While we were in Ireland...

My husband's family drove all the way from Oklahoma to treat our kids to a week at the beach while we were in Ireland.  Since they live so far away, they have made it a tradition to take our kids for a week of intense grandparent/grandchild bonding, and we parents are NOT invited.  So we decided to make the most of that child free week this year by sneaking off to Ireland while the grands had our kids.

Thankfully, we did get to see them briefly before our flight.  They spent a night with us and helped me cope with one of the worst back aches I have had in years.  I'm so thankful I married into a family of doctors considering my back pain history.  And it was a bonus that I got to see my chiropractor an hour before our departure flight.

While they were here, we had a mini family jam session.

Then the kids were off for a full week of beach fun.  Our niece flew out from Oklahoma to meet them at the beach for a few days, so getting to spend some time with their oldest cousin before she headed off to college was an extra special treat for our children.

Just as our daughter had lost a tooth while at the beach with Grandma and Grandpa a few years ago, our son also lost a tooth that week at the beach.  And apparently the tooth fairy pays more money for teeth lost at the beach than for teeth lost at home.  Thanks to my husband's parents for notifying the tooth fairy in our absence.

Unfortunately, we just happened to schedule this week of travel the same week that tropical storm Andrea blew through, so they had some windy, rainy days at the beach.  They joked that they must have brought Oklahoma's tornadoes with them all the way to the eastern coast.

 

They dropped our kids off with my parents and enjoyed a meal and some fellowship together before driving all the way back home.  At least they got to enjoy some of our state's beautiful landscapes during their long drive.

Ireland (Part 6): So this lady walks into a bar....

Our last full day in Ireland appealed to the engineer buried in me and confirmed my resolve to never live in large metropolitan city.  It was a beautiful day for lots of driving.  My husband had become a pro at driving on the left side of the road by then, so I suggested that I should drive home from the airport when we return to the states lest he attempt to drive on the left side there too.  We initially drove from Cork County in the southern part of Ireland to Waterford City located not too far from the eastern coast.

At the mall in Waterford City we toured the original House of Waterford Crystal. Touring manufacturing factories in Japan at the age of 17 as a naive student ambassador is what sparked the idea in my mind to become an engineer.  It was so fascinating for me to see how various Nissan cars or Konica cameras were made that I decided I wanted to work in a field that allowed me to make new products.  Since then I have worked in plants that manufactured phone switches, home networking systems, Bounty paper towels, Charmin toilet paper, tire molds, Uniroyal tires, Michelin tires, and even gigantic tires for earth mover equipment.  I have toured factories that produce BMW roadsters, GE jet engines, Converse tennis shoes, maxi-pads, fossil fuel energy, wine & spirits, and so much more.  I have seen intensive manual labor and full scale automation.  I have enjoyed all these tours, and touring the Waterford Crystal plant was no exception.  I was surprised, however, to learn how much of their production is still all hand crafted.  They have an automated etching machine, but it is only used for about 5% of their production and only in cases where the 3D engravings are too detailed and too finite for human hands.

9/11 memorial , apprentice bowl showing every possible crystal cut or design, marking table

Top row:  Waterford crystal champagne flute that is taller than me, Detailed harp - the instrument of Ireland, American BCS football trophyBottom row: Butterfly gift, 1st Waterford design, William Maddock clock encased in 45 custom panels and 250 buttons in custom Waterford crystal

Heat to 1500 degrees Celsius, shape before mold, place in mold, blow air to form hollow center, strictly controlled cool in furnace, sand, mark, etch with diamond cutters, wash, polish

Automated etching machine, smash pit, industrial diamond head cutters, pieces requiring industrial cutter, marking table, 2D horse before 3D cutting, queue for sanding, mold for Irish Open golf trophy

I was not nearly as impressed with the Guinness factory tour.  Perhaps that was because of the enormous cost and efforts exerted to get there.  We had already tried to find the factory once on our first day in Ireland.  That attempt required five hours of driving, getting lost many times in downtown Dublin, asking directions from pedestrians and other drivers at stoplights, all at a cost of about $15/gallon, enduring rush-hour traffic, and several near misses that could have been quite tragic only to get there right after the doors had closed for the day.  This time we parked the rental car at the hotel for an exorbitant parking fee, got directions from the hotel staff, and tried to walk.  Fearing we would once again get there too late, we tried to use public transportation which was also ridiculously expensive and equally as time consuming, but it at least provided some interesting people watching.  Dublin isn't that different from New York City in terms of hectic pace, diversity, odors, crowds, and crazy cost of living.  I did manage to capture the attention of some cute kids on the tram who made me miss our kids in a way that really had me longing for home.  Our trip was nearing it's end, and I was ready to be home with my family.

I had to laugh at the pic of Obama on the bar window because all of his many scandals proving him to be a compulsive liar were being exposed at that time, and apparently the Irish think a little Guinness will get our POTUS to finally tell the truth.

After taking the tram, we still felt lost and ended up following some American college students into the Guinness Storehouse.  I think these young guys thought we were also college students which would have totally made my day, but they had probably had a few too many drinks that day.

I expected a manufacturing tour, but it was more of a history museum showing the initial process and equipment used to start the business.  It seemed most of the people there were only interested in the free pint given to patrons at the Gravity Bar at the top of the building.  I at least got a cute pic of my husband "posing" for a Guinness ad and enjoyed looking at old manufacturing equipment, although I would have loved to see how they make it now.  I guess that's a trade secret.

We took a pass on the free pint at the GRAVITY Bar and chose instead to fully take in all the excellent views of the city.

Day 7 in Ireland began so early it was about the time of day that I usually go to bed.  We had a very early flight to catch and busy Dublin traffic to conquer.  My husband received urgent calls from his office, so he worked all the way home.  We had some close calls, and the airport in NY was as congested as always, but we got home smoothly and met my super supportive parents and our excited children for dinner.  We were jet lagged and exhausted, but there was no time for sleep because we had to move out of our house, find a place to live, figure out where to send our kids to school, and do some serious purging and packing.  When our flight landed near the end of June 11, summer had essentially ended for us.  We made our memories, had our fun, and were now ready to embrace some major life changes.

Ireland (Part 5): Cork City & Cobh Harbour

During our fifth full day in Ireland, we drove to the south coast of County Cork, Ireland to learn more about our Irish heritage at the port city, Cobh, where approximately 80% of Ireland's emigrants departed seeking hope and survival in other nations during the potato famine.  The city was initially named "Cove" in 1750 with the port called "The Cove of Cork".  In 1850 the city name was changed to Queenstown signifying a visit by Queen Victoria.  In 1920, the city name changed to Cobh, a Gaelic form of "Cork", by the authorities of the Irish Free State.

Cobh Coat of Arms

 We visited the Story Heritage Centre, Titanic Experience, and Cobh Museum. The town hasn't changed much since RMS Titanic departed from Cork Harbour in 1912.  The streets, landscape, and piers all look approximately the same.  Queenstown was the Titanic's last stop before it sank.  The Titanic Experience gave detailed explanations and visual representations of the ship's construction, conditions on the ship, and the tragedy itself.  The museum listed the many diverse passengers who boarded the ship and named those who changed ships at the last minute such as the Biltmore family.  Letters to loved ones from passengers who died were displayed including one letter found inside a glass bottle.

At the Cobh History Museum, we saw the same replica of the Servia used in one of my favorite movies set in Ireland, Far and Away.  Period singers kept as entertained at the old depot.  We even got to see a hugely popular annual event, the ocean to city boat race, at Cobh Harbour during our visit.

The Cobh Museum provided a real life view of the daily struggles in Ireland during the potato famine and reminded us how important it is to diversify our investments.  The Irish peasants were so dependent upon one strain of potato crop that when a year's crop became diseased, a majority of residents either died of starvation or emigrated elsewhere.

This port also played an important role when the RMS Luisitania (a British ocean liner launched by Cunard Line in 1907 which was the world's largest ship for a brief time and served as a major player in North Atlantic trade) was torpedoed by a German U-boat and sunk causing many deaths. The port at Queenstown was the Luisitania's last stop before the tragedy and the nearest port to assist in rescue efforts.  Queenstown Hotel was converted into an emergency hospital.  A letter written by one of the few survivors who was treated at the hospital is featured at the Cobh Museum.

Further up the harbor sits Blackrock Castle Observatory.  We stopped there early that morning hoping to take a look into space through the telescope at the top of the castle, but the tour hours were very limited, and the next tour wasn't until mid-afternoon.

So we drove back again after our history tours and checked out the interesting family entertainments.  It was like a mini carnival with science experiments, clowns, face painting, etc.  We tried to enjoy an over-priced lunch (eating out in Ireland run between 20 and 100 USD per person) in the castle courtyard while waiting for a very long time for the next tour.  Then we were highly disappointed to learn that the observatory was closed since the telescope was in need of repairs, so we could only tour a few rooms in the lower levels of the castle.

The observatory did at least have a few hands-on science exhibits where we supposedly sent a message to space in a universal language incorporating mathematics, biology, astronomy, and other fields of universal science.  Most of the science center was full of bogus, impossible, millions of years type theories presented as if they were proven fact while completely ignoring the enormous amount of real evidence to disprove the millions of years theory, evolution and the entire big bang conspiracy theory invented by those looking for way to justify their "I am my own god and accountable to no one" worldview preference. I guess the push to discredit absolute truth is strong around the world, even in predominately Catholic areas like Ireland.  At least the tour guide, Kate, was amusing and is clearly destined for a career in theater, comedy, or both.

Kate informed us that Cobh Harbour is the second largest harbor in the world, the largest being in Australia.  She told us some amusing, partially true stories about the buildings pictured across the harbor which include expensive mansions for sale, an orphanage, a shipping yard, a school, and other details I have already forgotten.   She also told us stories of American icons like Disney who wrecked their yachts along this harbor.

We officially celebrated our 12th anniversary that evening at the Blarney Golf & Spa Resort.  Their dinner menu options were significantly better than their breakfast buffet.  I love the way that man makes me smile.

 

  Here's to the best 12 years of my life!

Ireland (Part 4): Day 4 was a full of blarney!

On the fourth day of our trip, we drove down to Blarney in Cork County.  We stayed at The Blarney Hotel and Golf resort which is only open during the summer tourist season.

 Our first destination in Cork County was Blarney Castle.

Our first order of business was to learn the definition of blarney.  Queen Elizabeth I tasked her emissary, George Carew, with convincing great Irish chieftain Cormac MacCarthy to accept the authority of the English throne instead of clinging to his ancient rights.  Each time Carew tried, MacCarthy would deliver eloquent speeches professing loyalty and flattering the queen, but he would never agree to any of her conditions.  Frustrated, Queen Elizabeth I exclaimed,"This is all blarney.  He never says what he means."

Once Queen Elizabeth had invented this new word, it found its way into literature and eventually became the name of MacCarthy's castle and the city in which it resides.

"Baloney is telling a 50-year-old woman she looks 18.  Blarney is asking a woman how old she is because you want to know at what age women become most beautiful."

 

The legend of the Blarney stone grew out of this story of MacCarthy's eloquent refusal.  A large stone is seated at the top of the castle. Some say the stone was originally Jacob's Pillow, brought to Ireland by the prophet Jeremiah.  There it was said to have provided oracular or prophetic powers to Irish kings. Legends also suggest that it was next moved to Scotland where it served as the Stone of Destiny.  When MacCarthy sent 4000 men to help Robert the Bruce defeat the English in 1314, the stone was supposedly split in half and sent to Blarney.  Folk tales suggest that when a witch was rescued from drowning, she revealed the secret of the stone:

"There is a stone there that whoever kisses, Oh! he never misses to grow eloquent."

What a ridiculous, silly tale, eh?  Yet, if you come to Blarney, you have to kiss the stone, they say.  Well, when I visited Buddhist temples in Japan as a student ambassador and was told that I was supposed to bow to Buddha, I would not dare defy my Lord in such a way no matter how it may have offended my hosts.  So I wasn't so sure about this silly custom.

Yet, we still climbed to the top of the castle and waited in line with all the other tourists, knowing full well that the only one who can tame this fiery tongue of mine is the one true God through His Spirit residing in me.

As we stood in line with the mobs of other dirty, germ covered people from all over the world, all I could think about was how gross it would be to put my mouth on something that had been kissed by thousands..perhaps millions of people.   Actually, I am not that germaphobic, relatively speaking, especially after listening to my husband repeat this theory that the reason our society is so sick is that we are too clean.   Kissing the stone requires hanging upside from the top of the castle tower high above the trees, yet I had hoped that I could be coordinated enough to spread some sanitizer over the portion of the rock where my lips would touch it.  The kind Irish man working at the stone recognized my concerns and then offered to clean the entire thing for me.  Yea!

The Irish infused plenty of humor into the Blarney Castle tour, especially in the signage.  At the entrance of the castle was a hole over a 15 meter deep pit.  A sign suggested that if a guest was not welcome in the castle, when the guest stepped over a certain paving stone over this pit, a guard would pull a catch on the wall causing the stone to turn so that the unwelcome guest dropped into the pit never to be seen again.  They called the pit an "oubliette", which is French for "to forget". More likely, the pit was a granary.

All the castles we toured had these same trapezoid shaped window sills which were ideal for castle defense.  Arrows could be shot out the window without the enemy easily striking the archer.

The gardens and grounds at Blarney Castle were simply breathtaking.  We were reminded of our earlier trip to Biltmore House this past winter and were amazed by the contrast.

 This next collection of photos includes a picture of Blarney City Square.  This big green field in the center of the busy city was so tranquil with families enjoying picnics on blankets or individuals relaxing under the trees with a good book.  We crossed this square to look for something to eat.

My husband and I were having one of those conversations one often has with his/her spouse at meal times after several years of marriage.

He asked, "Where do you want to eat?"
I replied, "I don't know...what would you like?  I want whatever you want." 
He answered, "You know I'll eat anything.  Tell me what you want."
(Repeat ad nauseum)

Then an elderly woman walked right up to us and said, "If you want the best food in Blarney, then you need to eat right there at the Purple Moon*".

*Or some name like that as my memory is failing me now that it's been over three months since our trip.  The restaurant was certainly decorated in lots of purple.  

So that settled the matter and put an end to our banter over where to eat.  Ask and you shall receive, amen?

Then this lady began telling us her ENTIRE.LIFE.STORY.  She was so precious.  She was a widow living meagerly off of her government stipend after spending most of her life cleaning houses for a living. She had such a big heart and gave away as much as she possibly could to anyone in need. She raised several boys and seemed lonely now that they were grown and gone.  She had several health concerns and was going in for tests the next day, so we prayed for her.  She hugged us many times and was absolutely adorable.  The town folk told us she was crazy, but I counted it a great blessing to meet this engaging Irish woman.  She was a woman of strong Catholic faith who despised what alcohol was doing to her country.  The paradox of Ireland being such a devoutly Catholic (south) or Protestant (north) nation, yet having so much of the nation's social life set inside a pub where moderation wasn't necessarily observed struck me, and she was the first one to admit the paradoxical problem.

Outside of the castle curtain wall is planted a poison garden.  This educational garden teaches visitors which plants to avoid, which parts are poisonous, and how they affect the human body. We saw the same plant, foxglove, that my daughter picked out for me for Mother's Day and planted beside our mailbox at our previous house.  Oops!  Thankfully, it's only harmful when eaten.

The most bizarre part of the Blarney estate was Rock Close.  Ireland has mystical Gaelic roots, so while this nation is mostly Catholic/Christian now, this part of the estate points to Irish Gaelic lore.  Inside of a gorgeous taxus baccata tree was a hallowed out cave with something in the corner they called the "witches oven". Above the cave was a mount of roots that looked like a chimney for the witches' oven.  Next to the cave set a rock shaped like the profile of a witch's face, which they fittingly named the Witches' Stone.

I posted this photo of my husband playing Superman with that rock on Facebook.  His mom, who was taking care of our kids for us during our trip, showed the photo to our children, and they immediately believed that their dad was a super hero who secretly goes out every night to save the world.


My favorite part of Rock Close were these awesome climbing trees which served as my hammock.

Ireland (Part 3): James Bond 007 ventures into County Clare

We thought that learning to drive an economy manual rental car on the left side of the road in a foreign country while shifting gears with the left hand during rush hour in Dublin without street signs, a detailed road map, or a GPS unit after not having slept in 2 days was a challenge.  But that first day seemed like a cake walk compared to the third day.   Day three felt like we were living inside of a James Bond film.

Our first stop that day was my favorite destination of the entire trip.  It provided the type of scenery I had only seen in movies and during some European travels during a summer study abroad experience 21 years ago.  We drove to the coast to hike the Cliffs of Moher.  Were it not for the pesky sea gnats that swarmed around us up until we reached the furthest cliff, it would have been a perfectly romantic and glorious way to vacation in Ireland.  I'm not complaining, though.  Cheesy as it was, having musicians play live Celtic music on harps and recorders certainly added that extra touch of Irish ambiance to the hike.

 The underground "strip malls" where souvenirs were sold made me laugh.  It was almost a foreshadowing of where we would be living next.  Our new town of residence has extremely strict ordinances regarding retail store facings to keep the town looking quaint and sophisticated.  The Lowe's Home Improvement store close to our lot where we are building doesn't look like a big box at all.  Each department has it's own entrance with stylish store fronts and awnings to make that big box home improvement store look like a series of boutiques.

 

At one end of the cliffs stands O'Brien's Tower which marks the highest point of the Cliffs of Moher in County Clare, Ireland.  Wikipedia describes the history of this tower better than I could:

"The tower was built on the cliffs in 1835 by local landlord Sir Cornellius O'Brien as an observation tower for the hundreds of Victorian tourists that frequented the cliffs at the time. Another version tells of O'Brien building the tower in order to impress women he was courting. On a clear day the view can extend as far as Loop Head at the southern tip of Clare and beyond to the mountains of Kerry."

After hiking the cliffs, my dear husband had his heart set on seeing Aillwee Cave.  So, we put the address into his phone after finally getting some Ireland maps to download to its GPS, and started driving and driving some more...in circles.  GPS was not much help.  Eventually we ended up on dirt, one-lane roads in the middle of nowhere.  By "nowhere", I mean no street signs, no houses, no gas stations, no people, not even a cow to point us in the right direction.  We were hopelessly lost driving in what seemed to be a gigantic bush maze with no landmarks and no way of knowing where we were enough to even use the sun for navigation.   All this driving was at a gasoline cost of  $15/gallon, and we wondered if we would eventually run out of gas.  After several hours, we finally made our way back to civilization again, but we were much too far from the caves by that point to try again.

We came across yet another castle, so we paid big bucks to tour it, expecting something akin to what we had seen the day before, not realizing at the time that Bunratty Castle was the most complete castle restoration project in Ireland. This castle's entrance fee was a rip-off, but after getting directions to those caves my husband was determined to explore, we wrote off the entrance fees as the price for driving directions.

But those directions were given in the Irish manner, not the detailed instructions we would expect to receive in America.  Our first instruction was to drive "a ways out of town and take the next left".  What exactly is "a ways" and when do you consider yourself "out of town" in towns that are so very rural?  So we traveled what we considered to be "a ways" and took a left.  Then we second guessed ourselves after a few miles and turned back.  Then we tried that road again.

As I mentioned in the first part of this series on Ireland, driving is very dangerous in Ireland with wrecks being a common occurrence.  That's why we had to pay an additional collision waver over and above the cost of the rental car and car insurance and and over the price of the rental car itself just to rent the car.   So, once we were headed in the right direction, we got stuck in a traffic jam due to an auto collision.  Roads are rarely ever more than one or two lanes wide in Ireland, so that one wreck stopped traffic for hours.  We eventually turned around and tried to discover back roads to those illusive caves.  Back roads are very narrow - about as wide as a family sedan.  So, if traffic is coming in the opposite direction, whoever has the smallest car (that would be us) would have to drive backwards along those very wooded, winding, one-land roads with no shoulder until a driveway or intersection came in sight for a turn-off.  Once the larger car passed, then the smaller car would try again.  This process of having to back up for a mile or so occurred several times during our wanderings through those back roads.

Then we got behind a big bus, which was a godsend for at least two reasons.  First, the bus was larger and could pave the way for us.  Secondly, the bus appeared to be carrying tourists, so even if the bus was not headed toward Aillwee Cave, surely it was headed somewhere interesting.  So, we decided to follow the bus, and the bus led us to Aillwee Cave.  We arrived five minutes before the entrance gates closed for the evening.

The grounds for the cave also include a Bird of Prey Center, so while waiting for the next cave tour to begin, we listened in on the end of a demonstration with a peregrine falcon named Lewis, and then we toured the center, learning about all different types of prey birds.

Considering how much time, effort, sweat, toil, tears, blood, risk, and stress went into getting to the caves, it was certain to be a disappointment.  What is worth all that anyway?  The entrance to the cave offered amazing views, though. As one who much prefers wide open spaces to cramped, dark, damp caves, I was content to just hang out at the entrance enjoying the landscape.

My former submariner husband, however, was eager to get inside that cave.   The first thing we saw when we came in were some bear bones followed by a pit that had been used for bear hibernation.  Then we got our fill of stalagmites and stalactites, and I really wished the kids could have been with us since they enjoyed their rock study so much last spring.  That over-exposed cone shaped thing in the middle of my scrapbook page below is a column formed when stalagmites and stalactites meet.

Aillwee Cave is famous for having the largest stalactite in the northern hemisphere.  It was impressive to behold.  But I must confess that what impressed me most in that cave was what happened after they turned off the lights (as they always do in cave tours to show how pitch black dark it is inside).  My predictable, rarely romantic, geeky (in a good way) guy leaned over and stole a kiss in the dark.  I was so startled by this smooth move that I zoned out for the rest of the tour.  It was our anniversary after all, and I still get warm fuzzies with any display of affection from him.