Ireland is A Mighty Craic

Today is a big day. We traverse St. George’s Channel to Ireland, but first, a trip to the ancient walled City of Chester in northwest England, which was founded as a Roman fortress in the 1st century AD. And even before that, Maria has a surprise for us! We get to have a stop in Liverpool! Liverpool was not on our original itinerary, and this was one of my greatest disappointments, but you can’t have everything, so I had come to terms with it. As anyone knows who was born since 1930, Liverpool is the birthplace of the Beatles, but you may not know that musicians from this city have produced 56 number 1 singles, more than any other city in the world. In addition, Liverpool was home to poets of such substance that Allen Ginsberg proclaimed the city “the centre of consciousness of the human universe.” Everyone on the coach was excited to be able to see this Hidden Treasure (Whoo Hoo!). Kevin, our driver, pulled the coach into the bus stop and we all piled off for the walk to the Beatles statue at Pier Head. This is a bronze statue, weighing 1.2 tons and attracts crowds from all over the globe. We were lucky to be there at a relatively quiet time, and were able to get our pictures with the statue. But it was a long walk on the pier from the coach stop, and we lost a few of our fellow travelers along the way, who opted for various pubs or other attractions. On the way back, Bob and I had a little extra time, so we went to the Liverpool Beatles Museum. We didn’t have time to do the whole tour, but we wandered through the gift shop and through a few hallways while Bob took some photos and I bought some memorabilia.

Back on the coach, we headed to Chester. One of the coolest things about this trip, and about Britain, is that their cities are not at all like those we see here. Everything grows from old, even ancient architecture, so while I might have been familiar with some of the retail stores (I saw Clark’s shoe stores everywhere), they were housed in beautiful old buildings. And most retail stores seemed to be local unless we stumbled into very posh areas. We arrived in Chester before the retail stores were open, as it was Sunday, and that was probably good, because getting 40+ shopping people herded into a coach to get to a ferry on time might have been a challenge even beyond Maria’s clear talents. But the city itself was beautiful. Laid out in a cross within preserved city walls, it is a terrific example of a medieval city in full use today. It is dotted with coffee shops, retail stores, and apartments in Victorian buildings. One can walk the streets, climb the walls, explore alleyways, and feel like an adventurer as you discover small pubs, nightclubs, and restaurants tucked away for discovery. It might be easy to get lost, but the Eastgate Clock, said to be the most photographed clock in England after Big Ben, rises over the city to reorient the traveler. It is a wonderful city, and well worth a stop.

On the way to the ferry to Ireland, we stopped on the island of Anglesey, Wales, in the village of Llanfairpwllgwyngyll. The Welsh have their own language which is lovely to hear, and while it had fallen out of usage, it is now being taught in the schools, and in some parts of Wales, it is the primary language. The word Llanfairpwllgwyngyll means ‘The Church of Mary in the Hollow of the White Hazel Near the Fierce Whirlpool and the Church of Tysilio by the Red Cave.’ This is a railway station near the ferry, and we stopped to allow the group to grab lunch, use the toilets, and spend a few moments at the village with the longest place name in Europe and the second longest one-word place name in the world. The railway station itself impressed me as a bargain store, with loads of low cost and fairly low-quality trinkets. We tried to get some lunch but they didn’t have much ready yet, so we had some sparkling water and figured we would get something on the ferry.

One thing I should mention at this point is that what had begun as slight coughing from one or two people on the coach had now started to become more widespread. Bob and I were unaffected, but we became concerned enough to start wearing our masks, as did most others. Maria addressed this by noting that masking was a good idea, but that in her experience, this was not unusual on these types of trips even before Covid. People coming from many countries, with exposure to different climates, different flora, new heating systems (there was no air conditioning anywhere we went) could be irritating to the lungs and contribute to the type of coughing so many of our fellow travelers were experiencing. Maria noted that she had Covid tests and would be happy to test anyone who wanted to do so.

Holyhead is the port from which we took the ferry to Ireland, and it sits on the island of Angelsey, Wales. We knew we would have more opportunity to explore Wales on the second part of our adventure which would be a week in Wales with our tour guides from Welsh Dragon Tours. Maria had indicated that the trip across on the ferry would be about 3 ½ hours. We would drive onto the ferry on the coach, but would then exit the coach and only return once we had reached Ireland. Now I am a risky sea traveler. Sometimes I am fine, but all too often, I first develop a headache, then a stomachache, then an attack of vomiting, after which I feel fine again. But the idea of vomiting in front of a bunch of strangers is not my idea of a good time. So my goal on the ferry was to find a quiet corner with a phone charger near a bathroom. That is, until Maria told me that this ferry had cabin rentals. At a price I considered reasonable. With a private bathroom with a shower and two beds. Now we’re talking! So, once we arrived on the main deck, I went to the registration desk and booked us a room. Bob went to the cafeteria, brought a sandwich, some coffee and some drinks up to the cabin, and took a shower and a nap. I tried to work on the blog, but soon recognized the early symptoms of seasickness, enjoyed the use of my private bathroom, felt better, rested, and soon we were in Ireland. Maria tells me the trip back is much worse, so I will endeavor to find some Dramamine before then and use one of my hoarded supply of Scopolamine patches.

Dublin, Ireland! Capital of the Republic of Ireland, Dublin is on the East Coast at the mouth of the River Liffey. Dublin is home to Trinity College, Dublin Castle, and of course, Guinness. Companies such as Microsoft, Google, Amazon, eBay, PayPal, Yahoo!, Twitter, Accenture, TikTok and Pfizer have operational bases in Dublin. As we entered the City, we saw the Famine Statues, which are emotional and haunting, and commemorate the most profound disaster in Irish history, when Ireland lost more than one million of its citizens to starvation. The famine was blamed on a potato blight, as one-third of the population was dependent on the potato for nutrition, but was also exacerbated by political, social and economic issues that continue to be debated today. Jonathan Swift wrote his famous ‘A Modest Proposal’ suggesting eating children as a viable solution to the famine in a satiric attempt to point out the lack of concern of the ruling class for the poor during this terrible time. Today, Dublin is listed by the Globalization and World Cities Research Network as a Global City, one of the top thirty cities in the world. Dublin was one of the places where we had two nights in a hotel so we had ample time to explore the City. St. Patrick’s Cathedral is one of the main draws here, and St. Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland.

Guinness is an Irish dry stout originating in the brewery at St. James Gate in Dublin. It is one of the most successful alcohol brands worldwide. Guinness is considered an excellent employer and partner to the city of Dublin. Employees are provided with quality benefits and working conditions and Guinness provides significant charitable support to the city. That evening, we were treated to dinner at a local Irish restaurant, Nancy Hands. Nancy Hands great name was synonymous with the Public House era in Dublin towards the end the 18th century. The legendry name adorns the ornate dome window and copper frieze of this unique Public House. The interior features an authentic Victorian Bar and original staircase from Trinity College, trodden by Michael Caine and featured in the film ‘Educating Rita’ and a collection of rare and beautiful antiques describing a lifetime of Guinness advertising. Our experience here was similar to many of our dinners at local restaurants. The effects of Covid on these establishments has been significant and many have not survived. Our host was grateful for us, and eager to share with us the history of the restaurant. I have always heard that Guinness is best in Dublin—is that true? It sure is. Smoother and creamier for sure, but I was also told that the pouring and resting before drinking is key. Guinness should rest on a flat surface for 119.5 seconds to allow it to surge and develop its perfect foamy head. And Nancy Hands serves it that way. If you get to Dublin, I strongly recommend a meal at Nancy Hands.

This morning, Bob and I decided to join part of the group to go to the monastery at Glendalough. Glendalough is home to one of the most important monastic sites in Ireland. This early Christian monastic settlement was founded by St. Kevin in the 6th century and from this developed the “Monastic City”. Most of the buildings that survive today date from the 10th through 12th centuries. Despite attacks by Vikings over the years, Glendalough thrived as one of Ireland’s great ecclesiastical foundations and schools of learning until the Normans destroyed the monastery in 1214 A.D. and the dioceses of Glendalough and Dublin were united. It was actually a long drive and I admit I was a little sorry I had selected this one, as I had some things I wanted to do in Dublin and I hadn’t realized how far this was. But the site was truly beautiful, and the drive was through rolling hills. Ireland is a shade of green that probably only occurs there due to all the rain, but the rain is usually light, doesn’t last for long, and if it produces that shade of green is well worth it. And the other distraction on that drive was that Bob became aware that Ireland has a town called Bray. Bray is a coastal town in county Wicklow and we were within about 20 kilometers of it during this trip. Bob was disappointed that we couldn’t get there, but he amused himself by photographing Bray road signs and Bray destined public buses. Once we got to Glendalough, Bob looked at every headstone (and there were a lot) to see if he could find any Bray’s there. Sadly, he was unsuccessful.

As we drove back to Dublin, Maria called our attention to the many rows of homes taking up entire city blocks. All the doors to those homes were painted different colors, many were very vibrant. The reason for this, she shared, was that because if the doors were all the same, people wouldn’t be able to distinguish their home from any other. They used the colored doors to find their home. Another curiosity in the architecture was the number of windows, which were few, especially in churches and cathedrals. This is because the numbers of windows were taxed so most builders kept the numbers down. A building with lots of windows and lots of wood showed that the owner was wealthy.

Once we got back to Dublin, I knew what I wanted to see. The Book of Kells at Trinity College. This is an illuminated manuscript, written in Latin, of the four gospels of the New Testament and is one of the great treasures of medieval Europe. The books are illustrated with calligraphy and surpass that of other Insular Gospel books in extravagance and complexity. The decoration combines traditional Christian iconography with the ornate swirling motifs typical of Insular art. Figures of humans, animals and mythical beasts, together with interlacing patterns in vibrant colors, enliven the manuscript's pages. I had always heard that the Book of Kells was one of the most beautiful manuscripts in the world, and being a major book lover, really wanted to see them. The pictures I posted here are illustrations from the book that are displayed in the museum. You can’t take pictures of the actual books. You have to have tickets to see them, and we were simply lucky to have hit the internet at the right moment and got our tickets for about fifteen minutes later. The people behind us couldn’t get tickets for several hours so we must be living right.

The Book of Kells was really beautiful, but I was unprepared for what came next. You exit that portion of the museum into the Old Library at Trinity College. I don’t have the words for this experience. I’m a pretty secular person, but if I had to identify a higher power, it would be books. I think all of the knowledge of the world, all of the good, all of the evil, exists in books. And if you want to see a place where books are the path to heaven, you must go to the Old Library Long Room at Trinity College in Dublin. It is nearly 65 meters in length and is filled with over 200,000 books. It is billed as one of the most impressive libraries in the world. For me, at least at this point, the most impressive. It was so beautiful, so massive, so filled with history, art, and knowledge, and is so visually and emotionally impactful on first sight that I was not surprised to find tears running down my face as I turned to take it all in. It is a living library, and staff, graduates and students can access the volumes. It is the best argument I can find for getting yet another degree at age 70. I’m not sure how long we spent there, but it was not enough. It’s a toss-up for me now. I used to say I wanted to go to Middle Earth when I die, but I will also be satisfied to end up in the Long Room at the Old Library.

That evening, we again attended a dinner show, this time showcasing the talents of a troupe of Dublin musicians, dancers and singers. And they were no amateurs. The dancers came from Riverdance. The singers and musicians from Celtic Woman and Broadway. They pulled some folks from the audience to participate and while the food was nothing special, the entertainment was terrific. It was another of those - squash a lot of people into a building, but it thankfully didn’t get too warm.

One note about evenings in both Ireland and Scotland. I don’t think the sun really goes down. It was more pronounced in Scotland but also true in Ireland. We would leave a dinner around 9 pm and the sky was still showing a good bit of sun just skimming the horizon in the west. Most of our hotels had good blackout curtains, but when they did not, sleeping was tough. I didn’t expect that. And to follow up on the coughing, many members of the coach coughing troop had been testing for Covid and came up negative. That was a good sign, but we kept our masks on while in the coach.

Next day we bid a fond farewell to Dublin and headed for Bundoran in County Donegal. This is a really beautiful drive, but a long one as we traveled across Ireland from east to west. Maria amused us with tales of Irish faeries, which are not very nice creatures. They are considered to be fallen angels and can create all sorts of misadventure. She also spent time giving us a history lesson about Oliver Cromwell, a man who figured heavily in our travels in Wales. Maria is British, German and Catholic, so her perceptions of Cromwell are colored by her background, but she taught us all to say BOO!! when she said Cromwell, and after my travels, I tend to agree with her perception. Cromwell stands as one of the most controversial figures in Irish and British history, considered a dictator by Winston Churchill, a revolutionary by Trotsky, and a libertarian hero by John Milton. James Joyce mentioned Cromwell in Ulysses, noting that he had “God is love” pasted around the mouth of his cannon. While he was very tolerant of Protestants, his behavior towards Catholics has been described as genocidal, and he and his armies certainly destroyed and plundered many beautiful Catholic cathedrals throughout Britain and Ireland. He is justifiably hated by most of the Irish, and greatly contributed to the religious unrest between Catholics and Protestants that remains even today. He was well known for the massacre of civilians after military battles and the destruction of places of Catholic worship. Fittingly, Cromwell died from a bout of malaria when he refused to accept the only known treatment, Quinine, because it had been discovered by Catholic Jesuit missionaries. The malaria progressed to septicemia. He was so very hated, however, that his body was exhumed after burial and subjected to a posthumous execution, where it was hanged and beheaded. It’s hard to feel sorry for Cromwell. BOO!!

Once we reached the River Shannon we embarked on a cruise on the Moon River Pleasure Cruiser. The Moon River is a luxury 110 passenger cruiser with a full bar and on-board entertainment. The Shannon River is the longest river in the British Isles. According to Irish legend, the river was named after a woman named Sionann. She went to the river to find wisdom, though she was warned not to approach the water. She did, though, and caught the Salmon of Wisdom (which is probably why salmon is so good for you), but then the river rose and drowned her. The myth has it that her divine power dissolved into the water, which gives life to the land. I plan to stay on the boat. The river is quite calm, so I wasn’t worried about seasickness, and they had my favorite treat (scones, clotted cream, raspberry jam and cappuccino) and the guitarist was skilled and had a great voice. To our surprise, he played Take Me Home, Country Roads, and being West Virginia fans, we sang along.

Once off the boat, we noticed that Maria seemed uncharacteristically anxious. Typically, she seemed to take everything in stride, and as I watched her try to manage the needs and idiosyncrasies of 40+ people on a touring coach, I was impressed and happy that I didn’t have her job. It turned out there were two problems. The first was that she had left behind her purse at a previous stop. It contained her credit cards, which she could cancel, but also about 2,000 pounds in cash. She had contacted the local police and was waiting for a return call. The second problem was that our hotel for the night was overbooked so we couldn’t stay there. But the resourceful team at Costsavers found us a replacement. The Clayton Hotel in Sligo, Ireland.

Now you do want to stay in a castle with a ghost. That goes without saying. But the Clayton Hotel in Sligo was way cooler than that. This impressive building was built for 250 insane patients and housed such patients from 1794-1857 at the end of the Irish Famine. It became a hotel sometime in the 1990’s. It was easily one of the best hotels we were able to stay in, and it had a pool with a hot tub, a steam room, a sauna, a spa, a very nice workout room and a sensory room designed for children with special needs. As the plan for the next day was to take another long drive and go to a pottery center, Bob and I elected to remain in the hotel and take advantage of some extra sleep and the pool. We did enjoy the town of Sligo, where I found an apothecary, and asked for some Dramamine. They did not have that, but pointed me to cinnarizine, which is the preferred treatment for seasickness for the British Royal Navy. While not available in the US, it is an antihistamine and calcium channel blocker, and works for motion sickness and vertigo, which I have had in the past. Sounded good to me, so I added some to my pharmaceutical supply. I also added some Robitussin. Bob had developed a minor cough, and I was still ok, but better safe than sorry. Still masking on the coach. Sligo is also famous for the poet, William Butler Yeats, who maintained that Sligo fed his poetic imagination. In Sligo, Yeats became enamored of the Celtic mythology, and we visited his statue there.

County Sligo is also the site of the Classiebawn Castle. Lord Mountbatten, mentor to Prince Charles, was assassinated near here in 1979 with his family as they were lobster potting and tuna fishing in their 30 ft. wooden boat, Shadow V. The boat had been moored in the harbor at Mullaghmore and was boarded by a member of the Irish Republican Army, who hid a 50 lb radio-controlled bomb aboard. Once the boat was a few hundred yards from shore, the bomb was detonated, killing the entire family, including several teens. The IRA claimed responsibility for the attack, which added additional fuel to the fire of The Troubles in Northern Ireland. One of the underlying themes present during our visit was the recognition that England’s rule over Ireland, Scotland and Wales continues to be a sore subject if you scratch that surface. The Classiebawn Castle, rising over the seascape and across a peaceful field of grazing sheep is now owned by the estate of an Irish businessman.

Next day was one of the stops I was excited for. We were traveling to Galway and then on to the Cliffs of Moher. That’s how they are known in Ireland. In my family they are an important part of one of our all-time favorite movies; the Princess Bride. The Cliffs of Moher are the dreaded Cliffs of Insanity, where Fezzick scales the cliffs with Vizzini, Buttercup and Inigo Montoya strapped to his back as the Man in Black climbs after them in hot pursuit. We also got some good news today, in that Maria’s purse was found with all the cash intact. In addition, she got to have an amusing telephone relationship with an Irish police officer named Fergil, whom she pronounced had a sexy voice and proceeded to flirt with him on speaker, including us all, much to his amusement. As we drove along today, Maria filled us in on the travelers, frequently known as gypsies, who live in many of the valleys in Ireland. No longer dependent on horses and carriages, they now have RV’s but they still like horses and one way you can spot them is by seeing random horses grazing alongside the roads. She noted that travelers are generally tolerated in Ireland, as they ask nothing from others and take care of themselves.

We made a stop at the Knock shrine in County Mayo. In 1879, the locals in Knock saw an apparition of the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, St. John the Evangelist, several angels, and Jesus. The process for something like this, as described by Maria, is that the Pope sends a commission to such a sighting to interview the people who have seen the apparition to determine its veracity. Apparently, there is an entire department in Rome assigned to such sightings. After assessing and evaluating the many people who saw the apparitions that evening, the Church proclaimed that the sighting was trustworthy. Today there is a beautiful church and grounds with several sculptures, as well as numerous fountains with holy water that anyone can collect. There are several shops nearby that sell religious gifts, and empty bottles so you can collect the holy water. Maria told us that one thing setting Knock apart from many other areas of holy sightings is that the holy water is accessible to anyone, rich and poor, believer and nonbeliever. Very egalitarian.

As we traveled along, we noted there are more cows in Ireland. Still loads of sheep, but we always buy Irish butter so the increase in cows made sense. The coughing continued, and Maria, who leaves a few treats on our seats every morning, has taken to leaving cough drops instead. Everyone still testing negative though, and the cough seems to be the only symptom. And then we were in Galway.

Galway is considered the romantic capital of Ireland, is famous for its music scene and is known as the cultural heart of Ireland. In addition, it is considered one of the eight sexiest cities in the world. We exited the bus onto Eyre Street, which is a narrow jumble of shops and pubs bustling with life. We arrived in midafternoon on a Thursday, and the streets were alive with young people. We missed Truman as we saw loads of young men walking in small groups full of exuberance. There were many stores selling Claddagh rings, some quite expensive, and the largest Claddagh ring store in the world is in Galway. The ring symbols two hands (friendship) clasping a heart (love) capped with a crown (loyalty). If one wears the ring on the right hand, with the crown facing outward, the wearer can be courted. Worn on the left with crown facing outward, the wearer is romantically involved. When married, the ring is worn on the left hand with the crown pointed in, towards the heart. It is very bad luck to buy your own Claddagh ring. We passed on the Claddagh. We did, however, find an excellent parsnip, coconut and honey soup with seedy treacle brown bread at a pub. The Irish are amazing with soup. We also saw lots of women with brightly colored hair in Galway. It’s my kind of town. I also bought a wooly in Galway. Despite the temperature noting 16 C (about 60 F) most days, we found the weather in Britain to be pretty chilly. No need for a coat really, but a good sweater is needed most days along with layers for warmth. This was my second wooly, having picked up the first in Scotland, so now with my two woolies and my light rain jacket, I was prepared for the daily weather, which usually included early sun, a few rain showers, some brisk wind, a little more sun, perhaps another shower, and a cool evening. And since I found the internet pretty hard to come by, I kept meticulous notes on our journey.

We learned that the word lynching, to mean a hanging, comes from Galway. The story goes that James Lynch Fitz-Stephen was the Mayor of Galway in 1624. His only son, Walter, in a fit of jealous rage, stabbed to death a man he thought was a challenger for the affections of his beloved. When James learned that his own son was a murderer, and despite the fact that the town was inclined to show mercy, James felt that he had to follow the law and take the life of his son. He nailed a spike to a window on his home, dragged his son to the window, and hanged his son in full view of the townsfolk and his wailing wife. The window stands in the town square, with the spike intact. Thankfully, Walter is long gone.

Leaving Galway behind, we headed toward the Cliffs of Moher. Kevin’s driving skills were on full display here. Driving that coach up the winding and twisting narrow lanes to the cliffs is not something I will forget. And because only one vehicle can proceed forward at a time, Kevin’s balls of steel paid off as he forced car after car to back up into small pull-off areas. Although I guess it would be difficult to challenge the bus (er, coach). It was one of those roads where one side is a sheer wall of rock and the other a sheer drop, although there was a small dry rock wall on that side, which probably would have served to make the coach roll faster into the abyss. Anyway, we made it.

The Cliffs of Moher are stunning. We were lucky to be there on a clear, cool day and could see for miles. The highest point is 214 meters and it’s a good walk to get to the top. In the distance, we could see the Aran Islands, but alas, we couldn’t see the puffins, which make their nests in the rocks. We were told we needed field glasses, but some of our fellow travelers had them and couldn’t spot them either. The Cliffs are a popular tourist destination and there were numerous tourist coaches, but the area is so huge that we didn’t feel crowded. We were told that one has to schedule times to visit, but this is because the visitor center is so small, so if you decide to go make sure you schedule your time. After spending so much time on the coach, it felt good to get out and walk. We had dinner in the hotel that evening, and headed out early the next day.

Our path now takes us southward on the west coast of Ireland. This is the Ireland of movies, of travelogues. The greens of the landscape are almost fluorescent, the sky an impossible blue (if you luck into a perfect day, and we did). The peninsulas that make up Ireland’s west coast are incredible. Gorgeous seascapes, small villages, green fields dotted with sheep and cows, distant mountains turning shades of blue as clouds pass across. No matter which side of the coach we were on there were views everywhere and it was hard to know where to point our cameras. We passed through the village of Lisdoonvarna, where singles flock annually to the matchmaking festival, hoping to meet that special someone. Then through Tralee, where the annual international Rose of Tralee Festival chooses a young woman as an ambassador for Ireland the following year. Not a beauty pageant, the Rose of Tralee is selected on the basis of personality, aspiration, social responsibility and Irish heritage. The town of Adair showed us many houses with thatched roofs, and we learned those roofs have to be removed and replaced every 25 years as small animals and vermin tend to nest in them. (I’d want it done sooner than every 25, myself). And of course, Bob found a car he loved there. We learned that in Ireland, there is a competition called the Tiny Town Competition and based on the description, must be the worst condo association ever, as anyone who doesn’t keep their home and yard in pristine shape thereby risking the town losing the honor is ostracized. We stopped in the Dingle Peninsula, in which Gaelic is the primary language and the road signs are first in Gaelic, then in English. It is a seagoing town, and is famous for its fish and chips and ice cream. Bob and I were not impressed by our lunch of fish and chips although we may simply have chosen the wrong pub, but the ice cream was superb.

That evening, we went to the Gaelic Roots show in County Kerry. Our dinner that night was on our own, and we teamed up with a couple on our tour, who were dying for some Italian food at this point. We were all getting a little tired of the sameness of the Irish offerings, so we stopped a local on the streets of Killarney and got walking directions to a local Italian restaurant. This turned out to be a dubious choice. We did observe that several tables ordered pizza and that looked good—thin crust, lots of gooey cheese. But we opted for more traditional Italian fare and found our meals to be suspiciously like tomato soup poured over various meats and overcooked pastas. Stick with the Irish choices in Killarney. The Gaelic Roots show at the Killarney Avenue Hotel though, was outstanding. The show has consistently received the Certificate of Excellence from Trip Advisor and uses music, dance and storytelling to showcase the culture of the Gaelic people. The cast were very talented, and like so many shows we attended, it was clear that Covid had been detrimental to the talent in shows like this. They were grateful for the audience and performed their hearts out for us.

The next day saw us on the road to the Blarney Castle, in County Cork. This was another fairly long drive and Maria entertained us by playing Eddie The Eagle on the coach entertainment system. Bob and I had seen this movie, which is the biographical story of Michael Edwards, a British skier who in 1988 became the first competitor to represent Great Britain in Olympic ski jumping since 1928. It stars Taron Egerton and Hugh Jackman, and is a great ‘coming from behind’ film. The British love it.

A few words about the coach. I have very few criticisms of this tour. It was certainly jam packed and covered a lot of ground, but I chose it for the itinerary and the comprehensive reach over England, Scotland and Ireland in particular. The hotels were comfortable, clean, and the stops were well placed and interesting. Maria and Kevin were fun companions and made each day fun and full of information. But the coach itself could have been better for sure. The wifi was poor to completely absent, there were no charging stations at the seats--only a few in the front for Maria and Kevin. The seats were packed very close together, and using the recline option put your head in the lap of the person behind you. I certainly think they could have provided a better vehicle, and will make that comment after the tour ends.

The Blarney Castle was built over 600 years ago by Cormac MacCarthy, one of Irelands greatest chieftains. At the top of the tower sits the Blarney Stone of Eloquence, and legend has it that if you kiss the stone, you will never be lost for words. But there is more to see here than just that Stone. The castle is pretty impressive. It sits on an eight-meter cliff of rock, which formed the quarry for building the castle. The grounds are beautiful, typical Irish green and filled with trees and flowers. There are ghosts galore, the most unusual being a herd of enchanted cows that appear during times of impending danger. Fortunately, we didn’t see them. There are numerous gardens, but my favorite was the Poison Garden, filled with dangerous, toxic plants, some in cages. The Seven Sisters legend tells of the King of Munster, who was once the ruler of the lands here. He had seven daughters and two sons. His rival, also a powerful clan chief picked a battle, as they were so often to do, so the King rode out with his two sons. Sadly, while the King won the battle, his two sons died, so while returning home past nine druid stones, the Kings had his men turn over two of the stones to symbolize the loss of his sons. The daughters stand there, near the Castle, even today. As to the Blarney Stone, for over 200 years, world statesmen, literary giants and stars of stage and screen have joined millions climbing the stairs to get the gift of eloquence. It used to be that people had to be held by the ankles and lowered over the edge to kiss the stone. It’s safer today, with an iron mesh rail and sturdy guards to prevent falls. Still, it’s a rigorous climb on a narrow staircase. Legend has it that it is a kind of ‘sorting hat’ for kings, and that a witch saved from drowning revealed its power. Bob made the climb, so try him out for his gift of gab. I have all the gab I need so I wandered through the gardens instead. They do wipe off the stone between kisses in a nod to Covid.

Once back on the coach we passed through Youghol, Ireland, where Sir Walter Raleigh grew the first Irish potato, or so goes the legend. Moby Dick was filmed in part here, and Florence Newton, the Witch of Youghol, was tried here. The records of whether she was convicted or not have been lost. Way to go, Witch. We ended the day in Waterford, which is the oldest city in Ireland, and the home of famed Waterford Crystal. The coach had a stop planned there, but neither Bob nor I had much interest in that, and I was pretty sure I would just knock something expensive off a display, so we rode the coach back to the hotel. Our optional event that evening was an exploration of the Waterford waterfront with a local expert, and he was fantastic, really bringing alive the stories and lore of the area. Waterford is characterized by the Viking Triangle, called that because of the 1,000-year-old Viking walls surrounding the area. One can find Viking longships, sculptures and various artifacts in this section of the city and our guide knew just where to lead us. We finished the tour in a local pub, where I had my last draft of Irish-made Guinness, and we found a restaurant for a quick meal, then off to bed. Tomorrow, we catch the ferry back to Wales and have to go at 6 am, so we were both ready for some shuteye.

Craic (pronounced crack) is the Irish term for news, gossip, fun, entertainment and enjoyable conversation. Ireland was wonderful, and definitely delivered on the craic. We will be sorry to leave this beautiful country, but of course, Maria has another Hidden Treasure (Whoo Hoo!) for us tomorrow, and we have so much more to see.