…..on my Patreon site, which has been fun. At the moment, I’ve written primarily about Morro Bay, due in part that it’s a stand-in for my fictional coastal town in Secrets & Howls. I try to visit at least once a year for a couple of days, as my budget allows. Sometimes, I’m very lucky and can make an extra trip. When I drive into town, it’s like coming home.
There are a couple of other places that I will write about in this series, such as Long Beach and Monterrey, CA. I’ll also write about the places I visited while touring Ireland last year. It’s my belief that a place can inspire you the more familiar it gets – as you peel back the layers, you start to see the similarities among the differences.
…….and I have to say, it’s hard to believe it’s been a year.
It feels like it just happened. It also feels like it happened more than a year ago.
I plan to go back, there’s so much more to see than just taking a tour over the course of a week and cramming so much activity into a day.
Maybe not during high holy days, like Good Friday, but for sure I plan to take longer than eight days and seven nights to enjoy my stay. I slept better in Ireland than I have at any other time in my life. I ate breakfast at 7 AM. I never eat breakfast until about 9 or 10. Sometimes I just forget about it altogether. Boy, did I eat while I was over there. Once back in the states, I was back to my regular schedule.
But I never stopped thinking about Ireland.
I have to go back. My soul belongs there. So does my heart. I have family there – I have no idea who they are and they have no idea of who I am. But I want to know them.
Plus, you know, Guinness beer tastes better over there.
……..about life, the universe and everything (the answer is 42). I found myself thinking about Ireland again (it never really goes away, memories of places that claim your heart) and of the two, very different, reactions I got when I mentioned the trip.
Reaction #1 – “You’re going to Ireland! How exciting!”
This was the general response and it would devolve into the minutiae of what I was going to see, when I was going, how long, etc. I loved these conversations because they reminded me of what was to come. I had no idea of what to expect, beyond just getting there. So I learned to not expect anything.
A lot of planning and packing, re-packing and organizing went on in the six or seven months before I left. I like to make sure I’ve prepared for every contingency. Also, I was really excited and couldn’t wait to get started.
Reaction #2 – “I bet you’ll meet someone.”
Or variations of that.
I was always a little nonplussed by that comment. I was going to Ireland, not Mars – of course I was going to meet people.
Invariably, they meant that I would meet a man, a romantic prospect that would add a little sparkle to an already sparkling adventure, with the shelf-life of the trip’s duration.
This wasn’t wrong for them to hope and I appreciated their love for me, in wanting that for me, a little romance to garnish what I already had.
I didn’t plan my trip for any reason other than to visit the land of my great-great grandparents. I wanted to touch the ground they had walked on, maybe get closer to knowing where they may have been born and grew up. I don’t think I’m any closer than I was before the trip, but at least I’m not any further away.
As for love, well, it’ll happen when it happens. I’m too busy with my life to worry about it.
……now that I’m done re-visiting my trip to Ireland. I’m not sure what course to plot next, but I have some ideas that I’ve started working on. Not necessarily another travel-log, but things that should at least be interesting.
In any case, I’ll try not to mourn the end of my trip down memory lane too much. It was a grand adventure, I feel very lucky that I was able to manage it and I hope to find my way back. Not to repeat it, one can never do that, but to deepen my experience by spending more than one day in a specific place.
That’s the goal, anyway.
In the mean time, I’ve got a novel to finish, a play to revise and a show to act in. Also, it never hurts to plan the next big adventure.
I think I’ll look at Middle-Earth, see if I can convince Gandalf the Gray to take me on one of his quests.
Dinner the night before had been fun – we were entertained by some of live Irish music and a trio of Irish dancers. Lots of laughing and teasing and good food and drink. And then it was back to the hotel to pack and get ready for the journey home.
Saturday. My last morning in Ireland.
What else can I say? Other than I had to make sure everything was ready, I had showered and dressed. Then, with all my luggage in tow, I made my way down to the restaurant for my last breakfast in Ireland. It was an early trip to the airport, which is always best for checking in one’s luggage and going through the security check points.
I also went through customs at the Dublin airport, prior to getting to my gate. I was prepared to do this when I landed in San Francisco, but because the customs check-point was in the Dublin airport, I didn’t have to. I actually think this is a far more efficient way of doing things – you have the security check-points, then customs, all of which are designed to prevent trouble from getting on the plane.
On the flight back to San Francisco, I finally got to see The Martian (2015) and one other film, before I settled in for a long nap.
On the flight to Dublin, however, I treated myself to The Hobbit (2012) and The Desolation of Smaug (2013).
How else to start an unexpected journey?
I enjoyed writing about my trip to Ireland. I was able to recall and embrace certain moments that I’d almost forgotten. It seems to have been an enjoyable read for many.
Friday was my last full day in Ireland. Without really thinking about it, I had chosen to make this journey between St. Patrick’s Day and the centennial anniversary of the Easter Rising(1). Had I been a little more aware of the historical significance of the dates, I would have found a way to stay on awhile longer.
We left Galway that morning, after breakfast and headed back towards Dublin. On the way back, we made a scheduled stop at KIlbeggan Distillery. As we pulled into the parking lot, an official greeter arrived to meet the bus. He exchanged hellos as we disembarked, taking time to make each of us feel welcome.
After his warm greeting, the very friendly feline made sure we found our way to the sign, which showed us how to get on with the tour. We made our way down a narrow passage way to the main street – another sign directed us through a gate and we soon found ourselves in a kind of courtyard, which featured a cafe-type space (closed) and gift shop.
Once inside the distillery, we were greeted by our tour guide, who showed us the intricacies of how Irish whiskey was made. We were even given a free shot. Because it was also Good Friday, they weren’t allowed to sell us any alcohol. After that free shot, I was mightily tempted to put in an order, so it was probably a good thing I couldn’t buy it right then. (The temptation has long since worn off.)
I have the shot glass – they let us keep that, if we so chose. I so chose, and it is one of my prized belongings that I brought back with me.
I am not a whiskey drinker, although I have had a shot or two. The shot I sampled at Kilbeggan was delicious and fiery and warmed me to my toes. I wish I could remember what, exactly, we were served, because I’d like to sample it again. Also, I am the kind of person that likes to share the knowledge.
Drinker of whiskey or not, I would encourage a visit to Kilbeggan Distillery, if only to see how it must have worked centuries ago. Something for the history buffs to enjoy.
(1) The Easter Rising of 1916. For an abbreviated version of events, see the film Michael Collins (1996), starring Liam Neeson.
……..thanks to this little app on my phone called Duolingo. I started out with Spanish, then added French and then, in honor of my trip to Ireland, Gaelic.
Let me say, right now, that my Gaelic sucks. I can’t even figure it out in context. That’s okay – I’d never heard it before, so…..I’ll cut myself some slack on that one. I didn’t delete it – it’s still there, waiting for me to come back to it.
And I will.
I fared a lot better with Spanish, mainly because I live in California and am surrounded by the Spanish history and influence. I have a couple of Agatha Christie and Stephen King titles in Spanish, which will be helpful in bettering my comprehension of the language. Years ago, I suspected that if reading helps us with comprehending our native tongue, then surely it would have the same effect when learning a foreign one.
If I already knew the story, I thought, then my main struggle would be in understanding it in a language I’m not fluent in.
I stumbled across that idea when I was taking Spanish in college, lo, these many years ago. I read the Spanish translation of Pablo Neruda’s poetry to my tutor. In a few weeks time, she commented that my pronunciation and comprehension improving. And I was pleased.
So, imagine my surprise when, upon beginning my French lessons on the app, that it came to me far more easily than Spanish did. I’ve progressed further in the French than I have in the Spanish – indeed, I don’t think I’ve gone back to Spanish or Gaelic in over a year.
I’m not worried about that, because my goal is to learn more than one language and some far more complicated than French or Spanish (1). The better I get at French, the easier it will be to switch over to Spanish. Like Italian, French and Spanish derive from the Latin, which explains why they are similar in structure. Even particular words resemble each other.
I’m not exactly sure why I’m feeling determined to learn French right at this moment, but I’m willing to follow my instincts and see where it leads.
Sometimes, that’s what you need to do.
(1) Complicated in that I would also be learning an alphabet made up of letters that I won’t recognize, like Japanese.
As I’ve been writing out these posts about my trip to Ireland, I’m catching memories of things we did en route to wherever we were headed next. I remember at point, we were on a ferry, crossing a channel. I know at one point, we had a stop and I got my first cup of coffee the entire time I was there. For my caffeine fix, I drank mostly black tea.
On Thursday, our regular driver had the day off, so we had a guest driver take us to a tour boat that shuttled us up the only ‘fjord’ in Ireland. It was a short trip, but the sights were beautiful, even with a sharp wind.
There was a cafe on board, so my tour mates treated themselves to coffee or whiskey or some other concoction. I treated myself to an Irish Hot Chocolate – it’s like an Irish coffee, but with hot chocolate. And I got whipped cream on it. Yummy!
The guest driver and I spoke most of the cruise, discussing ancestry and Ireland. He indicated quite strongly that if I had any relatives there, they were likely in the same place where my great-great grandparents had lived before making their journey to America. It goes without saying that it was commented on that I was clearly very Irish, so much so, that I could blend right in with the natives.
There are so many of these little moments, that I wish I’d had the foresight to keep a journal while I was there. Something to remember for next time. And there will be a next time. I don’t know how or when, but I will be going back to Ireland. Hopefully, I’ll find a way to stay longer and make stronger connections.
After two nights in Killarney, we spent two nights in Galway. The previous two posts, visiting the Cliffs of Moher and Cong, were day trips to see more of Ireland. Let me just say that when you go on a tour, they pack things into every moment of each day. Which is a great way to first visit a foreign country.
I did not get any pictures of Galway while we followed our guide, though I did manage to video some street musicians playing. I’m not able to post them here at the moment, but will see if I can find a way to do it via another source. The music was lively and haunting and beautiful – the closest I’ve come to hearing it here in the states is at my local pub and wine bar.
Up to this point, I’d found the weather quite comfortable. It ranged from 35 to 50 degrees every day and I was warm enough wearing just a sweater. The rest of my group had bundled up in heavy coats, mufflers, hats and gloves. Galway changed that within five minutes. I finally put on my heavy coat, thanks to the ice-cold wind coming in off the water.
In some ways, I regret not taking more pictures. There was so much to see and experience, I didn’t want to separate myself from any of it by looking through a view finder. I constantly felt like I was on the verge of something – a discovery, a meeting, something. I’m not sure if I did and haven’t pieced it together yet, or if it’s waiting to reveal itself later on.
Perhaps it’s a mystery I can only unravel by going back to Ireland.