Tag: Clifden

Today we celebrated our 39th wedding anniversary with a kiss atop Diamond Hill in the Connemara National Park. We asked a French woman to take our picture and everyone tsked-tsked us to stop kissing. After climbing up 400 meters (over 1300 ft) in blustery 60 to 80 mph winds, we were happy to embrace and commemorate our special day. (To see how windy it was, click on the link and notice how the umbrella flies at 90 degrees from my body. 2013-08-02-Clifden 038.)

As we climb, the wind was very strong and cold. My nose was dripping and before I could pull out a hankie, the wind blew the snot right off the mountain. At times, it was all I could do to stay where I was, waiting for the wind to die down a bit before taking the next step.

At the summit, we were rewarded with a break in the wind, a bit of sunshine, and fantastic views. We could see Kylemore Abbey, which was built as a wedding gift and is now a tourist attraction and abbey for Benedictine nuns. Dennis and I exchanged platinum rings as wedding gifts; he did not build me a castle, though I have often claimed to be Queen of Blanchardom.

On our loop walk, we spotted the Connemara ponies, known for their athleticism, versatility and good disposition, and a donkey. Since it was so windy, we did not see any of the Connemara carnivorous plants. As we sat at the summit eating a banana, I did see a yellow jacket…how it managed to fly in that wind is a wonder.

We returned to the Vaughan B & B in Clifden, had a celebratory meal and bottle of wine, and retired early. Tomorrow is a travel day; we will make our way to Belfast.

Weather predictions for today were for 100% rain; for this reason, we did not leave Clifden. We donned our rain gear and took our umbrellas to hike a 6K loop around the city. The mountains were fogged in and we did not see the Twelve Bens, a mountain range that provides a wonderful backdrop to the town.

“Why  do people like them so much? Palms had to be the ugliest trees ever. ” Forbidden Fire by Kimberly Kinrade.

I never associated Palm trees with Ireland but the Gulf Stream moderates the climate, making it mild enough for them to grow throughout the island. In southern Ireland, it’s rarely very warm, but it’s also almost never very cold either, so they thrive.

On our walking tour we saw the gateway to The Clifden Castle, originally built in 1818 by John D’Arcy, the founder of Clifden. During the potato famine, the D’Arcy family could not collect rent from the starving tenants, and the manor went into disrepair. Now the castle is privately owned.

Clifden sits on the Atlantic Ocean. The two churches in town make for a picturesque panorama of the quay, where one can see lobster traps on the docks and sailboats on the water. I am sure sunshine enhances this town’s charm. Luckily the inclement weather did not stop us from appreciating its beauty and, by limiting the tourism in town, it made it easier for us to get into bars and restaurants.

Upon returning from our hour-long walk, Dennis went “foraging” for a sweet to go with his tea. Deciding which of these treats to choose was not easy for him. Mindful of his health, he tried to select the most healthy dessert (if there is such a thing.) Which would you have  chosen?

Breakfast at the Bayberry House B & B was the best we have had in the past three months. The sideboard was filled with fruit, compote, yogurts, nuts, cheeses, cereals, homemade granola, and juice. The owner made a creamy porridge served with warm fruit compote of apples and mixed berries—the combination of flavors tantalized the palate. The breadbasket overflowed with white and whole-grain toast, soda bread, and toasted hot-crossed buns; all accompanied with dishes of marmalade and raspberry jam. In addition, if we wanted, she would have cooked a traditional-Irish breakfast.

Fortified, we left in a downpour to catch a bus to Clifden, the largest city in Connemara. On the way visibility was low. We passed lakes and mountains whose tops were enshrouded in clouds. We saw peat set out for drying, but becoming rain-drenched. Today’s plans for hiking no longer seem accomplishable. Since the weather will be noncompliant as well tomorrow, we booked a room (left) in the Vaughans Pub, Bistro, and Accommodations, one of the city’s oldest building, for three days; tomorrow will be a working day. Hopefully, on Friday we will be able to explore the area.

In the evening,we went to several pubs to listen to the Irish music, have dinner, and relax. Dennis so enjoyed the singer, Pat Coyne, that he bought his CD. The second bar promised a band at 8-ish, but they were just setting up at 9 P.M when we left. The best music was at the last place we visited. As I looked at the older patrons (mostly tourists) who were singing traditional music, clapping to the rhythm, and obviously enjoying themselves, I tried to visualize them as younger pub-goers. Sometimes people retain their younger facial characteristics; other times they change completely.

In one bar, we were treated to a Sean-nós dance (Irish broom dance) by an award-winning performer who is also the bartender. I imagine if done improperly, the dancer could lose the family jewels as he quickly jumps over the broomstick while dancing.