station, but couldn't find it there, so I was fairly certain that it was on the bus. I told Russ not to delay our departure because of this, and we began our journey. 

I found my phone just moments later. It was safely waiting for me in a pocket of my backpack where it had no business being.

Always put things back where they belong - ESPECIALLY when traveling. (I know this. It's one of my rules. I really wish I would never break it.)

The drive to Dublin was about four hours. I know it was late in the tour because I took no photos.

It was after 5 PM when we arrived at our hotel, which was right next to the Dublin airport. Thelate hour meant that there was no time for touring, so I never did get to the Guinness Storehouse to have a pint at the source, and I didn't get to the Jameson distillery. We did go to the Temple Bar District, and that's not for nothin'.

Evan and I joined Maddie and Owen. We spent some time in a kitschy/not so kitschy souvenir shop. We found a nice sweater for Evan and a hat for John (which Benja would appropriate as soon as I got home). (John has lost so much weight in the past year and a half that his hat size has changed significantly!)

We took some time to duck into the Temple Bar for a pint and to listen to some live music for a bit. I may or may not have impressed the pants off of my boy when I knew all of the lyrics to Cockles and Mussels. (Thanks, Mr. Herzog. Elementary school music classes were not wasted on me!)

The four of us enjoyed some dinner at small (and QUIET) restaurant. We did a shared small plates thing with some out-of-this-world breaded garlic mushrooms, smoked salmon, salad, spicy chicken wings, and garlic bread. It seems a little haphazard as I recount it; at the time, it was perfect.

It was now 9:30 (my bedtime!) and Connor wasn't returning until 11:30. I said good-bye to Evan and his friends and UberIreland-ed my way back to the hotel to pack/re-pack and sleep. 

"Make good choices, Evan."

"I will, Mom."

Fun story: When I got to my room, the heat was CRANKED and the thermostat read 25C.  It was the opposite of my hotel in the north. I had lost both pairs of reading glasses by this time, so I couldn't figure out how to turn on the cool air. Frustrated and sweaty, I finally opened the window. Not until 5:30 AM did it become cool enough to close it. 

Also, airplanes are loud. I know this because we were right next to the airport, and my window was open all night long.

There's really not much else to tell about the trip. The next morning, we grabbed our final Irish breakfast in the airport. Evan got both of us a pint (because Ireland), and the server brought a third to our table, "just in case." (I love this country.)

Our flight home was a "wee bit lumpy," especially ascending and descending. More than a few airsickness bags were put to use between Halifax, Nova Scotia and Newark. Thankfully, mine was not among them.

Our American coach driver agreed to drop me off in Harrisburg, saving someone in my family six hours of driving. John was waiting for me at the Cracker Barrel in Harrisburg. I kissed my boy good-bye, and I kissed my husband hello, and, just like that, my Ireland Adventure was over.

When I walked into the house, Hilde was waiting on the porch, demanding to know where I had been. Norbert, somewhat slower on the uptake, wandered casually toward the back door to see what was up. It was dark, and when I reached down to scritch him, I felt the exact moment he realized, "HEY!!!! IT'S YOUUUUUUUU!!!!! OHMYGOSH!!! IT'S YOUUUUUU!!!! YOU"RE HOME!!!!"

And, that, too, was completely lovely.

Dungannon of Legend and Song...And The Hills of Donegal

I believe we are finally at Thursday.

The coach picked us up and we drove just a very short distance to The Argory.
Think "Downton Abbey Lite."

It was a grand home, lived in for realsies until fairly recently, and the furnishing belonged to real people.  Don't ask me any details about them, because I'm afraid I have reached brain capacity.







Our group was divided in two, and I was in the fortunate group that got to have a lovely tea prior to the house tour.

As I said, I have very few details about the people who lived in this house, but I can tell you that this lived above their door:

Welcoming, no?

And they had this pipe organ that could be played by a person 

or with oversized music box cylinders: 

One of the ancestors was Captain Sheldon (?) (I swear that's what the docent told us, but wikipedia says otherwise), and he is remembered for surviving the wreck of his ship, the HMS Birkenhead. The shipwreck itself is known for being the first recorded occurrence of someone yelling, "Women and children first!" Fun bit from that story: With no room for him in the lifeboats, the captain swam for six hours before reaching land. When he reached the shore, his horse (who had been tossed off with the other horses to lighten the load as the Birkenhead began taking on water) was WAITING FOR HIM. If someone tossed me overboard, I don't know that I would be so loyal.

A painting of the wreck of the HMS Birkenhead

 The Dining Room

Hallway to the Servants' Quarters

From the Argory, we moved on to a village called Moy, where the kids were scheduled to sing at another care home for the infirm and elderly. It was a lovely day, so I took the opportunity for a walkabout. We had passed a couple of pretty churches on the way in and they were calling to me. Just beyond the first church was a pub. It called to me, too.

I was especially proud of myself for not going in the side entrance after seeing the whiteboard sign reading "Funeral Luncheon." I was curious, but thought better of crashing. I did choose to sit outside and enjoy my Guinness in the sunshine.

And I did get these photos of the churches:

 Church of Ireland

Methodist 

Following the concert, we drove to the town of Dungannon. It was well after 3:00 by this time and we were all hungry. It was past the time of the pubs serving food, but we did manage to find a chip shop. Harry enjoyed one of the signature foods of Northern Ireland: the bap. It's a sandwich made on a big roll, usually eaten at breakfast. It's stuffed with sausages and egg and ham, and people seemed to quite enjoy them. Harry sure did.

It was nearing 5:00, and the boys hadn't had a pint yet. With only moments to spare, we ducked into a pub and rectified that before Connor arrived with the bus to return us to Clonoe Chapel for the farewell concert.

It was a great concert, and many of the host families were in attendance. Father Fee, never missing a chance to make a speech, lengthened our time there for at least and additional half hour. He presented each choir member with a medal of Mother Angeline, a daughter of the parish who traveled to America and worked with the poor and elderly. While it seemed to take FOR-EV-ER., Father was really very sweet in introducing each and every choir member by name, and individually thanking them. He may have had an ulterior motive, as he received a hug from nearly every young lady and several of the gents. He is a man of great hospitality, and he made sure that the mums received thanks and medals as well. Very sweet.

Following the concert, there was a farewell meal for the choir, but it was nearing 10 o'clock by this time, and I was exhausted. Angela's sisters and mum graciously ran Ada and me to our hotel, where we were able to pack and retire at a fairly reasonable hour...unlike the choir kids, some of whom didn't make it to bed until 3 AM. Ugh.

Then it was Friday.
Friday was a day of driving.

I treated myself to a proper Irish breakfast (minus the beans and sausages and bacon and blood pudding, so it was probably less than proper), and it was delicious.

We didn't have a particularly early start, which was nice, and the scenery was lovely. Photos taken through the coach windows are not ideal, but that's mostly what we got.

The poignant moment of the morning occurred when Connor exited the main road to drive into the small village of Ardstraw. It was not on our itinerary, but I soon learned that he was stopping so that Emily could get a few photos of a Presbyterian church, the church of her ancestors. So sweet. I wept like a baby. I just wish she could have taken a bit more time to visit the churchyard, where those ancestors now rest, but we had quite a ways to travel to get to Donegal.

We stopped briefly in Letterkenny for Euros, lunch, and dinner provisions. It was a quick stop, but Evan and I managed to find a grocery to pick up a few things. We were so short on time that we kind of needed to grab the first things we found. No time for browsing and label reading! I spent the next many hours looking forward to my dinner of baguette, hummus, and a tray of button mushrooms.

Connor took us on the windiest, hilliest road he could find, or so it seemed. Lots of Dramamine was distributed. Lots and lots. We drove through the Glenveagh National Park. I've never seen anything like it before. The park is made up of mountains and moors and meadows and woodland. There was lots of heath and rushing streams and evidence of peat harvesting... or mining...or cutting. (I don't know what the real term is, but Angela told me that many of the people still heat their homes by burning peat.) If you get a chance, you can read about the park here.

 Mount Errigal

We arrived at Errigal Hostel, which sits at the base of Mount Errigal, Ireland's 76th highest mountain (more information here). It looks like a volcano, and I read that it shines pink or orange in the setting sun. We did not have the opportunity to see that because Russ and Angela had great surprises in store.

We took a short drive to Ionad Naomh Padraig (that's St. Patrick Community Center to you and me), where we were served a lovely tea before the kids were invited to join the local choir director across the hall. As it turned out, they were about to learn three pieces of Irish music which they would perform WITH a local choir as part of that evening's concert.

Here's something I didn't know before this day: Ulster Gaelic is the predominant language spoken here (even though everyone is also fluent in English). The whole area is known to be a bastion of traditional Gaelic culture and the Irish language.

After 20 minutes or so, Ada and I noticed that the choir director was racing around, rather frazzled. It seems she was in a tizzy because the kids learned their music so quickly, and she was out of material. And when the local choir members arrived, one of them, hearing the JC choir in rehearsal, was overheard saying, "Oh dear! They're quite a bit better than we are!"

The concert was lovely. The choir easily outnumbered the audience, but the audience was most appreciative of the music. Everyone enjoyed the pieces by the combined choirs, and, when the whole thing was over, the audience stood and sang Amhran Na Bhfiann (the national anthem of the Republic of Ireland, to you and me).

[I tried to include some video, but I was unsucessful. Sad face...]

By this time, it was nearing 9 PM, but the evening wasn't even close to over. Russ announced to the choir that we were going to take a quick drive over to Leo's Tavern, the home tavern of Enya and Clannad, where they would be singing as sort of an audition. I guess Enya is looking for a backup choir (???) and this choir sings the Irish Gaelic very well (or so we've been told).

Such fun. The Pub was already pretty full when the coach pulled up, and the local radio station was all set up. Forty-seven college students in tuxedos and long gowns filed in with their director and two mums, and I'm pretty certain that we were exceeding all fire codes. (I'm also sure that members of the local fire brigade were in there with us.) The choir was warmly welcomed by someone who I believe was Moya Brennan (not completely sure about that because I was too busy ordering my pint), and then the singing began. I have no good photos because I was way in the back (by the bar), the lighting was weird, and there were so many iPads and phones in my line of sight. The choir sounded great, and the locals loved them for singing in Gaelic.

As we left, the fellow from the radio station invited the choir to stop by the next morning to lay down a few tracks. Of course we obliged, and made plans to do so.

Choir tour being what it is, the evening was STILL not over. Connor drove us back to the hostel where the kids could change out of their concert attire before going to another pub for an Irish music session. It sounded like loads of fun, and I later heard that it was, but I am not 21 any more, and I was ready for bed. Ada was feeling very much the same, so we both opted out, and chose to have a quiet supper in the hostel. The bread hummus, and mushrooms made a lovely meal, and I got several hours of very good sleep that night.

The Wind That Shakes The Barley...And Musses Your Hair

What an incredible day!

We drove north in the stunning morning sunlight.

Did you see that? SUNLIGHT!

After several cold and dreary days, it was so very welcome. The blue sky was brilliant, and the greens even greener than before. And the sheep were even sheepier. Oh, those lovely sheep...
What an incredible day!

And then, we reached the coast and things became magical.

Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge was our first stop. We piled out of the coach and everyone began snapping photographs because it was just so very scenic, and because, way off in the distance, we could see Scotland! The walk to the bridge from the parking lot took about 20 minutes, and afforded lots of photo opportunities. Of course, the very best photos were taken right around the bridge. Everyone's hair was flying all around (and straight up in the air!) - even mine! That's real wind.

Little did we know... when we arrived at Giant's Causeway, a whole slew of us took the path to the top of the cliffs, and that's where the real wind was. I've been on a few significantly tall American mountains (Mt. Washington and Pike's Peak come to mind), but never have I ever experienced wind as strong as the wind at Giant's Causeway. It was frighteningly strong - and the kids loved it. It was really fun to play with the wind, leaning into it, jumping and allowing the wind to push you backwards through the air, or running with the wind at your back. But, for this mom, it was also terrifying to see the kids - especially one of them - participating in wind antics so very close to the edge of the cliff. I couldn't help it. When I saw Evan lose his footing in the mud just a short of the cliff's edge, I told him he needed to stop. And then, I walked away, not wanting my final memory to be of him going over the cliff.

He didn't go over the cliff, of course, and neither did anyone else.

And I had a lovely walk down to the see to view the incredible rocks of the Giant's Causeway.

I had several lovely conversations with several lovely people who were not jumping about dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. We climbed about on the rocks and gathered precious little shells from the tide pools and took lots and lots of pictures.

From Giant's Causeway, we moved on to Dunluce Castle. I know I'm getting tired because I read exactly ZERO of the information that was presented to us. Here's what I know:

Long ago, some people built a castle.

It was here.

This is what is left.

Some of the stones are from Giant's Causeway.

Nobody lives here anymore.

My brain is full.

I may or may not have gotten on the bus a full 20 minutes before we needed to. (I'm getting tired.)

It was finally time for whiskey. Many of us took a tour of the Bushmill's distillery. It was interesting, well presented, and tasty at the end. I took a photo for Harry's mum. (No photos were permitted on the tour.)

The boys and Tim, our guide. He reminded us of Patrick of Sponge Bob fame.

From there, we went to the next concert stop in Portstewart. The kids were to sing at St. Mary Star of the Sea. You know what's great about St. Mary Star of the Sea? 

Yes, the view of the sea, but also... there's a pub right across the street.

The concert was lovely, of course, and the congregation hosted a dinner afterwards. The mayor was helping to serve. Her name is Maura, and she's absolutely fabulous. 

We were all exhausted and we still had to drive over an hour to our sleeping places.