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.