I'm not sure if there's any point to me writing because I don't know if anybody even reads this. Whatever, though, at least I'll have it all for myself in the future.
Today Bonnie and I returned from 6 wonderful days in Spain... if I ever get up to date with this thing, I'll be able to write about that in detail. But we had a great time. I also bought "Deathly Hallows" in a crazily crowded bookstore in Madrid at 1:01 AM and, well, yeah. Wow. :) More on that later, hopefully.
Anyway, back to that first weekend in Dublin. On Saturday we went to an outdoor market in the trendy Temple Bar area and ogled fresh, organic fruits and vegetables and lots of delicious cheeses breads and such. We bought some chives and spinach, and I also bought a book at the book market down the street. I think that the rest of the day was free, so we didn't really do too much else besides walk around the city. On Sunday, we all went to a the hurling semifinal! That was really cool. We got to see a Gaelic football game before the match started, which was interesting. Hurling was not *too* difficult to follow if you didn't try to focus on the rules. There's a sort of field-hocked type stick and a tiny little ball and players can carry it but have to bounce it after five steps or something, and it's really quite violent; we saw more than a few guys beating their fallen opponents over the head with their sticks. I personally was rooting for Wexford, but Kilkenny won - booo. Actually, they pretty much crushed Wexford and moved on to the finals, which will be held in September, I think.
On Monday we had class and two guest lectures, one on Irish history (a whole lotta history packed into an hour and a half!) and one on the Irish langauge and Culture. Both were really informative, but I loved the stuff about Irish, as you might expect. The lecturer himself was also really great; he allowed his lecture to change based on our interests and was very flexible, which we all really appreciated. Later on that night we went to Trinity to listen to some traditional Irish music, which was great. The players were mostly Trinity profs who've known each other and played together for years, and one of them got up and did a sort of traditional dance on the tables. They took turns talking about all of their instruments and the sort of evolution of traditional Irish music.
After classes on Tuesday we visited Kilmainham Jail, a rather infamous place. Many of Dublin's most well-known political prisoners were kept in Kilmainham, and quite a few were executed outside its doors. There was a really neat exhibition type thing set up with information, and then we watched an audiovisual (surprise, surprise) and were given a tour. The place was pretty depressing, for the most part, except for the newer, Victorian wing that had been designed to let in more light than the darker, older, stone cells. It was kind of depressing to learn that at some points in time, people would break the law simply to get *into* the jail because they knew they'd at least have food and shelter there. When living in super crowded conditions in a cold, damp, hard cell is better than being a free person, things have reached a rather dire point.
Wednesday included more classes and the second half of the guest lectures, which were, again, very informative. We learned some simple phrases in Irish and now I have a desire to go to a gaeltacht (an area were Irish is spoken fluently and is pretty nearly the first language) and learn it. Failing that, maybe I'll try to teach myself. Anyway, that night we went to a poetry reading where 10 poets from the latest edition of an anthology read some of their work. I hadn't heard of any of them, but it was nice to have a break from Joyce. Ho hum.
We were supposed to go the Joyce center after class on Thursday, but Connie realized how burnt out everyone was and decided to make that expedition optional. Needless to say, we were all verrry thankful about that.
Friday 27 July 2007
Tuesday 17 July 2007
Playing Catch-up (Part VI)
This morning I overslept (thanks to a rather misleading dream where I was up and getting ready for class) and didn't have time to eat or shower before class, and then after class Bonnie's and my attempts to print some important information about our flights to Spain was foiled by the idiotic library's computers here, which won't let us log into our Carleton emails, and now it's pouring out and we have to leave soon for a Yeats exhibit at the National Library that will, I'm sure, be absolutely thrilling. In other words it's a bad day. So I'm just going to write some more here instead of doing anything productive.
Okay, so on our first Tuesday in Dublin we were introduced to our "Ulysses" professor, Declan Kiberd. He is one of the foremost "Ulysses" scholars in Ireland, if not the world; he edited and wrote the introduction to our Penguin edition of the text and is generally renowned amongst Joyce scholars for his knowledge of the book. Needless to say, we were all both excited and terrified of meeting him. But Declan is a charismatic, modest, and accomodating teacher, and he's nowhere near as intimidating as I'd expected. He really listens to whatever his students have to say and is equally interested in both learning from us and teaching us. On the other hand, since he's read the book 35+ times (no easy feat; it's over 900 pages and its accessability is questionable at best), he has a whole lot of his own theories and beliefs that are sort of difficult to grasp for us first-time readers. But it's still a great class, even if the book is a monster to get through. During our time in Dublin, we have his class on Tuesdays & Thursdays and Connie's class on Mondays and Wednesdays. I'm not really going to mention them from now on, but I promise - we are doing work here!
On Tuesday evening, we all went on the Dublin Literary Pub Crawl. Basically, this involves two actors leading a group of tourists to about 4 pubs throughout Dublin while periodically stopping to re-enacts scenes from works by Irish writers. It was enjoyable, but not as enjoyable as you might expect. I don't really know what to say about it.
On Wednesday, most of us attended a talk given by none other than Declan himself at the National Library, which is holding a "birthday celebration" in honour of Yeats. Declan spoke about "W.B. Yeats and the Celtic Tradition," and it was interesting to hear him speaking in depth about someone other than Joyce. That half of our class couldn't get in because the room was just packed to its fullest is a testament to his status among the literati here in Dublin; he's a big name and draws a big crowd.
Afterwards, we all headed to the Peacock Theatre (a more independent offshoot of the Abbey Theatre) to attend a performance of "Terminus," a brand new play written and directed by Mark O'Rowe, an Irish playwright. None of us knew what to expect, but we certainly didn't know what we were getting ourselves into. There were only three actors, and they all had one spot on the stage in which they remained throughout the duration of the play. They had about 3 or 4 monologues each - all incredibly depressing/tragic/shocking - and their stories all connected at the end. There was serial killing, suicide, a flying demon... it was kind of insane. The actors were pretty amazing, however, so I suppose it was a decent experience.
Thursday involved a visit to Sandycove, a beachy area just a little out of Dublin city. We visited the Jocye Museum, which is housed in Martello Tower, where the first chapter in "Ulysses" is set. It had an impressive view of the sea (bay?) from the top and also had a collection of various types of Joyce memorabilia, from books to letters to his guitar. So that was pretty neat.
On Friday, we had an all-day trip that took us out of County Dublin. This was one of the best day trips, even if it was tiring. Our guide, Danielle, was an archaeologist from Trinity, so she really knew what she was talking about when she took us to a variety of amazing sites. We first visited Tara, seat of the ancient high kings of - okay, I want to say Gondor here but I won't - Ireland. This is worth a Wikipedia read-up if you don't know about it. The audiovisual presentation here showed us lots of pretty aerial views of the large hills that were build up in ring shapes, which was helpful because when we were walking through the sheep poop strewn grass, it was difficult to tell exactly where we were. Tara is one of Ireland's most important historical sites, even if it doesn't look like much today. In the past there wer lots of incredibly important rituals that Ireland's kings had to perform at Tara to prove that they were worthy and ready to lead. Today there's a big controversy over a proposed plan to build a road through Tara; there are lots of activist groups who advocate diverting the road and saving Tara, while others feel that it's just an old hill and that progress is high king nowadays. Personally, I side with the former group.
Anyway, after Tara we visited Loughcrew Cairns. After clambering up yet another hill, we were able to enter into a passage grave. They were once used as burial chambers, and from the outside look like hobbit holes, built right into a hill. The entrances are lined with rocks engraved with various Celtic symbols, and inside, the main passage is arranged into a kind of rough cross shape. All the arms of the cross, and all of the passage in general, is comprised of these stones decorated with more engravings. On one particular day of the year - most likely a solstice or equinox; I can't remember which - a beam of sunlight follows a direct path into the cairn and illuminates a carving of the sun. As it moves it follows a particular line of engravings until it finally vanishes from sight... very Raiders of the Lost Ark, minus the treasure. This was an amazing place.
Next we headed to the town of Kells, which was built around another monastic settlement and where the Book of Kells was once kept. It has a round tower and a beautiful old church with some of the most well-known and intricately carved Celtic crosses; Danielle showed us what lots of the engravings meant. The 10th century (I think?) house of St. Columba, who is speculated to have worked on the Book and eventually started a monastic settlement on Iona in Scotland, is also here. The house (it might've been a church once as well) is completely made of stone, including the steeply pitched roof. It might've had a second story, but the wood has long since rotted away. However, after the keeper of the keys, a little old lady who narrated a history of the building, let us in, we were able to climb a rather tall ladder up into the "attic," where monks might've spent their time as they worked on their manuscripts. It was dusty and cramped and dark and we had to crawl for a bit before there was room to stand, but it was amazing and kind of surreal to see.
We also visited Trim Castle, where, interestingly enough, most of "Braveheart" was filmed. This castle could've been built for defense, but Danielle was more of the opinion that it was used for psychological purposes - landholders build it to assert their authority and power over the poor peasants. Makes sense to me. The castle itself wasn't what you'd typically expect to see; it wasn't all lofty towers and creeping vines... it was more angular and compact and kind of ugly, to be honest. Still, it was worth a look.
Okay, so on our first Tuesday in Dublin we were introduced to our "Ulysses" professor, Declan Kiberd. He is one of the foremost "Ulysses" scholars in Ireland, if not the world; he edited and wrote the introduction to our Penguin edition of the text and is generally renowned amongst Joyce scholars for his knowledge of the book. Needless to say, we were all both excited and terrified of meeting him. But Declan is a charismatic, modest, and accomodating teacher, and he's nowhere near as intimidating as I'd expected. He really listens to whatever his students have to say and is equally interested in both learning from us and teaching us. On the other hand, since he's read the book 35+ times (no easy feat; it's over 900 pages and its accessability is questionable at best), he has a whole lot of his own theories and beliefs that are sort of difficult to grasp for us first-time readers. But it's still a great class, even if the book is a monster to get through. During our time in Dublin, we have his class on Tuesdays & Thursdays and Connie's class on Mondays and Wednesdays. I'm not really going to mention them from now on, but I promise - we are doing work here!
On Tuesday evening, we all went on the Dublin Literary Pub Crawl. Basically, this involves two actors leading a group of tourists to about 4 pubs throughout Dublin while periodically stopping to re-enacts scenes from works by Irish writers. It was enjoyable, but not as enjoyable as you might expect. I don't really know what to say about it.
On Wednesday, most of us attended a talk given by none other than Declan himself at the National Library, which is holding a "birthday celebration" in honour of Yeats. Declan spoke about "W.B. Yeats and the Celtic Tradition," and it was interesting to hear him speaking in depth about someone other than Joyce. That half of our class couldn't get in because the room was just packed to its fullest is a testament to his status among the literati here in Dublin; he's a big name and draws a big crowd.
Afterwards, we all headed to the Peacock Theatre (a more independent offshoot of the Abbey Theatre) to attend a performance of "Terminus," a brand new play written and directed by Mark O'Rowe, an Irish playwright. None of us knew what to expect, but we certainly didn't know what we were getting ourselves into. There were only three actors, and they all had one spot on the stage in which they remained throughout the duration of the play. They had about 3 or 4 monologues each - all incredibly depressing/tragic/shocking - and their stories all connected at the end. There was serial killing, suicide, a flying demon... it was kind of insane. The actors were pretty amazing, however, so I suppose it was a decent experience.
Thursday involved a visit to Sandycove, a beachy area just a little out of Dublin city. We visited the Jocye Museum, which is housed in Martello Tower, where the first chapter in "Ulysses" is set. It had an impressive view of the sea (bay?) from the top and also had a collection of various types of Joyce memorabilia, from books to letters to his guitar. So that was pretty neat.
On Friday, we had an all-day trip that took us out of County Dublin. This was one of the best day trips, even if it was tiring. Our guide, Danielle, was an archaeologist from Trinity, so she really knew what she was talking about when she took us to a variety of amazing sites. We first visited Tara, seat of the ancient high kings of - okay, I want to say Gondor here but I won't - Ireland. This is worth a Wikipedia read-up if you don't know about it. The audiovisual presentation here showed us lots of pretty aerial views of the large hills that were build up in ring shapes, which was helpful because when we were walking through the sheep poop strewn grass, it was difficult to tell exactly where we were. Tara is one of Ireland's most important historical sites, even if it doesn't look like much today. In the past there wer lots of incredibly important rituals that Ireland's kings had to perform at Tara to prove that they were worthy and ready to lead. Today there's a big controversy over a proposed plan to build a road through Tara; there are lots of activist groups who advocate diverting the road and saving Tara, while others feel that it's just an old hill and that progress is high king nowadays. Personally, I side with the former group.
Anyway, after Tara we visited Loughcrew Cairns. After clambering up yet another hill, we were able to enter into a passage grave. They were once used as burial chambers, and from the outside look like hobbit holes, built right into a hill. The entrances are lined with rocks engraved with various Celtic symbols, and inside, the main passage is arranged into a kind of rough cross shape. All the arms of the cross, and all of the passage in general, is comprised of these stones decorated with more engravings. On one particular day of the year - most likely a solstice or equinox; I can't remember which - a beam of sunlight follows a direct path into the cairn and illuminates a carving of the sun. As it moves it follows a particular line of engravings until it finally vanishes from sight... very Raiders of the Lost Ark, minus the treasure. This was an amazing place.
Next we headed to the town of Kells, which was built around another monastic settlement and where the Book of Kells was once kept. It has a round tower and a beautiful old church with some of the most well-known and intricately carved Celtic crosses; Danielle showed us what lots of the engravings meant. The 10th century (I think?) house of St. Columba, who is speculated to have worked on the Book and eventually started a monastic settlement on Iona in Scotland, is also here. The house (it might've been a church once as well) is completely made of stone, including the steeply pitched roof. It might've had a second story, but the wood has long since rotted away. However, after the keeper of the keys, a little old lady who narrated a history of the building, let us in, we were able to climb a rather tall ladder up into the "attic," where monks might've spent their time as they worked on their manuscripts. It was dusty and cramped and dark and we had to crawl for a bit before there was room to stand, but it was amazing and kind of surreal to see.
We also visited Trim Castle, where, interestingly enough, most of "Braveheart" was filmed. This castle could've been built for defense, but Danielle was more of the opinion that it was used for psychological purposes - landholders build it to assert their authority and power over the poor peasants. Makes sense to me. The castle itself wasn't what you'd typically expect to see; it wasn't all lofty towers and creeping vines... it was more angular and compact and kind of ugly, to be honest. Still, it was worth a look.
Playing Catch-up (Part V)
Okay, time to do another marathon catch-up post. I'd also like to mention, lest you think that my first week in Ireland was all day trips and mountain climbing, we did have class three times, alternating between our apartments. And we watched this really emotionally powerful (sounds corny, I know) movie called "The Wind that Shakes the Barley." Like everything else in Ireland, it was tragic. Ho hum
Anyway, I left off in Galway. On Sunday we packed up and left there, heading for Dublin! En route, we stopped at Conmacnoise, yet another early Christian monastic settlement founded by St. Ciaran in the 6th century. This one had a number of ruined churches and abbeys and some pretty amazing Celtic crosses and another round tower, but I couldn't quite enjoy it fully because I was in a bit of a grumpy mood; I was a bit tired of being on coaches and having lots of stops. The "audiovisual presentation" at Clonmacnoise brightened up my day a bit. These AV presentations can be found at nearly every site we visit; they're basically videos about the place. This one was hilarious because it used these ridiculous cartoon-type illustrations of monks in its treatment of the history of the place. Everyone was cracking up; it was definitely the high point to my day. Anyway, after that we headed straight to Dublin and arrived in the early evening at University College Dublin, which was (and is) our home sweet home in dear dirty Dublin (sorry, that's the Joyce getting to me - it's really not so dirty these days, thankfully.) We were met at Roebuck Hall by our Dublin liaison, Seona, who runs USIT, a student travel organization here in Dublin. She was responsible for organizing all the seminars and day trips we attended during our stay in Dublin and was really helpful. As we all were issued key cards to Roebuck, we stared at the obviously very new building in apprehension - we didn't know what to expect. We were all surprised for the better when we discovered that our flats are, in a word, amazing. UCD's campus houses many new buildings, and our apartments are less than a year old. We live in 6-person apartments with a shared kitchen/lounge but individual single rooms with, get this, individual bathrooms! No Carleton dorm can boast that amenity. Although the dorms really lack character, for a month-long stay, I'm not complaining. They feel mostly clean and have really big windows, which are really nice at night because you don't have to turn the lights on until at least 10:00.
Anyway, that was our arrival to Dublin. We bought some food at the (highly overpriced) Centra grocery store on campus and ate dinner, noting with sadness our lack of an oven. We were all pretty tired and went to bed fairly early.
The next morning, we had class with Connie and then departed UCD for an "introductory tour of Dublin" that was really much too fast-paced. I think our first stop was at Trinity College, the traditionally Protestant university (UCD is Catholic), to see... the Book of Kells! If you hadn't figured it out, that's where my blog gets its name. If you don't know what the Book of Kells is, Wikipedia it. :) The exhibit leading up to the actual book was really impressive; it was a big collection of information and pictures about similar documents/books that have been found, along with information about how they were made and the history of the Book of Kells and its connection to Iona and whatnot. Finally, we progressed into a darkly lit room with a glass case in the middle, featuring the Book of Kells, obviously open to one page only, and two others, the books of Armagh and... maybe Durrow? There are four other books which are shown on alternating days. I have wanted to see the Book of Kells for quiiite a long time, and it didn't fail to impress me. The illumations were beautiful, and it was really amazing to see "in person." Then we passed into the famed Trinity Library; you've probably seen pictures of this absolutely beautiful old library at some point. It's got spiral staircases and high, high bookcases and is amazing. The bibliophile's dream room was kind of marred because there was a display featuring WWII propaganda currently there, but it was still gorgeous and made me wish I had a legitimate research project that would gain me access to the books themselves. :)
Afterwards, we visited Dublin Castle, which is a weird mix of old castle and new buildings; it has been used as a government building for centuries and was kind of the embodiment of British colonial rule in Ireland for quite a long time. We were given a tour, complete with a foreign tourist who videotaped literally the ENTIRE THING, which was weird, and then we were led underground into a really quite old Viking "defence bank" and tower, which was discovered when some group was doing roadwork or something a while back.
Then we headed to St. Patrick's Cathedral, but were thwarted by a visiting choir group from Germany or something, so we couldn't stay for too long. We poked around and saw Swift's tomb, but didn't really get to see too much, which was kind of disappointing. Then our tour guide wanted to take us somewhere else, but we had a "reception dinner" to get to, so our whirlwind tour ended a the Purty Kitchen, a trendy, swanky bar/restaurant in Temple Bar, the artsy, funky, but also kind of commercialized portion of Dublin. We had been expecting a full-out dinner, and were disappointed to learn we'd only be receving appetizers. However, the plates of appetizers just kept on coming and the wine flowed freely and we all ended up with full stomachs, so we were appeased. Plus we got to mingle with Jim and his wife Jane for the last time, which was really nice.
I ended the night with a lovely ramble through the city with Esther, Bonnie, Liza, Sherry, and Kate. We explored a bit and began the process of acquainting ourselves with the strange, haphazard arrangement of twisty streets whose names change completely arbitrarily at random points. Then we got our initiation into the Dublin City Bus system as we took the 10 bus home. Throughout the past few weeks, the 10 bus has been our connection to the city, and it has served us well - except when we're forced to wait nearly an hour for a late one or have just missed it or have had to watch it fly by down the road without stopping even though we were CLEARLY waiting for it - and we love it. Haha.
Okay, whoa. Enough for now.
Anyway, I left off in Galway. On Sunday we packed up and left there, heading for Dublin! En route, we stopped at Conmacnoise, yet another early Christian monastic settlement founded by St. Ciaran in the 6th century. This one had a number of ruined churches and abbeys and some pretty amazing Celtic crosses and another round tower, but I couldn't quite enjoy it fully because I was in a bit of a grumpy mood; I was a bit tired of being on coaches and having lots of stops. The "audiovisual presentation" at Clonmacnoise brightened up my day a bit. These AV presentations can be found at nearly every site we visit; they're basically videos about the place. This one was hilarious because it used these ridiculous cartoon-type illustrations of monks in its treatment of the history of the place. Everyone was cracking up; it was definitely the high point to my day. Anyway, after that we headed straight to Dublin and arrived in the early evening at University College Dublin, which was (and is) our home sweet home in dear dirty Dublin (sorry, that's the Joyce getting to me - it's really not so dirty these days, thankfully.) We were met at Roebuck Hall by our Dublin liaison, Seona, who runs USIT, a student travel organization here in Dublin. She was responsible for organizing all the seminars and day trips we attended during our stay in Dublin and was really helpful. As we all were issued key cards to Roebuck, we stared at the obviously very new building in apprehension - we didn't know what to expect. We were all surprised for the better when we discovered that our flats are, in a word, amazing. UCD's campus houses many new buildings, and our apartments are less than a year old. We live in 6-person apartments with a shared kitchen/lounge but individual single rooms with, get this, individual bathrooms! No Carleton dorm can boast that amenity. Although the dorms really lack character, for a month-long stay, I'm not complaining. They feel mostly clean and have really big windows, which are really nice at night because you don't have to turn the lights on until at least 10:00.
Anyway, that was our arrival to Dublin. We bought some food at the (highly overpriced) Centra grocery store on campus and ate dinner, noting with sadness our lack of an oven. We were all pretty tired and went to bed fairly early.
The next morning, we had class with Connie and then departed UCD for an "introductory tour of Dublin" that was really much too fast-paced. I think our first stop was at Trinity College, the traditionally Protestant university (UCD is Catholic), to see... the Book of Kells! If you hadn't figured it out, that's where my blog gets its name. If you don't know what the Book of Kells is, Wikipedia it. :) The exhibit leading up to the actual book was really impressive; it was a big collection of information and pictures about similar documents/books that have been found, along with information about how they were made and the history of the Book of Kells and its connection to Iona and whatnot. Finally, we progressed into a darkly lit room with a glass case in the middle, featuring the Book of Kells, obviously open to one page only, and two others, the books of Armagh and... maybe Durrow? There are four other books which are shown on alternating days. I have wanted to see the Book of Kells for quiiite a long time, and it didn't fail to impress me. The illumations were beautiful, and it was really amazing to see "in person." Then we passed into the famed Trinity Library; you've probably seen pictures of this absolutely beautiful old library at some point. It's got spiral staircases and high, high bookcases and is amazing. The bibliophile's dream room was kind of marred because there was a display featuring WWII propaganda currently there, but it was still gorgeous and made me wish I had a legitimate research project that would gain me access to the books themselves. :)
Afterwards, we visited Dublin Castle, which is a weird mix of old castle and new buildings; it has been used as a government building for centuries and was kind of the embodiment of British colonial rule in Ireland for quite a long time. We were given a tour, complete with a foreign tourist who videotaped literally the ENTIRE THING, which was weird, and then we were led underground into a really quite old Viking "defence bank" and tower, which was discovered when some group was doing roadwork or something a while back.
Then we headed to St. Patrick's Cathedral, but were thwarted by a visiting choir group from Germany or something, so we couldn't stay for too long. We poked around and saw Swift's tomb, but didn't really get to see too much, which was kind of disappointing. Then our tour guide wanted to take us somewhere else, but we had a "reception dinner" to get to, so our whirlwind tour ended a the Purty Kitchen, a trendy, swanky bar/restaurant in Temple Bar, the artsy, funky, but also kind of commercialized portion of Dublin. We had been expecting a full-out dinner, and were disappointed to learn we'd only be receving appetizers. However, the plates of appetizers just kept on coming and the wine flowed freely and we all ended up with full stomachs, so we were appeased. Plus we got to mingle with Jim and his wife Jane for the last time, which was really nice.
I ended the night with a lovely ramble through the city with Esther, Bonnie, Liza, Sherry, and Kate. We explored a bit and began the process of acquainting ourselves with the strange, haphazard arrangement of twisty streets whose names change completely arbitrarily at random points. Then we got our initiation into the Dublin City Bus system as we took the 10 bus home. Throughout the past few weeks, the 10 bus has been our connection to the city, and it has served us well - except when we're forced to wait nearly an hour for a late one or have just missed it or have had to watch it fly by down the road without stopping even though we were CLEARLY waiting for it - and we love it. Haha.
Okay, whoa. Enough for now.
Sunday 8 July 2007
Playing Catch-up (Part IV)
Okay guys, I'm going to try to zip right through this entry, because I've been writing way too much and at this rate I'll never get caught up! So here goes my best attempt at not being wordy...!
On Wednesday, we visited Westport, the biggest town by Louisburgh. It reminded Bonnie and I of Newport; it had the same sort of shops and such. We'd been there once before (although I can't remember when, haha), so we were familiar with the layout and just meandered around for a bit. Then we all walked to Westport House, the big manor-type house that preceded the growth of Westport (the town.) After visiting Hennigan's Heritage Center a few days before, the difference was striking. This house was along the lines of the mansions in Newport, although not quite as huge. The rooms and ground were impressive, but it was also kind of strange and disconcerting to see it billed as a "family fun adventure park" in the brochure and to find carnival-type mirrors in the basement and strange wooden cut-out monsters in the old dungeon. Apparently there was a need for funding for the house at one point, and turning it into a strange mix of history and (rather lame) theme park was going to solve the problem. Um, okay. That was it for Wednesday, I think. Oh, that night Bonnie and I walked back to the beach and she submerged herself even though the water was really cold!
Thursday was our free day. We were supposed to have an optional trip to another beach a way up the coast, but ultimately we decided not to go because there were some very threatening stormclouds hanging in the sky and the van-taxi driver had a feeling that it would end up pouring on us right when we reached the beach. Mostly we hung around all day, although Bonnie, Esther and I also walked into town and explored a bit. The clouds had passed and it was beautiful and sunny and nearly warm for a while, but then we noticed that although one side of the sky was blue and pretty, the other was amassing another army of clouds, so we hightailed it home just in time to beat the rain. Score. That night I walked down to the beach around sunset and took some pictures of the absolutely sublime sunset. The colours were amazing.
On Friday, we said goodbye to County Mayo and headed to the Aran Islands, more specifically, Inis Mor, the largest island. We drove through Connemara on the way there, a gorgeous, green, hilly section of the West. I noticed that the old, roofless, ramshackle stone cottages that dotted the hills and rested beside the roadways in Mayo were absent here; I'm not sure why. In Mayo, they're everywhere, and are all in various states of disrepair - some have trees growing right up through their middles, others have only a couple of walls left, others are covered in vines. I really like how the Irish government just allowed them to remain in the countryside instead of tearing them down. They're not eyesores at all, and I wish I knew more about what they were used for - were they old houses or churches or what? I don't think that they were houses, because they were made of stone and not too many people could afford that. But, anyway, their absence during this drive really struck me. So! We drove by a long dark lake and saw Ireland's one and only fjord (yup.) On the way, Jim, as usual, enthusiastically narrated our drive and told us stories, particularly about the Famine, since this was one of the areas hardest hit by it.
Eventually we reached the ferry landing and hopped a ride over to Inis Mor. Once we reached the island, we were provided with vouchers for renting bicycles. Most tourists either bike around or take a bus tour. The day ended up being really sunny and warm after the clouds dissipated, so we were glad to have the bikes. After grabbing a bite to eat, Esther, Bonnie and I strained and pedaled our way up the hills of Inis Mor to the Dun Arann Lighthouse. We huffed and puffed and stopped to, ahem, "enjoy the scenery," fairly often, but finally we made it and were well-rewarded for our toils. After a ten-minute walk on foot, we reached the lighthouse, decided not to pay to enter, and wandered through the fields instead. Inis Mor is absolutely covered in old, low stone walls, running this way and that and crisscrossing everywhere. I'm not sure what they were originally used for, but there are some stone drinking troughs in various spots so maybe they were animal pens. Eventually we made our way to some circular stone fort-type dealio, with a raised stone circle in the middle. We clambered up and looked around and saw the sea to both sides, fields of green all around, and blue skies above, and we were happy. We didn't bike any further, which may have been a mistake since apparently there's an AMAZING cliff that just drops right off into the sea, as well as an ancient Celtic stone fort and more tiny old churches. But we were tired and wanted to check out the famous Aran sweater shops, so we headed back and did just that.
That evening we reached the port city of Galway, where we stayed for the weekend. We checked into our hostel and then explored the city a bit and ate dinner. Later Liza, Samantha and I found a huge flock (?) of swans and took photos and such before retiring to our room for the evening.
I'll just write a bit about the city a bit now. Our hostel was located in Eyre Square, quite close to the main drag. Galway is nicely sized; it's small and easy to navigate but has a nice city centre with lots of shops and eateries and pubs and such. It's always full of buskers playing various instruments or putting on street acts, and although the shops close quite early, the pubs are open late. Galway is known for its seafood, so there are lots of restaurants that both sell fish and chips and have a fish market attached. I really enjoyed our short stay there, but I think that I would've gotten bored of it if we'd stayed much longer.
Okay, on Saturday morning we went to a really wonderful farmers' market, which had lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, some cheesemongers, fish, hummus, and then jewelry and bags and such in stalls right nearby. There were also hot food stands, including an all-vegetarian one from which Esther and I ordered some sort of Indian food that was quite tasty and also inexpensive.
Afterwards, we all headed out for yet another excursion. This time, we visited Thoor Ballylee, also known as Yeats' Tower. Yeats purchased this literal stone tower and lived in it for a period of time with his English wife, who fitted it up fairly well. Now it's a museum, and we climbed up the stairs and wondered how he could have felt comfortable there and whether it ever got warm inside the tower. It was really neat to see the place that provided inspiration for not a few of his poems, even though I was grumbling about never having a moment to ourselves and always being on the move. Of course, we couldn't have just one excursion in a day, so afterwards we went to Coole Park, the estate on which Lady Gregory lived. Lady Gregory was a contemporary of Yeats; the two of them pretty much began the Irish literary revival in the beginning of the 20th century. She was a translator of ancient Irish myths and was also a rather prolific playwright. Unfortunately, her house at Coole Park fell into disrepair and was destroyed, so we could only really look at an exhibit and the grounds, now called a "nature preserve." One interesting landmark was this really old, huge beech tree, called the Autograph Tree, into which lots of prominent Irish authors carved their names. Afterwards, we mercifully didn't have another stop, so we headed back to Galway. That night, some of us went to a pub with Jim and Connie, because this was one of Jim's last nights with the program before he and his wife headed out to do some of their own traveling. Being the chivalrous older Irish gentleman that he is, Jim bought drinks for all the ladies who went along. :)
That was it for Saturday, I do believe. I'll write soon and in my next entry, we will reach Dublin (where I've been for two weeks now... haha!)
On Wednesday, we visited Westport, the biggest town by Louisburgh. It reminded Bonnie and I of Newport; it had the same sort of shops and such. We'd been there once before (although I can't remember when, haha), so we were familiar with the layout and just meandered around for a bit. Then we all walked to Westport House, the big manor-type house that preceded the growth of Westport (the town.) After visiting Hennigan's Heritage Center a few days before, the difference was striking. This house was along the lines of the mansions in Newport, although not quite as huge. The rooms and ground were impressive, but it was also kind of strange and disconcerting to see it billed as a "family fun adventure park" in the brochure and to find carnival-type mirrors in the basement and strange wooden cut-out monsters in the old dungeon. Apparently there was a need for funding for the house at one point, and turning it into a strange mix of history and (rather lame) theme park was going to solve the problem. Um, okay. That was it for Wednesday, I think. Oh, that night Bonnie and I walked back to the beach and she submerged herself even though the water was really cold!
Thursday was our free day. We were supposed to have an optional trip to another beach a way up the coast, but ultimately we decided not to go because there were some very threatening stormclouds hanging in the sky and the van-taxi driver had a feeling that it would end up pouring on us right when we reached the beach. Mostly we hung around all day, although Bonnie, Esther and I also walked into town and explored a bit. The clouds had passed and it was beautiful and sunny and nearly warm for a while, but then we noticed that although one side of the sky was blue and pretty, the other was amassing another army of clouds, so we hightailed it home just in time to beat the rain. Score. That night I walked down to the beach around sunset and took some pictures of the absolutely sublime sunset. The colours were amazing.
On Friday, we said goodbye to County Mayo and headed to the Aran Islands, more specifically, Inis Mor, the largest island. We drove through Connemara on the way there, a gorgeous, green, hilly section of the West. I noticed that the old, roofless, ramshackle stone cottages that dotted the hills and rested beside the roadways in Mayo were absent here; I'm not sure why. In Mayo, they're everywhere, and are all in various states of disrepair - some have trees growing right up through their middles, others have only a couple of walls left, others are covered in vines. I really like how the Irish government just allowed them to remain in the countryside instead of tearing them down. They're not eyesores at all, and I wish I knew more about what they were used for - were they old houses or churches or what? I don't think that they were houses, because they were made of stone and not too many people could afford that. But, anyway, their absence during this drive really struck me. So! We drove by a long dark lake and saw Ireland's one and only fjord (yup.) On the way, Jim, as usual, enthusiastically narrated our drive and told us stories, particularly about the Famine, since this was one of the areas hardest hit by it.
Eventually we reached the ferry landing and hopped a ride over to Inis Mor. Once we reached the island, we were provided with vouchers for renting bicycles. Most tourists either bike around or take a bus tour. The day ended up being really sunny and warm after the clouds dissipated, so we were glad to have the bikes. After grabbing a bite to eat, Esther, Bonnie and I strained and pedaled our way up the hills of Inis Mor to the Dun Arann Lighthouse. We huffed and puffed and stopped to, ahem, "enjoy the scenery," fairly often, but finally we made it and were well-rewarded for our toils. After a ten-minute walk on foot, we reached the lighthouse, decided not to pay to enter, and wandered through the fields instead. Inis Mor is absolutely covered in old, low stone walls, running this way and that and crisscrossing everywhere. I'm not sure what they were originally used for, but there are some stone drinking troughs in various spots so maybe they were animal pens. Eventually we made our way to some circular stone fort-type dealio, with a raised stone circle in the middle. We clambered up and looked around and saw the sea to both sides, fields of green all around, and blue skies above, and we were happy. We didn't bike any further, which may have been a mistake since apparently there's an AMAZING cliff that just drops right off into the sea, as well as an ancient Celtic stone fort and more tiny old churches. But we were tired and wanted to check out the famous Aran sweater shops, so we headed back and did just that.
That evening we reached the port city of Galway, where we stayed for the weekend. We checked into our hostel and then explored the city a bit and ate dinner. Later Liza, Samantha and I found a huge flock (?) of swans and took photos and such before retiring to our room for the evening.
I'll just write a bit about the city a bit now. Our hostel was located in Eyre Square, quite close to the main drag. Galway is nicely sized; it's small and easy to navigate but has a nice city centre with lots of shops and eateries and pubs and such. It's always full of buskers playing various instruments or putting on street acts, and although the shops close quite early, the pubs are open late. Galway is known for its seafood, so there are lots of restaurants that both sell fish and chips and have a fish market attached. I really enjoyed our short stay there, but I think that I would've gotten bored of it if we'd stayed much longer.
Okay, on Saturday morning we went to a really wonderful farmers' market, which had lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, some cheesemongers, fish, hummus, and then jewelry and bags and such in stalls right nearby. There were also hot food stands, including an all-vegetarian one from which Esther and I ordered some sort of Indian food that was quite tasty and also inexpensive.
Afterwards, we all headed out for yet another excursion. This time, we visited Thoor Ballylee, also known as Yeats' Tower. Yeats purchased this literal stone tower and lived in it for a period of time with his English wife, who fitted it up fairly well. Now it's a museum, and we climbed up the stairs and wondered how he could have felt comfortable there and whether it ever got warm inside the tower. It was really neat to see the place that provided inspiration for not a few of his poems, even though I was grumbling about never having a moment to ourselves and always being on the move. Of course, we couldn't have just one excursion in a day, so afterwards we went to Coole Park, the estate on which Lady Gregory lived. Lady Gregory was a contemporary of Yeats; the two of them pretty much began the Irish literary revival in the beginning of the 20th century. She was a translator of ancient Irish myths and was also a rather prolific playwright. Unfortunately, her house at Coole Park fell into disrepair and was destroyed, so we could only really look at an exhibit and the grounds, now called a "nature preserve." One interesting landmark was this really old, huge beech tree, called the Autograph Tree, into which lots of prominent Irish authors carved their names. Afterwards, we mercifully didn't have another stop, so we headed back to Galway. That night, some of us went to a pub with Jim and Connie, because this was one of Jim's last nights with the program before he and his wife headed out to do some of their own traveling. Being the chivalrous older Irish gentleman that he is, Jim bought drinks for all the ladies who went along. :)
That was it for Saturday, I do believe. I'll write soon and in my next entry, we will reach Dublin (where I've been for two weeks now... haha!)
Thursday 5 July 2007
Catch-up (Part III)
Class was held in our cottage the next morning. All twenty students crowded into our living room, and Connie presided by the fireplace. I should explain that our cottages were probably more spacious than what you might imagine them to be. Upstairs was a triple with a bathroom (shower/toilet) attached, and downstairs housed a living room/dining room, which connected to the other bedrooms via a very small kitchen. There were two doubles on the ground floor as well as another bathroom, this one with a toilet and a bathtub. Because energy in Europe is not cheap, Europeans are much more energy conscious than we are – each outlet can be turned on and off, so that even when something’s plugged into it, it can be turned off to stop the electrical current from flowing and being wasted. Our cottage’s heat and hot water had to be turned on individually, and because the shower’s water was either scalding or freezing, many of us resorted to taking actual baths, which was quite a change for me.
Anyway, back to class. We all crowded into our living room and discussed the first three stories of “Dubliners” for two hours. I don’t think I really want to talk about that, and I’m sure nobody wants to hear about it. If you’re really interested in James Joyce’s theory of paralysis in early twentieth-century Dublin as demonstrated through these short stories, feel free to email me. I’m not expecting anything, however.
After class, Connie decided that since the weather was not overtly rainy and didn’t seem too threatening, it might be a nice day to climb Croagh Patrick, the mountain from which St. Patrick was said to have banished all the snakes from Ireland. Mind you, Connie did not climb it herself on this particular day, nor was it explained to us that although this is a popular pilgrimage site, it is a fully functional mountain and climbing it was not going to be a simple stroll up a pretty green hill.
When we were dropped off at the mountain (we were taxied there by Connie and by a big red van-taxi that seated 14), we were warned to turn back if it started raining, as the rocks might be slippery. Little did we know, early on in our climb, how very true that warning was.
I don’t know if I can properly convey the experience that was Croagh Patrick. We had no idea what we were getting into, and throughout the climb we kept wondering just how high the mountain was and how much longer we had to go. The peak, you see, was obscured by a stormy cloud, so our confusion was justified.
Basically, the Croagh Patrick climb was misery itself, but it was the rewarding kind of misery that makes for an experience you’ll never ever forget. I’m going to quote from the email I sent to my friends wherein I described the climb: “The climb started out fairly innocuously, with greenery and sheep and prettiness. But soon we were laboring up a mountainside in quickly-increasing mist and rain and rapidly decreasing temperatures. We had no idea how far it was to the peak but Esther, Bonnie and I refused to give up. When we finally made it after about two hours, including a harrowing 30 minute scramble over rocks in vision-obscuring rain towards the end, it was so damn foggy and cold and wet that we could not even seen the allegedly beautiful view from the top. Then we had to go down.”
Hopefully that gets the picture across. The way down was much better, even though I couldn’t see for the first third of it. But my legs weren’t burning and I wasn’t forced to stop every ten minutes “to enjoy the scenery” (read: give my poor, out-of-shape muscles a break), so I was willing to trade in my vision for that luxury. Once we made it down the hill, nobody was around to bring us back, so a big group of us stood around, sopping wet and freezing, while we waited for the taxi-van to return. Needless to say, we didn’t do too much that evening, and I slept more soundly that night than I have ever done in recent years… no lie. Oh, and I ought to add that I was REALLY GLAD that Mom and I had found and purchased my windbreaker before I left, because that baby saved me from a whole lot of misery. I would've been completely soaked through if I hadn't been wearing it.
On Tuesday, I forgot my camera, so my memories of that day are a bit foggy as I don’t have any visual aid to prompt it. We had another full day, with three stops. The first was Aghagower, which was basically another graveyard and round tower combination, although this round tower wasn’t nearly as impressive as the one at Meelick. We could go inside this one because it had an entrance at ground level, but it was also missing its top half. Aghagower also housed the ruins of an old stone abbey, which was fairly picturesque, as those sorts of things usually tend to be.
Next we went to Ballintubber Abbey, built by King Cathal O’Conor sometime during the 13th century. The Abbey has been used on and off ever since then, and is still in really beautiful shape after undergoing a restoration not too long ago. We were also given a tour of the grounds, which included some strange things, including this little hobbit-hole like place with a representation of Jesus’ birth and the story of the robin who burned his breast while trying to keep the baby Jesus warm. I enjoyed this stop because although it was yet another church and graveyard, it had a unique personality and history.
Finally, we visited Knock, where Our Lady, Saint Joseph, and Saint John the Evangelist appeared to a group of peasants in the late 1800s. The site quickly became a hot spot for pilgrimages, and Pope John Paul II even graced the Shrine with his presence in 1979. Although it had a good story, the whole place seems to have become rather commercialized, and I found a lot of the stores really tacky. I think it’s sad when such a meaningful religious experience is overshadowed by rampant commercialism in such a tasteless way.
In summation: Tuesday = churches and graveyards and commercialism, oh my!
Anyway, back to class. We all crowded into our living room and discussed the first three stories of “Dubliners” for two hours. I don’t think I really want to talk about that, and I’m sure nobody wants to hear about it. If you’re really interested in James Joyce’s theory of paralysis in early twentieth-century Dublin as demonstrated through these short stories, feel free to email me. I’m not expecting anything, however.
After class, Connie decided that since the weather was not overtly rainy and didn’t seem too threatening, it might be a nice day to climb Croagh Patrick, the mountain from which St. Patrick was said to have banished all the snakes from Ireland. Mind you, Connie did not climb it herself on this particular day, nor was it explained to us that although this is a popular pilgrimage site, it is a fully functional mountain and climbing it was not going to be a simple stroll up a pretty green hill.
When we were dropped off at the mountain (we were taxied there by Connie and by a big red van-taxi that seated 14), we were warned to turn back if it started raining, as the rocks might be slippery. Little did we know, early on in our climb, how very true that warning was.
I don’t know if I can properly convey the experience that was Croagh Patrick. We had no idea what we were getting into, and throughout the climb we kept wondering just how high the mountain was and how much longer we had to go. The peak, you see, was obscured by a stormy cloud, so our confusion was justified.
Basically, the Croagh Patrick climb was misery itself, but it was the rewarding kind of misery that makes for an experience you’ll never ever forget. I’m going to quote from the email I sent to my friends wherein I described the climb: “The climb started out fairly innocuously, with greenery and sheep and prettiness. But soon we were laboring up a mountainside in quickly-increasing mist and rain and rapidly decreasing temperatures. We had no idea how far it was to the peak but Esther, Bonnie and I refused to give up. When we finally made it after about two hours, including a harrowing 30 minute scramble over rocks in vision-obscuring rain towards the end, it was so damn foggy and cold and wet that we could not even seen the allegedly beautiful view from the top. Then we had to go down.”
Hopefully that gets the picture across. The way down was much better, even though I couldn’t see for the first third of it. But my legs weren’t burning and I wasn’t forced to stop every ten minutes “to enjoy the scenery” (read: give my poor, out-of-shape muscles a break), so I was willing to trade in my vision for that luxury. Once we made it down the hill, nobody was around to bring us back, so a big group of us stood around, sopping wet and freezing, while we waited for the taxi-van to return. Needless to say, we didn’t do too much that evening, and I slept more soundly that night than I have ever done in recent years… no lie. Oh, and I ought to add that I was REALLY GLAD that Mom and I had found and purchased my windbreaker before I left, because that baby saved me from a whole lot of misery. I would've been completely soaked through if I hadn't been wearing it.
On Tuesday, I forgot my camera, so my memories of that day are a bit foggy as I don’t have any visual aid to prompt it. We had another full day, with three stops. The first was Aghagower, which was basically another graveyard and round tower combination, although this round tower wasn’t nearly as impressive as the one at Meelick. We could go inside this one because it had an entrance at ground level, but it was also missing its top half. Aghagower also housed the ruins of an old stone abbey, which was fairly picturesque, as those sorts of things usually tend to be.
Next we went to Ballintubber Abbey, built by King Cathal O’Conor sometime during the 13th century. The Abbey has been used on and off ever since then, and is still in really beautiful shape after undergoing a restoration not too long ago. We were also given a tour of the grounds, which included some strange things, including this little hobbit-hole like place with a representation of Jesus’ birth and the story of the robin who burned his breast while trying to keep the baby Jesus warm. I enjoyed this stop because although it was yet another church and graveyard, it had a unique personality and history.
Finally, we visited Knock, where Our Lady, Saint Joseph, and Saint John the Evangelist appeared to a group of peasants in the late 1800s. The site quickly became a hot spot for pilgrimages, and Pope John Paul II even graced the Shrine with his presence in 1979. Although it had a good story, the whole place seems to have become rather commercialized, and I found a lot of the stores really tacky. I think it’s sad when such a meaningful religious experience is overshadowed by rampant commercialism in such a tasteless way.
In summation: Tuesday = churches and graveyards and commercialism, oh my!
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