Journal - Woman on Her Way

August 1: Clifden

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?

July 31: Clifden

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.

July 30: Galway

Helen, a recent graphic artist graduate and our “free” city tour guide, said that she was not paid for her work but was compensated by “tips” based on what we perceived was the value of the tour. She obviously did her homework, and we learned in a humorous way a lot about the city’s history and points of interest.

On Eyre Square (aka the John F. Kennedy Memorial Park and simply “The Square” by locals) are 14 flags representing the 14 clans or tribes that governed the city in the past. On the walking tour, we visited the courthouse, the cathedral, the old port, the Spanish Arch, the old city, and St. Nicolas church which Cromwell used as a stable to show his contempt of the Catholic Church.

According to legend, the Lynch Window (right) is the origin of “lynching”. During the 15th century, James Lynch was mayor of Galway. His son committed a murder (various stories why/how). James the senior believed that everyone should be treated equally under law, and death was the penalty for murder. Though the younger man’s friends tried to intercede and prevent the hanging, the father placed a rope around his son’s neck and threw him out of the family home’s second-floor window, proving that no one was above the law.

After the tour, we visited the Museum (free) and walked in the old part of the city. Since this is race week, the city was filled with tourists; hardly a seat was free in the cafes and restaurants. The layout of this part of the city has not changed since the city was walled in: the roads are narrow, the buildings are original stone, and even some of the light fixtures are converted gas lamps. Many modernized interiors retain original beams and flooring, making this part of the city very attractive.

In this part of Galway City, there are people playing the harp, penny whistle, or guitar; mimes standing so still they earn the name “living statues”, and a sand sculptor creating this realistic-looking dog.

At the Visitor Office, we researched what to do next. I am becoming a wimp and do not want to hike and camp in the cold rain, which is the prediction for the next few days. We decided to go to Clifden where there are accommodations and many circular walking trips to points of interest. Even if it pours, we can warm up in the shower and dry off overnight. What a princess I’ve become!

For dinner we both had Irish lamb…simply delightful…and a meal anyone visiting this part of Ireland should sample.

July 29: Galway

We arrived in Galway yesterday on the 5 P.M train from Dublin and tried to find our way to the B & B in Salt Hill, an area “just a 5-minutes drive from downtown center.” With lack of street signs and our need to constantly asked for directions, it took us nearly one-and-a-half hours to hoof the 2 miles. After settling in, we went to Salt Hill to walk on the beach, see the sights, and grab some grub. On the way, we purchased a full-day tour to The Cliffs of Moher and the Burren.

At this morning’s breakfast we were treated with a full rainbow, a harbinger of how great our day would be. The rain fortuitously came when we were on the bus or inside a building and the sun came out when we needed it.

The Burren in County Clare boasts a unique limestone landscape. There are rocks everywhere! Our first stop was the Connolly Family Farm, an actual working ranch. Derrick, the guide and nephew of the owner, told us that the land and mountains are owned by the farmers, not by the state as in other countries. The limestone makes for very fertile soil, ideal for cattle grazing. In the past fifty years, a reforestation has increased the amount of trees from 3 to 15 percent, mostly fir. Though the ubiquitous rock walls divide property, the rock walls over the mountains (see picture above) do not; they were built during the potato famine. The purpose of these ‘famine walls’ was to create employment for and provide income to the starving communities at the time of the potato famine. They divide nothing from nothing. Prior to the famine, Ireland had 9 million people. During the famine 2 million died from starvation and its related diseases and 2 million emigrated to other countries. You could hear the emotion in the guide’s voice…it is still difficult for the Irish to think about the famine, knowing that during that time (1845 to 1852) Ireland, then under British rule, exported large amounts of food to the English and their colonies.

In Lisdoonvarna, we saw The Matchmaker Bar. Every year in September and October, there is the Matchmaker Festival, a tradition for hundreds of years when farmers would come to this site to find a wife. If they failed to find a suitable partner, they would return to their fields until the following year. If interested, the festival this year is between 31 August 2013 and 07 October 2013.

The Cliffs of Moher is an “awesome natural spectacle.” The cliffs rise 650 ft above the sea and stretch for five miles. We were fortunate to have a clear day; it is often fogged in. I saw a Peregrine falcon, but not the orange-beaked puffins known to this region. The ride to the cliffs was an adventure and I have a lot of respect for the bus drivers that manipulate the narrow winding roads, competing with cars, trucks, and other buses for the tiny lane.

We stopped for a photo shoot at a 16th century Dunguire Castle. It is now open to the public for medieval banquets. Don’t we look the happy couple?

We returned to Salt Hill and ate at a Russian restaurant, a first for me. We were both delighted with the fare.

July 26: Aberdovey

Glorious day all around. Cloudless deep-blue skies and mild temperatures (mid-60s to start, and then lower 70s) made this the perfect day to explore Aberdovey. As we waited for the bus, a local to Plas Panteidal (where we are staying) offered us a ride into town. I love how helpful people are in Wales. The town is only a five-minute ride away, but the road is so narrow and windy that walking on it is prohibited.

This coastal village is much richer than Tywyn, very upper scale. It has 840 inhabitants, fewer than it had about 150 years ago. A third of the population is retired, and 40% of the homes are holiday rentals or second homes. The shops and restaurants are expensive, as are those in most resort towns. Two pubs and the library have WiFi.(Guess which we picked).

At the pub, I had a tasty carrot and coriander soup with a warm baguette and creamery Welsh butter, so much better than the one at home.

On the pier was an Outward Bound class teaching the students how to jump off the dock. The youngsters wore diving pants and boots since the Atlantic water here is as cold as that at Old Orchard Beach, Maine. This young lady jumped without hesitation, while others needed coaxing and screamed in terror.

After we returned to the cottage, we cleaned and prepared for our departure in the morning, heading to Holyhead to take the ferry to Ireland. I will again be entering a new country.

July 25: Tywyn

Today started off rainy and cool (upper 60s), but ended up glorious. We hoofed the mile to the road, and then waited almost an hour for the bus to Tywyn. (toe-in). This seaside town does not have the charm of Machynlleth, but it did have a few interesting buildings. The Market Hall (left), once known for its great bargains, is a recent construction (1898) and is still used as a market. On the other hand, the Assembly Room (right) is now a movie theater.

St. Cadfan’s Church, originally built of wood, was destroyed during Viking raids, and then rebuilt of stone during the mid 12^th century. In 1692, the tower collapsed, burying the altar and the 13^th century Sanctus Bell, which was recovered in 1811 when the church was fully renovated. Inside the church is the Cadfan Stone; the inscriptions on its four sides are considered some of the oldest written Welsh.

There are two train stations in Tywyn: the commute train, and the Pendre Station, home of the Tal-y-llyn (tal-a-thlin) railway, the world’s first narrow-gauge, steam-engine locomotive; it was designed to carry passengers and slate. This “great little train” is now maintained by steam-engine enthusiasts and is the first railway in the world to be saved and restored for the tourist industry. At one stop, the Cei Tywyn station, a museum houses Britain’s best collection of narrow-gauge artifacts.

Instead of taking this train, we did the Pendre Station Walk, an easy four-mile stroll through the valley. It was quite enjoyable; with the clouds gone and the air warmed to mid 70s, I was able to take off my jacket. This is the weather that Dennis likes–cool and dry, whereas I like it much warmer.

We passed through a “kissing gate”:

We met several anglers along the Afon Dysynni (avvonn duss-unny), but the fish weren’t biting. It was breezy along the river, and a red sailboat glided along on slightly choppy water. We only saw one swimmer, even though it is mid-summer.

There were few walkers along the path. Passing a family of three, I noticed that all were wearing long-sleeves. Since Dennis often kids me about being a chilly-willy, I felt vindicated in that I was sleeveless.

Entering a wood, we came upon signage describing the Ynysymaengwyn (unniss-mine-gwinn) Manor. We asked a local how to pronounce the name. Once it rolled of her tongue, Dennis said “Well, that’s obvious.” We all laughed.

The manor was used by refugees after WWI and as a camp for the Royal Marines during WWII. In 1948, the estate was given to the Tywyn Council. Since it was in disrepair, it was burnt as a exercise for the local fire department, and then flattened by the army.

Most of the buildings are now in ruins. There remains an eight- or 10-foot high wall with several arched entrances. Inside, is a mowed field about the size of an acre with picnic tables strewn about. We did not explore all the pathways and gardens, but we did pass the dovecote, a building for domestic pigeons (see below). Looking at the building makes me wonder how many birds were kept here.

When I was in Spain, I enjoyed Principe Cookies. I have found a new love, a chocolate ginger biscuit by Border. The box describes the cookie as “The perfect balance of crisp crunchy ginger biscuit and devilishly dark chocolate…If our Dark Chocolate Gingers banged your gong, you can vote for them at …” Guess I will do this, once I have WiFi access.

July 24: Machynlleth

We took the local bus into Machynlleth (mack-unth-leth); the bus drivers are skilled in maneuvering the bus on narrow and winding roads, sometimes skimming the bushes as we passed the on-coming vehicles. I think I have been walking too long; riding in a vehicle seems very fast, almost scary.

Welsh names are difficult to pronounce, even for the English. Recently there was a kidnapping and murder in this town, and the newscasters really messed up the pronunciation, so much so that at least three people told me about it.

The clock tower (77 ft.) is the most imposing structure in town. Constructed in 1874, the tower is a relative newcomer to the town that traces its Celtics origins to 500 B.C., and meriting it the title as the historical capital of Wales.

There are prehistoric ruins, remains of an old circular Celtic fort, Roman roads and bridges, and ecclesiastical references dating back to 1201. The language spoken in town is a modernized language of the Celts and is one of Europe’s oldest living languages. On the return bus, Dennis asked a woman sitting beside him if the 3- and 5-year-old children spoke Welsh, and she replied that they spoke it better than she since she was originally from “down south.”

Celtica (right) was erected in 1653, but it has been refurbished several times and is now a historical and interpretive museum of the history of the Celts, and its archives are available to anyone interested in Celtic history and culture.

Wednesday is market day, and vendors set up stalls to sell vegetables, meat, fish, bara brith (spicy fruit loaves), dishes, clothing, hardware—just about everything. There are also many independent shops selling local food, colorful fabrics, and clothes and several cafes and eateries, a few with WiFi. you can enjoy local lamb, tasty Welsh cheese (mostly cheddar), creamy yogurts, and potent beer.

Since there were marketers in front of the parliament building, we took a photo of the backside. This stone edifice was built in the early 1400s to commemorate the site of the Welsh senedd-dy which convened in 1404 to elect Owain Glyndwr, a Welsh hero, as the leader and is the start of an independent Wales. This was 600 years before the current parliament.

The buildings in town demonstrate the town’s long history. Some buildings are a mixture of the old and new (to the right is the terracotta entrance to the smithy, which is now a private home); old stone buildings abut Victorian shops; and a Georgian style hotel and gentry homes make the town very quaint with its rich architectural variety.

Below are pictures of the two main streets. On the right, you are looking down Hael Maengwyn; on the left, you are looking up Hael Penrallt.

July 23: Aberdovey

I am very grateful to our host for the library stocked with regional maps and books. From these, we planned our itineraries and learned about the local folklore. The bird book helped me identify the various species that came to the bird feeder. I spied the Ménétries and Sardinian warblers, jays, finches, and others I could not name. I’ve never been a birdwatcher, but I can now see the appeal.

Dennis worked on his antennas for most of the morning. When pulling the antenna down from a tree, a small portion of wire often breaks off, making it difficult to tune the radio on the desired Amateur Radio band. He measured and cut two wires, one for 20 meters and the other as an all-purpose antenna, including the 40-meter band he likes to operate for making US contacts. After preparing the antennas, he threw the wires into a tree using a water-filled Coke bottle as a weight and then “tuned” the antenna to the radio. Though this might sound boring or too technical for you, Dennis was in his element, enjoying his 50+ year-long hobby.

Tomorrow we will visit the “Wales central metropolis,” Machynlleth (mack-unth-leth), which has had a weekly market on Wednesdays since 1291. We will take a bus there, about 15 miles from Aberdovey.

July 22: Aberdovey

This morning’s rain pattered noisily on the observatory windows. After studying the maps, Dennis was certain that we would find a short cut over the mountain and into town. By noon, the rain cleared, but a haze remained. When Dennis and I went exploring to find this shortcut, we were treated to beautify views of the Dovey estuary. UNESCO has designated this river mouth and valley a “Biosphere Reserve.” It is the only one in Wales and the second in all of the UK. In addition to protecting wild life, the Biosphere preserves diversity of the area’s beauty, the local knowledge, language, and culture.

In the 5^th century, the estuary determined who would be king. Maelgwn Gwnedd gathered the tywyssgion (princes) at the mouth of the river to settle which of them was to be the King of Wales. Each was to bring a throne, and the last one remaining on the throne would be king. When the tide was out, they placed their thrones on the beach and waited for the tide to turn. Everyone had grand thrones made of metal and precious stones except for Maelgwn, whose throne was constructed from goose down held together with wax. As the tide came in, his throne floated and he become king. In this case, ingenuity won out over vanity.

Dennis may have found a shorter path which we will try later this week.

Later that afternoon, we went in search of the Bearded Lake (Llyn Barfog). The lake is nestled in the Snowdonia foothills not far from Aberdovey; the only way there is on foot. In hopes of a swim, we had taken towels but the water was rocky and loaded with lily pads. Though the water was warm, we decided not to go for a dip.

Why is the lake so named? Some say that the water lilies which bloom from June to September give it the appearance of a beard; the romantics say it is named in honor of King Arthur’s foster-father, Barfog, the bearded one; and those who believe in magic and fairies say the name came from a magic cow who provided many gallons of creamery milk. When she got too old to produce milk, the farmer hired a butcher to kill the cow. A little green fairy woman prevented this from happening and then took the cow and her calves into the lake. From then on, the farmer’s luck changed for the worse. I don’t understand how this fairytale ties in with the name of the lake, but that is the legend associated with the lake.

I had looked forward to a week of rest and domesticity, but trying to bake in an unfamiliar oven is challenging. I tried to bake ham slices, but the oven did not get warm enough to cook it and I ended up cooking it in a pan. I hope I will be able to bake the canned chicken and mushroom pie that I bought.

Dennis has not had success in contacting American amateur operators. Tomorrow he will use his own antenna to see if that makes a difference.

July 21: Aberdovey

After a windy, overcast start, the day turned glorious. The “self-catering holiday accommodation” was built approximately 50 years ago; the interior is cedar paneling. It is filled with Celtic items, books, and curios. Our bedroom has an African motif. This is obviously the owners’ hideaway, with many significant mementos; I am thankful that they shared it with us.

We enjoy sitting in the observatory (lanai or sun room). It is so relaxing having a cup of coffee or tea and looking at the landscape or observing the night sky without interference of city lights. I enjoy watching the birds attracted to the feeders and the various neighborhood cats and dogs as they cross the yard.

From the chalet where we are staying, we can see part of the pathway into Aberdovey, the closest village. We decided to walk over the mountain to town to pick up groceries and search for a WiFi connection. The owner left us a sketch of the route to Bearded Lake (2.5 miles away) that indicated the direction to town, but without mileage. The wayposts were either unidentified or written in Welsh, causing us to “guess” which trail to follow. As a result, we did about an extra mile trying paths and then backtracking. After 2.5 hours we arrived in town. There are two pubs that provide Internet access, a much more pleasant location than the library. We plunked down, plugged in the computer, and enjoyed a pint. It can’t get much better than that.

The walk provided beautiful vistas. Here are a few.