Botanical Meanderings And Seated Climbs

Today dawned very bright with the promise of even more sunshine to come so it was decided that a visit to the nearby botanical gardens was in order. Miche and Ms V were taking a diversion via the local charity shop to check out some more cheap reading material so they left before the male members of the group. Mickey and Mr P decided to head to the gardens via the walk of Lieth and were rewarded for this decision by getting up close and personal with a crane enjoying the sunshine.

Once inside the gardens Mickey and Mr P walked past the wildflower garden full of poppies and cornflowers amongst others. With the group re-united it was time to do some serious floral appreciation. Heading towards the Conservatory we got to marvel at part of Britian’s oldest fossil, (no not ERII but an old tree Pitus Withami found close by in a quarry). Heading into the building we got to some Japanese Ikebana works recently completed by a group of kimono clad Japanese ladies.

Britain's Oldest Fossil	A Heron In The Leith
Ikebana	How Many Eyes Do I See

Inside the first, (and succeeding), conservatory buildings we found ourselves in a photographers paradise. Everywhere we looked, from the exorbitant lillypads to water repellent leaves, to the multi-eyed lotus flower head to the smallest of blooms there was something new to spy and discover. The only drawback was the very high humidity in most of the buildings so it was with great relief that we found the Australian-New Zealand exhibit was more open air with no need for artificial temperature control. Having initially planned on a one hour visit we were surprised to find in the end that we spent more than 3 hours discovering and photographing as many of the plants as the fast fading batteries of our cameras would allow, (to check out the full set you will need to look on Mr P’s Flickr Photostream).

Lilly Pads	Flowers ???
More Blooms	Another Stunner

As it was no well past 2pm it was time to head back to the flat for a bite of lunch before Mickey readied himself for work at the Beehive. Having said goodbye to Mickey the decision was made to scale the heights of Arthur’s Seat at 210m the highest of Edinburgh’s hills. Given the time of day, around 5pm, we were able to easily find a car park at the base of the climb right next to the Hollyrood Parade Ground which was adorned with rows of tents readying for the up coming Highland Games.

The first part of the climb took us along the rocky side of the seat facing the city and along quite a wide path. The many great views back over by now familiar landmarks provided numerous excuses to rest and regain our breath. A flattening out of the track provided even more relief until we realised that we had only conquered one of the spurs and that the next climb to the peak was much steeper over what looked like a goat path enclosed by a very rustic fence. Mercifully once past this hurdle the track widened out again to another gentle rise before a scramble over rocks to the summit.

Heading Up The Seat	Looking Back Down
Some Flat At Last	Hey But You Didn't Tell Us About This

Finally atop the seat we found the views exhilarating indeed. We took in the all weather ski slopes on the Pentlands that we had missed viewing previously. We could see all the way across the Firth of Forth and beyond. We also watched with amazement as a group of cyclists firstly appeared at the summit and then proceeded to mount up and simply ride down the other side. Another thing that caught our eye was a raven or crow that first sat on the cliff edge then gently glided off into the air beyond.

Arthur Seat Panorama

Gee It's A Long Way Down	On Top Of The World
Raven Getting Down Easily	Another Way To Get Down

Having taken in as much of the panorama as we could it was time to make our way back down, this time via a more direct but still quite steep path at the rear of the hill. There are in fact a multitude of paths that criss-cross the seat. On our way down we stopped off to check out the ruins of St Anthony’s Chapel. The origins of the chapel are a little obscure however it was built no later than the 15th century. The chapel is situated on one of the many ledges that dot the hillside but is now little more than one wall with other rocks that once formed the structure now scattered about.

St Anthony's Chapel

Heading down from the chapel our attention was caught by voices and the sounds of tumbling rocks. Looking around the corner Mr P saw a couple of males attempting to scramble back up the slope towards the chapel. One was obviously inebriated and was being pushed from behind by his companion. Whilst scrambling up they were dislodging small to medium sized rocks that rolled back down the slope passed and in some cases into their female companion who was perched on the edge of a 2m drop leading to a quite steep rock and grass 40-50metre slope. Scrambling over to the males Mr P helped pull and push the intoxicated male up to the flat again before heading off down to see to the female.

Halfway down amidst another shower of stones we were joined again by Mr Drunk proferring all manner of advice punctuated by some pretty fruity language. Realising it would be easier to go down than up with the female we were thankfully joined by another male who had made his way up the slope from the bottom and had succeeded in making sure the also quite inebriated female didn’t slide over the edge.

We finally prevailed on the other two males and started down over the ledge at which our female friend yelped in pain suggesting she had broken her shoulder. All other evidence suggested otherwise and that instead she might have torn some ligaments or something of the sort. As a result lowering her down became just that little more tricky but we soon had her over the edge and down onto the slope below all the while fending off the attempted assistance of her more drunk friend.

The rest of the descent went quite well save for the time when Mr P was unable to support her and the female flopped onto the grass ever so slowly lowering her head onto the rocks nearby. Alcohol though is a great anaesthetic and despite an audible clunk our friend didn’t mutter a sound.

Finally at the bottom our female friend wanted to kiss our hands to death before we finally extricated ourselves and mad our way back to the car passing on the way St Margaret’s Well which dates from the 15th century.

St Margaret's Well

As it was now 9pm and given our climb and other adventures we were quite hungry so a Thai takeaway was in order before more sweet dreams on the pull-out bed.

Busking With Bruce

Today was a day of consolidation, washing was done, supplies were bought at our local ScotMid before we finally ventured into town late in the afternoon. During the latter part of the Ireland leg Mr P had been noticing that his previously very efficient Skeeches shoes had somehow managed to begin to allow water to enter them. Now these shoes were on their third tour of duty to the UK as well as having survived four or so years in Oz so they didn’t owe anything. Nonetheless it was a little upsetting to find a quite significant cut in the toe no doubt caused by one of those sharp Irish stones that had caused our tyre such grief.

Needing to staunch the water flow purchasing a replacement pair of shoes was the first order of the day. On the off chance that a repair might be able to be done, the offending shoe was bought with us. On the way into townwe were highly amused to see a pair of workers erecting a new bus shelter, straight off of the back of a trailer.

Erecting a Bus Stop Edinburgh Style

Upon reaching the nominated shoe repair shop all thoughts of an easy solution were thrown out the window by the sign in the repair shop window advising that he was not open that day until the 25th.

Realising then that new was the only way to go we visited a number of shoe stores the staff of which were all extremely helpful and attentive without being overbearing. The service was so good that when we finally settled on a pair we felt quite guilty that we hadn’t also purchased from the others. In the end the final clincher was a 50% off offer on a second purchase which meant that Ms V could also buy a pair of waterproof goretex shoes as well.

Back on the Golden Mile heading for another of the free Edinburgh museums, the museum of childhood, our attention was attracted by a familiar accent. Now Ms V normally shies away from street theatre and buskers but in “Bruce” the Aussie busker’s case we found ourselves drawn to join the very large crowd being entertained. Now maybe it was the accent and so familiar humour, maybe it was the sunshine or maybe it was the so obliging “marks” that Bruce picked from the crowd but we stayed for some 20 or more minutes until the end of the show being thoroughly entertained by his wit and repartee.

Let's All Do What Bruce Does

Given this diversion our visit to the museum was somewhat curtailed however we did see amongst the exhibits some vaguely familiar playthings from our childhood. Back on the street we caught up with first Miche and then Mickey who had finished work for the day for some coffee and more late night shopping on the way back to the flat and a “home cooked meal”.

M&M Dinking

Running Low On Fuel

Up relatively later than normal we enjoyed our breakfast in a most eccentric but very attractive dining room. Adorned with all manner of ephemera including old books such as Roy Of The Rovers Annuals and others of such ilk. Breakfast done our hostess suggested that there was a tyre repair man just around the corner that we might like to try on the off chance he could help us. With very low expectations, (the village consisted of one store plus a few scattered houses and B&B’s), we drove round the corner to a small workshop on the side of the road.

There were certainly no fancy signs or advertisements here, just excellent customer service and some very funny conversation. Within a trice our tyre dealer had the tyre off and checked out revealing just why our friends of the previous evening were unable to blast the stone out. Not only that but our new friend had a replacement tyre in stock which was just as efficiently fitted and the wheel replaced on the car, all for 60 euro. Whilst all this was going on some other members of the party were entertained by the workshop dog that enjoyed chasing and returning, (but not giving up), a very flat soccer ball.

That Stone	Gimme The Ball
The Local Tyre Shop	Peace At Last

With parting pleasantries out of the way it was on to Galway however as we needed to be in Dublin on the other side of the country by 6pm we knew we had little time to spare for this one of the more famous bays in Ireland. Our timetable was further put out by the very slow moving traffic on the ring road across town. Finally stopping at a local Aldi to get some supplies for lunch we were told that our Aussie credit cards would not be accepted and that we needed cash. Fortunately Mickey had followed us in and could stake us the lunch. Rejoining the traffic we finally made it to the Beach our chosen spot for lunch. Here a small grey bird seemed to want to join us which made a change from the screeching seagulls that wanted to join us for other meals. Overall the grey day and fairly brisk breeze, plus our traffic experience and the need to keep moving didn’t really “sell” Galway as we might have expected and we were soon back in the car heading for Dublin.

How Much Ivy Can A Pole Bear

Our Galway Lunch Companion

Though we passed through numerous small villages heading across country most were service towns or the like. Ms V did require a stop to finally capture a couple of pics of one of the many ivy covered power poles that had featured throughout our journey so far. To further break our journey we decided to stop off in Athlone.

This quite pretty city on the Shannon River, (the one that we had crossed on the ferry at Tarbert), features a large Castle on one bank of the river with the main town on the other. Taking refreshments at a riverside coffee shop Mr P finally ordered a hot drink to share with Ms V only to find that sharing wasn’t allowed and that both he and Ms V were served very large pots of chai tea. After a short walk along the river banks checking out the river craft, the oldest pub in Ireland and a very cute but one would think perilous roadside petrol pump it was back to the highway followed by motorway and onward to Dublin.

Athlone Castle	An Athlone Ferry
Ireland's Oldest Pub??	An Athlone Footpath Petrol Pump

Now one of the conditions of the car hire was that the car should be returned with an empty petrol tank. As a result of endeavouring to meet this request a delicate estimation game had to be employed. With some 30 miles to go to get to the airport our low fuel level indicator came on just as we began to hit the ring road traffic. As the traffic slowed even more to something more stop start a sense of foreboding began to permeate the car. Given our previous Dublin road experiences we also realised that we had to get the directions and off ramp right too. Luckily the navigators proved their worth and the airport turn finally hove into sight. There was one twist in the tail however when one of the navigators, (not the driver or one of the females), missed the vital last turn into the car hire yard. Despite the multitude of signs banning it a quick U-turn followed by an illegal run down a one way stretch was instituted to get us back to the Europcar base. It was with great relief that we handed over the keys to the car which received a cursory inspection before we were able to hop on the bus to the airport.

The rest of our journey back to Edinburgh was very uneventful, Ryanair playing a loud fanfare on landing in Edinburgh before time apart, and we were soon back on our little fold out divan at M&M’s.

Passing Sharp Rocks

Breakfast in Dingle was different, no bacon, beans or bangers here, instead we were presented with a Continental spread including a range of cold meats, cheeses and pastries alongside the usual fruit, cereal and yoghurt which actually made a pleasant change. Having checked that the car which had spent the night on the street was still fully intact we loaded up and headed out around the Dingle Peninsula.

Not far out of town the spectacular views began, continuing throughout the rest of the trip. Adjacent to one of the cliffside stops we checked out some pre-historic stone “beehive” huts. Set inside a stonewall compound the huts were round in shape with a domed roof made completely out of local hillside stone without any fixing compound such as cement at all. The whole structure looked extremely solid and though there had obviously been some restoration work done on them for them to have survived so intact on such a windy peninsula stands testament to their builders so long ago.

The huts themselves are big enough to easily stand in but with only a single doorway opening were a little dark inside. Around and in the walls of the compound were a number of small spaces that looked as though they would have been used to store food or other items.

Beehive Huts

Mr P Inspecting The Next B&B

The huts were situated on a small farming property where the owners were just drenching and marking some sheep that had recently been shorn. One of the flock had somehow jumped out of the pen and it and the farm sheepdog caused much amusement, (and no doubt some consternation for passing drivers), as the sheep alternately ran into the bracken then onto the road and back past the pen, trying to rejoin its mates. All the time another smaller dog high up in the top window of the adjacent house was letting all and sundry know that it didn’t appreciate what was happening either.

Shorn Sheep

Who Is That Dog In The Window

Continuing the theme of sheep doing weird things, just a little further up the road we came across a ram standing on the stone fence on the cliff side of the road using the wire atop the fence to scratch itself. Hopping down from the fence it then proceeded to join two other sheep on the small sloping ledge that led to the quite precipitous drop to the sea. Obviously these sheep at least don’t suffer vertigo.

Scratching Sheep

Dingle Peninsula

Sheep shots done and with cars coming up behind we drove slowly on the quite narrow and windy roads, (think the Great Ocean Road forty or fifty years ago), soaking in the scenery as there were few if any places to stop to take pics. Finally we rounded Blaskett Head and the stop used to ferry people over to the nearby islands. Checking out the views from the cliff edge we couldn’t help notice a quite reasonable sized hole nearby that reflected rather poorly on the stability of said cliffs. With a little more caution we explored a little more before enquiring about the ferry service. Unfortunately our schedule didn’t allow us to take the 80 minute return trip to the island which Mr P didn’t argue too vigorously against. We did however take the short but extremely steep path down to the beach where the rubber duckies used to take the passengers to the ferry are stored. Passing the booking huts we noted the ingenious local measures used to keep the structures in place during what must be some occasionally strong blows.

Blaskett Kelp	Blaskett Cliffs
Blaskett Beach	Is That A Hole In The Cliff????

The water on that day despite a reasonable sized swell was very clear and we could see the large kelp beds below that provided cover for the lobsters that might be caught in the pots laid around the bay. Along with the rubber duckies were numerous long black bottomed boats that had a small cut-out to enable the attachment of a motor. Ms V bravely edged her way down the slippery boat ramp to get a feel of the Atlantic Ocean.

The Blaskett Island Ferry	Blaskett Black Boats
Blaskett Black Boat Upturned	The Winds Get Pretty Strong Around Here??

Blaskett Panorama

Travelling on there were further spectacular cliff and panoramic views though the scudding showers that regularly blew in with a force sufficient to invert a number of umbrellas that fellow travellers sought to use to keep the rain off.

Pointy Heads Dingle

Another Dingle Panorama

Back in Dingle it was time to get some supplies for a picnic before making the steep and steady climb up and over the Connor Pass. This was to be the second time through the pass for Mr P and Ms V who remembered their last visit as being quite taxing because of the narrowness of the road. Heading up the mountains this time though their concerns were eased considerably as on the Dingle side at least the road had been widened to a more normal width. Newly added side stopping spaces even enabled us to refresh ourselves from one of many streams running down the mountain.

Supping From A Clear Mountain Water

At the top of the pass we pulled in to the carpark to have our picnic. The quite bracing wind made this a bit of a challenge though we were rewarded with some great views of the water on both sides of the peninsula, (on the last occasion Mr P and Ms V travelled the pass, the mountain was shrouded in cloud. Heading down we found that the road improvements hadn’t fully been implemented though fortunately we didn’t have to do any reverses, only the occasional stop to allow others to squeeze past as we all collectively breathed in.

Connor Pass Looking Back To Dingle

The Rocks Of Connor Pass

Down on the flat it was onwards to the Tarbert Ferry across the Shannon River. Semingly sensing our need to keep things moving, the ferry was waiting for us and we basically drove on without any wait before heading over the river. Making very steady time heading towards the Cliffs Of Moher we found our way stopped by some roadworks. Finally getting the green light we drove off only to hear a strange noise coming from the car rear. Getting out to check our worst fears were realised when we noted a very flat rear tyre.

Things got worse when we checked the boot for although there was a spare tyre it was in fact only an emergency one that could be used at restricted speed, (given our timetable not what we wanted to know). Having finally depacked our gear, worked out the machinations for changing the tyre, changed it and then repacked we drove the short distance into Quilty only to find the streets blocked with some sort of festival. Traffic including us was reduced to less than walking pace as cars simply stopped in the only lane available between the cars parked on the kerb so that people in the car could converse with customers spilling our of the shops and pubs.

Finally out of the High Street we noticed a service station and repair shop so we stopped to seek tyre assistance. Unfortunately he was closing but he did direct us to another tyre shop that would be open, (you guessed it, back through town). Dutifully we drove back through the crowds again that mercifully were beginning to thin a little to the tyre shop.

Here the young guy behind the counter assured us that he would get us going very quickly. Ten minutes later he finally appeared with his mate of similar vintage, (maybe 20), to check out the tyre and the quite large 3-4cm stone protruding from it. Their first solution was to try and pull the stone out with some tyre pliers. Of course this didn’t happen so next it was to try hitting the stone in order to drive it into the tyre, (now of course rubber is flexible and so simply absorbed each of the hammer blows without moving the stone at all). Their next and final idea, (thank goodness), was to attempt to hyper-inflate the tyre in order to pop the stone out. At least they decided to take the tyre outside and aim the stone away from any potential danger before attaching the tyre hose. Now laws of physics suggest that it is pretty nigh impossible to hold a tyre hose on a fully inflated tyre let alone add any more air let alone thinking about any possibility of connections along the by now fully extended hose giving way. So it was that despite their best efforts, the lads were unable to help us other than giving us the name of a tyre retailer in Galway.

Back facing another drive through ??? we decided that our stop that night would not be Galway but at one of the numerous wayside B&B’s that seemed to pop up very regularly along the road. With that decision made we were able to stop off at the Cliffs Of Moher to take in the cliffs, castle and very blustery winds though all of the information and tourist shops were long shut.

Cliffs Of Moher

Cliffs Of Moher Bay

Castle Of Moher

Back on the road and getting closer to 9:00pm, we were by now quite peckish and just at the right time a relatively rare for these parts family run restaurant hove into view. The menu was even more promising and given the hour most of the diners were finishing up. A table was soon prepared and the food that adorned it was obviously home cooked being not only absolutely scrumptious but more than plentiful. Now fully sated we moseyed a little further along before locating a very accommodating B&B and some well earned sleep.

Traditional Home Cooked Food: YUM

Ring-A-Ring Of Kerry

Having finished another hearty Irish Breakfast, (very similar to the English and Scottish), we packed and went to settle the account with our host to be told the credit card machine was down and could we pay in cash. After a quick whip around we found ourselves short so Mr P set off up the road to find a teller machine. Finding the closest advertised one had been removed from the shop recently and the next closest machine non-functional Mr P returned to which our host offered to drive us to a machine in the shopping centre nearby. After a hairy and apology filled ride we made it back in one piece with cash and time to spare before heading out of Killarney towards the Ring Of Kerry.

Once again the views were spectacular as we looked out over the bays and inlets that the quite benign Atlantic Ocean flowed in and around despite the once again threatening clouds that were our now constant companions. The regular showers served good purpose however by loading up the hills with water which flowed down the numerous rivulets on the side of the hills drawing white lines against the green and grey.

The Stormy Atlantic

Part way round the ring we came to the ferry which takes you to a nearby island, Valentia Island. Despite misgivings about his ability to cope with Atlantic Ocean swells and the like Mr P agreed to put it to the test on the ten minute ferry crossing as long as we could come back via a bridge. Fortunately the tide was low and the voyage quick enough not to require too many Qwells and we were soon exploring this neat island.

Valentia Island

Mr P Holding Things Together Mid-Atlantic

Valentia Panorama

Spotting a sign to the lighthouse on Point Cromwell we took the very windy steep and narrow track down to the point and the lighthouse. Unfortunately the lighthouse was closed on the day we visited however we still got to explore the nearby rocks, waves and rockpools appreciating a couple of spectacular folds in the slate as well as the waves crashing on them. The lighthouse itself dates from the time of Oliver Cromwell, (boy did he clock up the frequent flyer points in his travels), and is still in use today.

Cromwell Point Light	Crashing Waves At Point Cromwell
Cromwell Light Rockpool	Beautifully Folded Slate

Back on a more major road, (two cars could barely fit side by side this time), we travelled to the other end of the island, the most westerly point in Europe, where the TransAtlantic Telegraph Cable left land for the trip undersea to the Americas. It was fascinating to note that it took some nine years from 1857 to 1866 before they had permanent success in using the cable. Since that time additional cables were laid which greatly increased the speed with which Europe and America could communicate telephonically.

Telegraph Station Point Valentia Island

Before getting in the car Mr P’s eye was taken by an emerald green beetle and a couple of nearby orange bugs that just had to be macroed.

Green Beetle

Orange Beetles

Taking the short trip over the bridge to the mainland again we stopped for late lunch, (read around 2:30), in Portmagee which Mr P found had an old pump stand and an award winning toilet block. The little coffee shop where purchased lunch was also worthy of an award as the food was particularly yummy and strangely innovative.

Award Winning Toilet

Old Portmagee Water Supply

Back on the road we found ourselves passing through peat fields where large strips of peat were gouged out of the paddocks, cut into small lengths and then arranged in stacks to dry our before being stored and used in fireplaces for cooking and heating. Stopping to check out one of the stacks, Mr P got up close and personal with Pete Peat before a small portion was souvenired for smuggling back to Scotland.

Pete Peat & Mr P

Back up into the panorama filled hills we drove before heading back down to the coast and a beach that actually has sand. Not only that, but despite the cloud and very intermittent sunshine, (the temperature was relatively mild at around 20 degrees), there were numerous families dotting the beach and one or two brave souls enjoying the 10cm ripples that passed as waves. Just because they could, the male members of the party let loose their lower legs for a short paddle. Briefly contemplating going further, the though of drying off with small hand towels stifled any further thoughts of a more substantial dip.

Kerry Panorama

Aussie Bathers

Using the beachside bar’s toilet facilities Mr P ignored the sign requesting a 1Euro donation for non customer use of the facilities as we made our way back on to the main road.

Rolling Kerry Hills

Leaving the coast behind it was back to rolling hills and on the road to Dingle via Castlemaine. Mr P recalling the popular song, “The Wild Colonial Boy” had always associated the lyrics telling of the birth of “The Boy” with the town in central Victoria not realising that Jack Doolan was actually an Irish born lad.

The real Birthplace Of Jack Doolan

Finding ourselves back on the coast again Mickey implored us to stop and check out some surfers catching waves before we drove on to our next B&B stop, Dingle. Fortunately finding a car park space just up the road from our rooms we unpacked and headed off to find dinner. Walking down the hill to the harbourside strip we noted the stream flowing alongside the footpath running under the adjacent houses.

Irish Surfers

More Running Damp Than Rising

Just about every pub or restaurant in town offered free live music which Mr P and Ms V greatly enjoyed, (M&M had had a late night the previous night in Killarney so they headed off for a relatively early night). Finally “sung out” Mr P and Ms V joined them in the land of nod.

Ups And Downs From Bays To Falls

The next day dawned to the sound of heavy rain falling on the roof. The mood of the day went further downhill when we tuned into the Geelong vs St Kilda game via the internet. We listened as Geelong finally drew level late into the last quarter only for the line to drop out for the last vital minute only to come back again to inform us that the Saints had indeed scored. The very hearty breakfast provided by our hosts helped raise the mood a little before we finally took the drive back down the hill to Kinsale and the drive on to Killarney.

For the first part of the drive we travelled along the coast taking in the view of a number of inlets, bays and rivers. On the quaintly named Harbour View bay we watched as a windsurfer prepared to take the long walk over the beach to the waves. The strength of the wind suggested that his walk would not be in vain. The remnant wooden pylons below the carpark suggested that the harbour has long since been taken by the waves.

The Harbour View

Windsurfer Taking The Long Walk

Harbour View Pylons

A little further on we drove over the causeway into Burren Bay. Momentarily contemplating hiring a pedal boat or Canadian canoe before realising that the wind would have taken us to the other side of the bay, the pretty coloured houses across the bay stood out against green hills. Driving onto to the little village of Timoleague our attention was caught this time by Irish Telefon booth.

Burren Bay

A Gaelic Phone Box

Deciding to take the scenic route even though it meant slower travelling often down hedge lined lanes or through villages with narrow streets we came across the village of Glandore. Perched quite precariously on the hillside surrounding a lovely bay the village stretched out along the road down the hillside. This meant that workers had to make do such as the tractor driver. The small harbour was quite pretty being used by a range of boats including a group of girls in a rowing scull and one brave soul who was out swimming.

Glandore Harbour

Tractor Parking In The Main Street Glandore Style

Glandore Panoramically

Moving on through rolling hills we next visited Glengarriff another riverside village before we headed up through ?? Pass. Driving on ever narrowing roads into ever more glowering weather things were becoming very atmospheric. Finally we reached the top of the pass and headed down into the next valley through some quite amazing road tunnels carved into the mountain rock into the quite pretty village of Kenmare. Unfortunately because we were running a little behind time we had to drive through the town taking pics out of the windscreen.

The Unknown Pass

Road Tunnels Irish Style

Kenmare On The Run

The next up took Mr P and Ms V back into relatively familiar territory. On their last visit to Ireland, both enjoyed the stunning views on offer on the drive up and over Molls Gap. Just as on the previous occasion, the green treeless mountains loosely contained by low rock walls dotted with the occasional black faced sheep, (often on the roadside of the rock fence), were complimented by low glowering grey clouds which intermittently spread showers in our path. The Avoca coffee and souvenir shop once again provided an ideal break to the journey allowing us to de-stress and take in the steady stream of fellow travellers in cars, numerous buses and in two cases, cyclists who you could see almost licking their lips at having conquered the up and were relishing the thought of 5-10 miles of downhill alternately riding the brakes and letting things loose.

View Over Molls Gap

Heading down the valley ourselves we took it in turns to find a couple of busless stop of points to check out the lakes below before we stopped off at Torc Falls. By now the humid conditions in our car along with the winding roads was taking its toll on Miche in the back seat so she and Mickey didn’t join Mr P as he was dragged further up the hill from the falls by Ms V. Dodging yet another shower both made their way down to the carpark where we were once again asked if we wanted a ride in one of the many horse and traps that are available to tourists to travel up the road to Muckross House and beyond.

Muckross Lakes

Driving onto Muckross, Miche in particular was taken by the sweeping lawn and the garden that this time, (unlike the previous occasion Mr P and Ms V had visited), was in full bloom. Some serious and up close photography was the order of the day before yet another heavy shower put all thought of an early evening visit, (it was getting on towards 7pm), to the adjacent Muckross Abbey out of the question.

Muckross House	Muckross Flowers
More Muckross Flowers	Still More Flowers

Where's Jim's Mowing When You Need Them, The Muckross Front Lawn

Driving on through the rain we made our way into Killarney and our next B&B. Having been greeted reluctantly at the doorway by our land lady who apologised for not taking a lot of notice of us because she was watching the Federer-Roddick Wimbledon final and it was deep into the final set, we too made our way upstairs to catch the last few games complete with Gaelic commentary, a surreal experience. With that out of the way our host apologised profusely and gave us the obligatory tour and suggestions for what to do before we set off on the short walk into town and pizza dinner.

On the way into town, we found the main streets of the town had been blocked off for a buskers festival with three different buskers at a time competing for the attention of the public passing by. On the way back to our rooms there was still one lonely busker plying his trade in the gentle mizzle to a group of around 20 or so folk.

Of Strawberries, Monasteries and Fisheries

Firstly apologies for the delay in keeping up with the trip details but the Internet access has been a bit flaky as we have gone along. However fear not dear readers as I hope to add quite a few posts today .

After a hearty breakfast it was time to bid farewell to DCU once again, (if you are heading to Dublin in the summer, DCU is a great place to stay being quite a lot cheaper than other venues around the city). Fortunately we didn’t have to cross the city to head south instead taking advantage of the ring road. Soon out in the country on a motorway it was joy to be finally able to open up our little car to the 120km/hour speed limit. Despite signs warning of speed cameras and the like we were being constantly overtaken by other cars travelling well in excess of this limit.

Soon however we were back on minor roads again and in need of a “comfort stop” we pulled into the lovely little village of Durrow enticed more probably by the opportunity to purchase some Wexford strawberries from a roadside stall. Wexford is a seaside town on the south east coast of Ireland that Ms V and Mr P had visited the last time they were in this part of the world. One claim to fame of Wexford, (apart from strawberries), is that it has been invaded by each of the hostile folk who have sought to subjugate the natives. Our strawberries proved very succulent especially the smaller ones which had real taste as opposed to some of the plum sized ones that you purchase in supermarkets back home.

The town square of Durrow though very pretty didn’t have a toilet facility so it was decided to enquire at one of the local pubs, the Durrow Inn. The publican and a couple of folk at the bar were very obliging enquiring where we were from, (they got it in one), before telling us about the great fishing in the area. Heading out from the pub we noticed the name above the carpark entrance, (where was Manuel??) and headed to the entrance to the Durrow Castle. Needing to keep moving we passed up the chance to check out the wedding party heading up the castle drive, instead being attracted to the ivy covered buildings on the other side of the square.

Durrow Town Square	The Patrons Of The Durrow Inn
Would You Want To Stay Here Manuel?	Durrow Castle: A Great Place For A Wedding

A little further up the road we had to pull over when the Rock of Cashel hove into view. The rock is the site of fortresses and chapels that have been built and modified and added to since 370 AD. St Patrick visited the site in 450AD and baptised the then Munster King. Since that time numerous other priests have inhabited the rock. As a result there are numerous stories to tell about the rock as well as some interesting artefacts and artworks many of which are now in the process of being restored. Taking in the view from the rock it is easy to see why people of power were attracted to it. Having spent more time here than we had anticipated a takeaway lunch was the order of the day however the burger place we chose for a quick meal proved less than appetising.

Approaching The Rock Of Cashel

M&M Resting Before The Rock Of Cashel	The Cashel Windows and Round Tower
A Collection Of Axes	St Pat's Cross

Looking Down From The Rock

Back in the car in the by now glorious sunshine the drawback of not having air-conditioning was very apparent. Driving on we took in the attractive green countryside leading into the coastal village of Kinsale, our stop for the night. Our very comfortable B&B was just a little out of town and having dropped of our bags we drove down the hill into town. Kinsale is a port town that services a number of fishing boats as well as quite large marina. The bay has a number of arms enclosed by a narrow inlet on which there are twin forts.

Kinsale Harbour

Having wandered around the harbour and town taking in yet another walking hen’s party, a mum and son fishing from the wharf, and a local fisherman feeding a seal we also checked out the two monuments along the dock. The foredeck monument celebrates the harbour whilst the Kinsale Hooker fishing vessel commemorates those seafarers from Kinsale who have lost their lives at sea. Across the road from the dock was a fun fair and the local yacht club frequented by numerous Fosters carrying sailors. By then it was once again time to eat and given our mixed experiences earlier in the day we were very happy to enjoy an excellent Indian meal not that different from our favorite curry place back in Geelong.

A Couple Of Old Hens	The Marina At Kinsale
A Kinsale Hooker	The Foredeck

Thankfully the long days , (it doesn’t get dark until after 10pm), allowed us to still check out the major of the two forts, Fort Charles. This fort is reached by taking a very narrow laneway down and up the hills alongside the bay. Built directly on the shoreline the fort is imposing and in its time would have easily commanded access to the harbour.

Fort Charles' Gate

Looking Across The Narrows From Fort Charles

Given the timing of our visit we were unable to gain access to the interior of the fort though we spent the best part of an hour exploring the extensive fortifications outside the main fort walls. As the night finally began to descend there was an opportunity to appreciate the lights of the town across the bay before taking the short drive back to our B&B.

Kinsale By Night

Was It The Guinness Or The Grid?

Unlike the day before, today dawned dry though a little cloudy as we navigated our way into central Dublin and across the Liffey in order to get to the Guinness Storehouse. Miche had read in a brochure that as it was the Guinness 250 celebration year, at 11am each day there was a special tour which explored parts of the brewery that normal tours didn’t. Ms V’s navigation skills were well switched on and we found street parking close to the Guinness Factory with time to spare so a visit to the Guinness Store was in order. One of the walls of the entry area was lined with unfilled samples of Guinness bottles down the ages.

The Storehouse

Guinness Bottles Down The Ages

Do You Recognise Any Of These?

 Finally our tour guide Michael arrived and distributed a headphone set to each of the tour members and we were off to check out the copy of the 9000 year lease that Arthur Guinness had signed some 250 years ago for the factory site. This enduring lease which was set a 45pound per year has now been bought out but was otherwise excellent value.

The Guinness Tourist

The Guinness Lease

The Storehouse, the site of the original brewery is a heritage listed building that has now been modified to house the displays that tells the story of how Guinness is brewed, marketed, and distributed worldwide. The displays range over five floors ending at the Gravity lounge some seven floors above the street and a enclosed in a glass fronted shape of a pint glass.

At the bottom level we checked out and sampled some of the Guinness ingredients, barley, water, hops and yeast. The water display, a very noisy waterfall drawing water from the nearby Wicklow Mountains, was particularly spectacular though not everyone enjoyed tasting the roasted barley which was a little like eating dried coffee beans. 

Ms V Under The Waterfall

Another eye-catching display was the large stack of barrels in the coopering area. Though Guinness now use stainless steel throughout the brewing process both to brew and ship their product, up until the 1970’s oak barrels were used exclusively for the latter task. All of these barrels were produced in-house and the coopers shop was one of the most skilled areas of the factory. Reputedly the stored stack of barrels was so large that pilots of planes flying into Dublin Airport used it as a reference point when coming in to land.

A Stack Of Guinness

On our way up through the “world’s largest pint glass”, (Michael our guide made sure we remembered this by repeating it on just about every floor), we got to taste a little of the brew before finally being taken into a special room that the other tours missed out on. Here we got to taste the three different brews that Guinness presently produces, the standard Guinness, an Extra Stout variety and a 250 years celebratory Guinness that is only available in a few countries one of which strangely is not Ireland. All at our table agreed that the standard Guinness was the preferred drop.

Three Likely Guinness Types

At this stage our informative guide Michael left us to explore for ourselves the final couple of floors including the Gravity Lounge, at one stage the highest room in Dublin. From here you could take in panoramic views of the city extending out to the south to the Wicklow Mountains. We also got to sample a free pint of Guinness or in Ms V’s case, a bottle of soft drink whilst we took in the view. Amongst the quite large crowd in the lounge not all the pint glasses poured were consumed, many sitting almost still full but abandoned on tables. Mickey and Mr P are sure we saw one young chap take advantage of this scoring more than one free tipple.

On the way out Ms V spotted a copy of the harp that is the Guinness marketing symbol and reputedly one used by St Patrick. 

Did St Pat Play This Harp?

Some three hours after arriving at the Storehouse we arrived back at the car parked on the street. Having to move we decided to navigate to a multi-storey carpark which wa not as easy as first thought. The majority of inner Dublin is made up now of one way streets that were not otherwise indicated on our map. In addition, by early afternoon the traffic was quite busy so as a result our “short”parking move proved quite a testing drive but we soon found a spot and then took in lunch. Mr P and Ms V decided to head over to Dublin City Hall where there is a museum of the history of the city of Dublin. Through a range of static and audio visual displays we learnt more about Viking history then the conquering influence of the English in various waves followed by independence. Though the temperature outside was only in the low 20’s, combined with the high humidity from the rain of the previous day, the underground display rooms in the city hall were quite stuffy. On more than one occasion both Mr P and Ms V had to watch one of the videos a couple of times to review the excerpts missed when our eyelids dipped for a second or three.

The dome in the City Hall upper area was particularly spectacular having been recently fully restored. Back on the street Mr P spotted a number of plaques over doors and other places. These commemorate spots where Irish patriots have been killed during and since the 1916 Easter Uprising. Across the street Mr P also spotted a couple taking in the evening airs by sitting on their window ledge.

Two Dublin Swords: One Greater, One Lesser	City Hall Dome
Martyrs Plaque	Couple Taking In The Evening Airs

Wandering back through the Temple Bar area and some attractive pubs bedecked with flower planters we came across a music group setting up to busk. Catching up with M&M on tha’penny bridge we went back to find the music had started so we joined the watching throng to listen in for 30 minutes or so before wandering back through the Temple Bar to a pub that had been recommended by work colleagues of Mickey. Along the way we saw a couple of other buskers plying their trade.

 

The pub, The Porterhouse, proved a good choice as we got the chance to watch the last few games of the Roddick-Murray tennis match for which Roddick’s victory gained quite a lot of applause from patrons. 

Temple Bar Floral Displays

Having enjoyed a nice meal we made our way back to the car for what turned out to be a nightmarish trip back to the Uni. With our way constantly blocked by either traffic or the no turn policy from most of the main streets and with a map that didn’t show all of the streets nor none of their directional flow, combined with the fact that street signs if present are all on the sides of buildings often hidden amongst an array of other signs and artefacts it was all hands on deck as far as navigation was concerned. Just as we seemed to be heading in the right direction a siren alerted us to the ambulance closing fast behind us. Seeking to move out of his way we were then confronted by a cyclist who had turned illegally from a street to our right and was now heading directly for us. With a little bit of bad language from within the car we somehow managed to miss him and get out of the way of the ambulance. In the process however we travelled across an intersection where we needed to turn and as a result were once again effectively lost. Fortunately Miche recognised the Guinness Storehouse in the distance down a side street and we managed to navigate to a familiar street and congratulating ourselves make our way across the river heading for the Uni.

Unfortunately the congratulations were a little premature and we managed to miss a vital turn. Once again finding ourselves in unfamiliar territory and fast heading out of town, we decided to keep on this route to meet up with the ring road which we then used to get us back to the airport and the now familiar road heading back into Dublin and the Uni. Exhausted from all of this road trauma, sleep came easily.

Getting To Grips With Dublin

Up bright and early (5:15am), we had breakfast and stowed our gear in the car before heading for the airport. Heading up the hill into town it was realised that we had left the Edinburgh map at the flat and as a consequence were flying blind. Because of roadworks associated with the new tramway we soon found that the normal route to the airport was blocked and that we were directed into an area of the city that M&M were yet to explore. With time ticking away, (though in reality with quite a buffer), things got a bit tense in the car. Eventually stopping at a service station we found we were not that far away from where we wanted to be and after a short diversion via a motorway we were at our car park.

Bidding the car farewell it was into the courtesy bus for the short trip to the airport and the Ryanair desk. As a low cost airline Ryanair offers very cheap flights however the flip side is that they also charge very steeply for anything other than the basic service, (see the cost of having them print out boarding passes). Their baggage limits are very strict and large penalties apply, (even down to refusing to carry it if you exceed these limits). As a result all manner of subterfuge is used by passengers to get as much on board in the cabin as possible. One tactic is to wear as much of your clothing on board as you can. As a result, even though it was quite a steamy and warm morning there were numerous people wearing jumpers and coats as if for wintery times. We did notice one disgruntled young man leave the desk after being told it would cost him in excess of 100pounds for his luggage to fly, (presumably like us his ticket had cost less that 20 pound).

Breathing a collective sigh of relief when our reservations were accepted we made our way through to the boarding lounge to be told by the boards our flight would be 15 minutes late. We were just about to relax when a couple of minutes later our flight was called. As seating on Ryanair flights is on a first come first seated basis it is useful when travelling in a group to get in the queue as early as you can. Having secured our spots we began the wait to board only to be told that in fact the gate we were at was not in operation so we would have to go to another one nearby. Of course this stimulated some mild disquiet however we were soon in another queue and ready to pass down onto the tarmac before getting on board.

The rest of our 50 minute flight was very uneventful, especially for those amongst the party that had a snooze. Landing in Dublin three of us joined yet another queue as Miche sped through immigration on her UK passport. Once in the arrival lounge it was decided to grab a snack and some money before collecting our Europcar hire car. On the way out of the airport building Mr P’s attention was caught by a clamped motorbike.

The Europcar base was quite a way from the airport itself but we soon had our booking confirmed and told where our car was. When we found it however we were bemused to find that it had numerous minor collision marks on it that were not on the report form. Worse however was the fact that the passenger side mirror was missing the electrics housing cover. Ms V delegated herself to complain and an alternative car, (a manual Pugeot 308) was arranged and we were soon taking bets on when Mr P would stall it first.

With directions to our accommodation at DCU in hand we took to the roads. Remarkably Mr P and Ms V could remember much of the lay of the land from their last visit and after some minor delays with a remarkably inefficient booking lady and some problems with the door card we were in our rooms.

Next it was time to head to central Dublin for some sightseeing. Getting into town was quite easy but finding a carpark was a bit more tricky. Finally we found one for 12 Euro for the day and left our car to head for the street. As with our previous visit, the streets were busy with cars, bikes, (no helmets needed here as in Scotland) and pedestrians. Heading over the very dirty Liffey we headed for the castle. Wandering around a little aimlessly we noticed a tour group and sidled over towards them. At a suitable break Mickey enquired if we could join the tour which was answered in the affirmative as the tour was one of the free tours that operate in numerous European cities.

Despite the fairly steady rain, (overnight areas of Dublin had experienced quite significant flooding), the tour was a great introduction to the city as we were regaled with stories of Dublin from the past to present including how the castle was situated next to the Dub Linh or Black Pool which the Vikings had used as their base many years before. The pool has long been isolated from the river and sea and is now filled in and serves as a heliport for visiting dignnatories. At the back of the now lawned area is a wall built so that when Queen Victoria came to stay at the castle at the turn of the century she didn’t have to look out at the slums that were just beyond the wall.

The rest of the tour took us around via numerous precincts and sites significant to Dublin and Irish history including the site of one of the original and most intact Viking settlements in Ireland that is now completely covered over by the new city offices. A nearby arrangement of stones in the pavement indicates the basic floorplan of a Viking house which typically housed twenty or more inhabitants in a very small space indeed. Another fact we learnt about the Vikings was that the commanded fleets of significant size with fifty and more ships in each. Vikings also despite popular conception never worn horned helmets as it was too dangerous to sail and fight wearing them, (argghh Hollywood again).

Passing through Temple Bar saw the original bar owned by the owner of the area at one time Sir William Temple. We also caught up with more current history in the form of Rory Gallagher’s guitar high on the side of a building wall and saw the venue where U2 first began to play. We also stopped off at the Queen of Hearts for a very tasty, (though slightly overpriced tarts and drinks). Crossing over the river we heard the story of the Ha’penny bridge and the various Dublin City Council Millennium projects including another bridge and the underwater clock in the Liffey, (the latter which didn’t quite work and was quickly removed). We also saw the Father Pedr Clancey plaque which appeared one night on the O’Connell bridges commemorating the death of said priest which didn’t actually happen.

Looking back up O’Connell St, reputedly the widest street in Europe, it looked strangely out of place next to the other quite narrow and crowded streets and laneways. We also took in the tallest sculpture in Europe in the Millennium Spire.

Wandering on through the quite persistent rain we entered Trinity College taking shelter in the Campanile in the centre of the square. Here we heard tales of how some students have sought to use the old rules of the college that have not been changed over the time since Queen Elizabeth the First began the college in the 1700’s. We then went past Leinster House the former residence of one of the Irish Lords but now the site of the Irish Parliament before ending up in St Stephen’s Green and some statues commemorating the great Irish patriot Wolfe Tone and on the other side the great Irish Famines. The second of these famines caused the Irish population to be more than halved through starvation and displacement of the population.

Leaving our tour guide at this point we walked out from the park and found directly ahead the Exhibition Building like St Stephen’s Shopping Centre. Heading inside to spend 20Euro, which we didn’t actually have so we got in for free, we checked out a couple of shops and headed back towards the Queen of Tarts for some more expensive tarts.

Finding our way back to the car Miche and Ms V spied another shopping centre. Suggesting that Mr P and Mickey might like to take in the by now quite warm late afternoon sun and enjoy a pint or more at the corner pub nearby, the ladies left for 30 minutes of shopping. Some 70 minutes later they emerged again suggesting we get some supplies at the M&S food hall. As Miche had not actually eaten as much as the rest of us this was a good idea and a pizza was purchased to take back to DCU to warm up in the student lounge at the end of the dorm. Adjacent to our rooms were some indoor soccer pitches in use by the Wednesday league. This provided Mr P at least with some entertainment as the pizza warmed. Having finished this and a bottle of Spanish Tempranillo off it was time for bed.

Becoming Literate In Tropical Edinburgh

As we were heading to Ireland the next day, much of this day was taken up with re-packing and organising for this part of the tip. One of these tasks was to print out the boarding passes for our Ryanair flight. Miche was elected to complete this task however somewhere in the processing MS V’s country of origin was not entered properly and we were unable to print the passes. We were also locked out by the Ryanair computer system from going back and finding the problem. Checking on how to remedy this Miche found a phone number. She also found that it would cost almost one pound fifty per minute to make a call to this number. Despite this the call had to be made however when Mickey tried to call on his mobile he found that the number was a premium service number and hence barred on his mobile phone. To fix this problem a call had to be made to the mobile service provider to get them to open the premium service which of course again took some time and explaining. (in case you’re wondering, we could have got the passes printed at the airport on the following day but at a cost of 80 Euro per person!!!!).

Finally we were able to make contact with the Ryanair booking staff and mercifully the gentleman on the end of the phone was quite efficient and it only cost a few pounds for him to rectify the problem in the system and for us to have our passes opened for printing again.

Whilst all this was going on, washing was done and a picnic lunch prepared to share in the by now glorious but strangely foreign sunshine. Just as we were about to leave for the botanical gardens Mr P went to hang out the next load of washing to feel a couple of stray rain drops. An amended plan for lunch was put in place and we headed back down the river a street away. No more than half a km from home, the storm broke with a vengeance. Undaunted we donned our jackets, unfurled umbrellas. unwrapped our rolls and enjoyed an otherwise sodden picnic.

Picnicking Edinburgh Style

Soon enough the rain stopped but with the temperature up around the 20 celsius mark things got very steamy. Miche and Mickey decided a cup of tea was required so they adjourned to a local tea shop Eteaket where we joined them not long after. Once again Mr P found something quirky to take his attention, this time a three faceted sandglass tea timer, one for light, one medium and one strong.

Tea Timing By Three

M&M Eteaket Tearorists

Whilst M&M went back to the flat, V&J wandered on into town and the M&S Store before heading over to the Old Town and down into the Grassmarket and the Beehive, the pub where Mickey works. Here we joined around 20 others, including M&M who had now found us again, for the literary pub tour. Lead by two actors “Mr McLarct” and “Mr ??“ we spent a fabulous two hours wandering around the closes, mews and pubs of the old town before ending up in the new town all the way along being regaled with tales and excerpts of the heroes of Scottish literature. As well as the usual Burns, Stevenson and Scott we heard of numerous other’s works all the while learning how Scots literature and indeed life is so often filled with contradiction between the pure and the seamy side of life.

Clarinda and Sylvania Our Literary Guides

Mr McLart Making A Literary Point

Getting Ready To Become Literate

At one open air stop we were joined by three youths who decided it would be fun to rattle a chair noisily in the background. One of our group, a large man from a Scandinavian country decided to sort them out and approached the youths motioning them to be quiet. Fortunately for us his large presence did the trick and they were soon enough on their way albeit with a stream of unsavoury language as they left the close.

Despite this minor interruption we all learnt much about the place of Edinburgh in literature even down to modern authors including a little about JK Rowlings. By the end of the tour it was getting on towards 10pm but as we had not actually had dinner we were getting a bit peckish however at that time of night all of the pubs had stopped serving dinner. As we wandered the streets on our way home Mr P pondered on the lack of takeaway food outlets, at least in this main part of town. At the bottom of the hill near the flat however we happened on a baked potato shop still open. Three steaming hot potatoes covered in salt and topping were soon being consumed on a nearby park bench before we left to complete our packing for the flight to Dublin the next day.

Ready, Set,

Scoff