Session and last day in Dublin:

1/15/11 Saturday Addendum:

I had met some young Irish lads and lasses in Galway at the hostel, Tom, Ian, Aaron, Aiofe, and Sarah who were there for a mate’s birthday. They invited me to Tom’s birthday party, or as they call it, a session, in Skerries. I was a bit skeptical about going but decided to chance it. There were about 50 people at this party, with great Irish hospitality. Everyone wanted to talk to the American; I got to dance with some lovely young ladies, and had a generally great time! So this is a big thank you to my mates Ian, Tom and Aaron for making me come, I had an awesome time! The party was pretty evenly divided between girls and boys, and I use that term on purpose, because most of them were about 18 or so. The party broke up about 1:30 and I took a cab back into Dublin.

1/16/11 Sunday:

Today I got up about 9am and after breakfast Elizabeth and I went to see the National Gallery of Ireland. The National Gallery is free, which is an added bonus. The highlight of this museum for me was the exhibition for Joseph Turner, who stipulated in his will that his watercolors could only be displayed in January. The reason for this was because watercolors are very delicate and light sensitive, and January is when the natural light levels are at their lowest. The room in which they are displayed is very dark, and the spotlights are set to only 50 lux.

The watercolors themselves were beautiful. Feathery and light, they looked like multi-hued clouds on paper. The themes were mostly landscape, and Turner captured them in a way that made them jump off the paper and into my imagination. My favorite was Great Yarmouth Harbour, which depicted a lighthouse, mill and dock against the backdrop of a brilliant sunset. But the best part is that it is an impressionist style, something I’m not a huge fan of, but it was done so well, I could not help but be moved by it.

After the Museum we got on the bus again and just talked until the end of the line about many different topics. I really enjoyed seeing my sister again, and hopefully I’ll see her again soon. We have many differences in philosophy and religion, but surprisingly we managed to remain civil, so kudos to her! I can be annoying at times when someone does not agree with me.

I’m sad that my time in Ireland is done, but I look forward to going back to work, seeing my friends again, and going down to the ocean and breathing the salty air. I cannot wait to come back here and see all my new friends again, as well as my friends in France and Australia! You guys made my trip, seriously. Thank you for being awesome people and I look forward to visiting you soon!

From Dublin,

Aeyrie

Touristing in Dublin

Saturday 1/15/11:

Today was tourist day. Elizabeth and I got on a bus that went around to all the major sites in Dublin. We visited quite a few of them. The Book of Kells was our first stop. The Book of Kells is housed in Trinity College. The Book of Kells is the four gospels in Illuminated Text. The monks that wrote this book paid great attention to detail and were given free reign for their artistic expressions. It was started by the monks of Iona who had moved to Kells after a Viking attack in 806. This amazing book came to Dublin in 1653.

After viewing the Book of Kells, we moved on to the Long Hall, which had an exhibition about the 1641 Depositions. The Long Room is the main part of the Library and contains over 200,000 of its oldest books in dark oak bookcases. This dark wood is punctuated by the white busts of various authors. Photography was forbidden in the Long Hall, though I tried, words cannot express the magnificence of this place. Among the works under glass was a book by John Temple called The Irish Rebellion, written in 1646 in reference to the 1641 uprising. It was signed by the author.

Among the collection is the oldest surviving harp. It is made of oak and willow and attributed to Brian Boru, High King of Ireland who died in 1014. This is the harp that appears on Irish coins.

We then went to the National Photographic Archive were they were showing photographs from The Big House in Ireland. The name of the exhibit was called Power and Privilege. The photographs date from 1858-1922, and show various aspects of high society, from otter hunting to horseback riding.

From there our travels took us to the Guinness Storehouse where we learned about Arthur Guinness. I did not know that he took a 9000 year lease on the land where the brewery currently sits. There is a man who believed in his product.

The last stop before walking back to the Hostel was the Old Jameson Distillery. I wanted to register my bottle of Midleton but unfortunately the year 2008 book is in Midleton, Ireland and was unavailable.

Tomorrow, more touristry!

Random observations...

I’m sitting at a coffee shop in Bray, watching people. Coffee shops in Ireland are totally different than in America. Here coffee and tea are a religion, and they seem to pray daily. There is a man sitting alone, with his coffee and paper, over there a group of women gossip loudly. An old couple, probably in their seventies, sit across from me, eating their sandwiches made of sausage and bread while sipping coffee. At another table still sits a mother with her young child. Similar to pubs and hostels, the coffee shop is a meeting place for all.

There are many different kinds of hostels. Some come with breakfast included, some not, though the price is usually reasonable, by Europe’s standards. To me, 4 euro for 2 slices of toast, a bowl of cereal, and coffee, is a bit pricey, but I pay it, because there is nothing else within a 3km walk. Some have hot showers, some are ice cold. Nothing is worse than a cold shower, especially when the room is cold and I can’t seem to get warm. Tepid showers are just as bad. As much as I love meeting new people, my favorite times were when the hostel was empty and I was left with my own thoughts, was able to reflect on where I’d been, what I’d seen. These times are precious in this people filled world, and I was fortunate to have three days of solitude in one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

The food tastes different here. The milk is whole milk, always, and it has an interesting taste, not bad, just different. The Guinness is different as well, though I can’t explain what the difference is. They rarely put condiments on sandwiches. No mustard, mayo, ketchup here, just bread and meat, maybe cheese if you are lucky.

But the biggest difference is the people. Even in the dark economic times, their quick wit, easy smile, and persistently good attitude toward life are infectious. They are never in too much of a hurry for a good conversation, and they enjoy talking to anyone, even Americans. They freely give their opinion and ask for yours in return. And it’s not just the Irish that I’ve noticed this about. Perhaps it’s the land we walk on, but even people from other countries living here seem to come out of their shell.

I met a man, Margo, from Lithuania walking back from my hike yesterday. He was a photographer as well, had been to Glendalough multiple times. Through broken English we had a great conversation regarding cameras, landscape photography, and the best places in Ireland. He seemed quiet and reserved at first, but quickly came out of his shell, even offered me a ride back to the hostel. This would not happen in America, the land where we lower our head, shy away from eye contact, and hurry along about our business.

Does this implicit trust make it safer here? Perhaps. I certainly felt safe, though I did not let my guard down. Perhaps the best way to be safe is to approach people head on and see what and who they are. It’s the Irish way.

Had a long talk with the long lost sister tonight over probably every topic imaginable, and I look forward to more long conversations tomorrow. Good night all!!

Walking in Glendalough Valley

Wednesday 1/12/11 Addendum:

I went down to the hotel to eat dinner, and the waitress serving me, Martina, was very cool and I had a few awesome conversations with her, being that it wasn’t busy. She’s 23, from Slovakia, and is working in the hotel because they want her there that much. She had worked there before and they called her back. She wants to study psychology and live in Brazil. We discussed everything from ghosts to music. Another quality, interesting person that I’ve met on my travels.

Thursday 1/13/11:

I hiked 6 miles today. Climbed over 1500 steps. Total elevation climbed: 500 meters. And the blood sweat and tears were all worth it, took over 350 total shots. The hike started by going up a steep incline next to the Poulanass Waterfall. This stream is the reason this place is called Valley of the two lakes. Over the course of time, the stream deposited slit, cutting the lake in two.

I then started on a boardwalk that led to steps going up a mountain. Over 600 steps later, through thick woods that were dripping with water, I reached the first summit. There is an overlook there from which I can see Upper Lake.

The boardwalk took me along the edge of cliffs overlooking the lake. The views from up here were stunning. The climb continued higher, up two more peaks until starting down into Glenealo Valley. The hike down the mountain was accompanied by the sound of water. There were small streams running down the mountain everywhere I looked.

There are feral goats living in the valley, I can see them off in the distance. They are the descendants of the goats raised for food and milk when miners lived here in the early 1800’s.

As I continued down, the valley’s v shape became obvious. This glacier-carved valley is truly fantastic! The glacier left boulders the size of houses next to the river that runs through the base of the valley into the lake. The path wound through the boulders down to the valley floor where I met some red deer. They seemed quite unafraid of me, and I was able to get quite close, although not as close as I wanted.

I reach the ruins of the miner’s houses, made of stone, roughly dressed and built. The houses are in worse shape than the monastery, walls have fallen in, but they stand still, stark against the cloudy sky. Up on the hillside I can see the remains of their slag piles, like old scars.

I finally reach the hostel, drained and thirsty. I’m off to Dublin tomorrow on the St. Kevin’s bus to meet Elizabeth.

Glendalough

Wednesday 1/12/11:

Ian drove me to Laragh this morning for which I am quite thankful, for there is no bus service from Wicklow, and it’s about 20km, a long walk. From there I walked about 2 km to Glendalough. Glendalough is a monastic settlement started in the early 6^th century by St. Kevin. It was more or less active for over 600 years until being burnt by the Anglo Saxon raiders in 1100 A.D. The name means Valley of the Two Lakes, and it is absolutely beautiful.

I am staying at the youth hostel not 1000 feet from the site itself. I can hear the water over the rocks from my room, and see the round tower from my window. And there is no one here, I am the only patron. This is the stillness I’ve been looking for, in the Wicklow Mountains I’ve found it. Even on my walk around the lower lake today I only saw about a dozen tourists.

I started at the monastic site, and it was quickly easy to see why this was a place of contemplation and meditation. The calmness is catching. There are multiple ruin sites at this place, the most dramatic being the round tower. These are surrounded by graves, some ancient, some modern. I wander among ancient stones, ponder the remains of graves long lost to time. I wonder if at my end will there be anyone to mourn me. When they die, will I be forgotten, like a grave on a hillside as the water and wind slowly eat away at the granite headstone till I’m nothing more than dust and my memory lost in time? I honor these people who have come before me, for without them, I would not exist.

There is nothing like stillness to calm. All I can hear is the sound of running water as is falls off the rocks on the hillsides. It rained earlier today, and about 10 new waterfalls have sprung up out of nowhere as the water finds its lowest elevation. The hillsides are quite steep, and very muddy, and I slipped twice trying to reach the water.

On the return journey to the hostel, I met a wild goat and we traded pleasantries until he decided to try the grass on the other side of the hill. His horns were quite long, so I decided not to follow.

Tomorrow I will do the long hike around the upper lake called Spinic and the Glenealo Valley. Included on this trip is the Poulanass Waterfall, Glenealo Valley, ruins of a mining town, and hopefully a herd of deer.

Cheers.

Travelling from Killarney to Wicklow

Monday 1/10/11 Addendum:

I met Dominic, an Australian engineer, working out of London. He and I have a lot of similar views on things, which we discussed over whiskey and Guinness, while out with the girls. Photocopy biscuits, that will end world hunger!

Tuesday, 1/11/11:

I left the group for Wicklow today. I hate buses, so I took the train though it set me back 60 euro, and I am fortunate to have done so, because I was late getting to Wicklow anyway, and by bus would have been even later.

There are always interesting people on the train. I met a couple Irishmen, Airleas and Ian, two elderly chaps, and they regaled me with tales of their childhood as we winded through the mountains of their youth. Stephen had a few suggestions for my trip, mentioned the Glendalough. I promised to visit it, as it is in Wicklow National Park.

Ian I could barely understand, but he was jovial nonetheless. They both marveled at technology when I pulled out my laptop, and we spent about an hour looking at the photographs I’d taken.

I then took a nap. After getting off the train in Dublin, I got on the tram to get to the other station. I met 2 more Australians headed to Belfast. These two are on an 8 month trek, complete with camping gear. Every time I meet someone doing this I want to do it myself even more. It seems the best way to go about it is to go with someone.

On the train to Wicklow, I met an American, Steven, who is working in Wicklow as an evangelist. He got me up to date on all the football I’ve missed…I can’t believe the Saints got beat by the Seahawks!!! We talked quite a bit about faith and works in reference to James 2:26. That verse seems to be his theme for this mission.

When we got to town, about 7:30, is was quite late and dark, and I had no reservations at any hostel, so Steven took me into town and guided me to the hostel. Captain Halpin’s Bunkhouse is a converted family home, and the family there was quite welcoming, even though I was the only person staying.

After some dinner I went to bed early with no idea on what to do the next day.

Wednesday 1/12/11:

 After my shower this morning, I’ve decided to go to Laragh, a town just outside of the Glendalough. Trish was kind enough to offer to give me a lift.

Day 7

January 10:

Today I drove the Ring of Kerry, a famous circular drive of about 178km, with Maggie, Jess, and Karly. It was quite rainy when we started, but soon cleared to half overcast skies. The first part of the road takes us to a coastal road that meanders through tall cliffs next to the Irish Sea.

We decided to turn off and do the Skellig Ring, a smaller circular drive close to Valencia Island. This drive took us into the mountains, covered with mist and then down to the coast where the sun was breaking through the clouds. We walked on the beach and frolicked with a stray dog for about 20 minutes.

Our next stop was the Cliffs of Kerry, where the mountains fall away into the sea abruptly. Stones knives jut upwards as if stabbing at the sky, but instead of cutting are blunted by the green moss that covers them. In the distance we could see the Skellig Islands. I stopped to help the park owner with his laptop, got it working in about 20 minutes. I should have asked for my entrance fee back!

In Waterville, we stopped for lunch. I had roast beef. We then kept moving toward the East, stopping at the far side of the Killarney National Park. Here we were greeted by the sound of rushing water as it flowed into a calm lake of glass. The reflections on the lake of mountain, clouds, and sky echo still in my mind.

I think, a week in, I’m starting to miss home a bit. The ocean smell reminded me of San Diego and of how much I miss the sun. The sun rarely makes an appearance here; she prefers to remain shrouded in her clouds.

I really have no idea what I’ll be doing tomorrow, but the fab four are splitting, with Jess and Karly moving on to Galway, and Maggie deciding to stay here. I suppose I’ll know what I want later tonight or tomorrow.

I think even more than the beautiful scenery, the people I’ve met on this trip have been not only interesting and classy, but honest, and always have a new and different opinion on things. They have challenged my American way of thinking, and I think it’s for the better. I’ll come home with new ideas and new ways of thinking about things.