Itallian_Chauffer

A BRIEF CORRECTION

The Glengarriff shopping expedition and the 'shrinking road' drive home in the dark was NOT on Day 4. Reviewing my receipts, etc, I see that it was actually the evening of Day 6.

What REALLY happened at the end of Day 4, is that we returned to Kilcrohane, via Durru and Ahakista and drove into the village intent on sampling the fare at one of the pubs, only to discover that (It being the off season) food was not being served. We picked up some munchies at the shop and called it a day.

I REALLY have to start keeping a daily log ... Old Age and dotage seems to be creeping closer.

More to come ...

Bob

IrishEyes

Bob,

Very nice report. How was the food at the Church Restaurant in Skib? Enjoyed the photos of all those sheep and cows.

Itallian_Chauffer

FIRST:
No seals under the bridge.
The food at the Church was EXCELLENT -- not to mention the atmosphere!

This was a LONG day, so I broke it up:

DAY FIVE, Tues. 4 April PART ONE



Another gray morning, that melted, early on, into a sunny, blue sky day. Today we had planned to have lunch with sean and his wife at a resteraunt mid-way between Drimoleague and Bantry that the Tobins had highly recommended, called Willie Pa's (in Colomane (027 50392), but they had called and asked us to come to the house for lunch instead, as they felt going out would be too cumbersome. We had planned to visit the Heritage Center in Skibbereen first, in any event, to do some ancestor research, and then go shopping. We had been mortified, Sunday evening as we had driven away from our first visit, that we had brought NOTHING to our hostess -- particularly after she greeted us so proudly -- justifiably so! -- and welcomed us into her new home. We had allowed extra time today, intent on scouring Skib for a suitable gift. Also, today was Sean's birthday and while we had already given he and his wife gifts, I though it would be appropriate to bring him a small bottle of his preferred brand of whiskey (Powers), to commemorate the day.

Once inside the Heritage Center, we opted for the tour of the mini-museum, that also included a video about the nearby, salt water lake, Lough Hyne. Then, while browsing the typical tourist shop gifts area, we stumbled upon the perfect housewarming gift for our cousin's new 'getaway' home in Drimoleague. There, on the wall above the assorted books and maps, was a solitary framed, numbered print, signed by the artist. We couldn't believe our eyes, at first. Not only was it an image of Castle Donovan (not exactly world famous), but the perspective was from the old Deelish schoolyard! Sean's mother had been the teacher there, and they had, in fact, LIVED across the street in the teacher's house, growing up, effectively, in the very shadow of said Castle. The price was 90 Euro, framed, and 40 Euro, unframed. Buying it was a 'NoBrainer'.

This was to be only our first co-incidence that morning, however, because after we asked to purchase the print, we also inquired about securing records of my wife's ancestors. Skibbereen has a full copy of the 1901 Census, plus one later, as well. We were told that those copies only exist, by accidental, good fortune. Prior Census data was ordered destroyed by the British Government, after they felt that it had become out dated. Most subsequent records were transferred to Cork City, where most were partially or completely destroyed in the fighting there, during the Civil War in the 1920's. By some fluke, Skibbereen's local government had kept copies of 1901 and one other. For any with relatives from the area and THAT time period, it is a significant "bubble" of information. Birth records are a separate matter. Those are the domain (in Skibbereen, at least) of the Records Office at the local hospital. While we were there, at least, we were informed that they can only be attained between 10 and 12:30. As it was almost 12, we realized that our quest for the elusive birth certificate would require a return trip to Skib.

Now, I am an amatuer student of human behavior. I have discovered, in Ireland at least, that there are usually only three or four reactions to the announcement, "We're here in search of our roots. Can you help us?" An alarmingly frequent reaction is The Look -- The, 'God, how am I going to let these people down easy, without crushing their dreams?" You see, it is very DIFFICULT to trace ancestry ANYWHERE in the world, without a good deal of prior information. Have you ever told someone you were going to Ireland and heard them say, "Wow, I/we want to do that! We're Irish, too. My Great-great Grandfather/mother came from somewhere over there. We don't know where, exactly, but they were (O'Brien / O'Reilly / Burkes / Flynns, or whatever )- so it shouldn't be too hard to check out where we came from, right?"

My wife's Grandmother was a Driscoll (They didn't take back the " O' " until after Independance). I once read that if you couldn't throw a rock, anywhere in Baltimore, Skibbereen, or the general area, without it striking an O'Driscoll -- there are that many! The same book said that it would be a BIG mistake, too, by the way -- something about 'provoking a MIGHTY wrath'... Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is, YOU NEED SOME DETAILS, and a LOT of people don't have them. It makes it hard, being the bearer of bad tidings, and dread of that is what causes THE LOOK.

So, we told Margret that we were looking for information about my wife's Grandmother, and I notice The Look. It doesn't get much better when we say that her maiden name was Margret O'Driscoll, we THINK she was born in 1883 (it's what's on her grave marker), but it softens, a bit, when my wife says that her Great-Granfather was named William, and that she was from Drimoleague (SEE--details!). Then, I spoke up, and it REALLY got weird.
"Sehanes," says I. "They lived in the Townland of Sehanes."
Margret gets a REALLY strange look -- whatever the Irish equivilent of, "Shut UP! Get the Hell out! You're s****** me, right?" Then, she looks at us and smiles.
"My cousin is married to Teddy. I was just up there, this last weekend!"
Now, Teddy is the current resident of the family house, in Sehanes. His late father was my father-in-law's first cousin (like Sean, Sean2 and Liam)!
Small world, ain't it?

We had a nice chat about the family after that. Margret told us all about the family, including some DISTANT cousins that we didn't even know about and then we said our goodbyes and headed off with our gift, a detailed copy of the family's listing in the 1901 Census and good directions, to avoid another 'magical exploration' of the hinterlands. This time, I didn't get lost.

More to follow ...

Bob

Itallian_Chauffer

DAY FIVE, Tues. 4 April -- PART TWO
[corrected to show actual itinerary --I REALLY need to start making notes, on the day]


We dropped into a Spar and picked up a freshly baked Rhubarb Tart, the aformentioned bottle of Powers Whiskey and a birthday card for Sean. Then, we headed off to Drimoleague, arriving about 1 PM. All of our gifts were graciously received, but the print of Castle Donovan was greatly appreciated, earning a place of honor over the fireplace in the living room. We retired to the kitchen for a delicious, home-cooked meal and then returned to the living room, to talk and admire the print. Cousin Liam dropped in, both to wish Sean a happy birthday and to speak to us. When he saw the print, he was amazed -- telling us that he had just bought one for his OWN Drimoleague place. Liam has a small, 'hobby farm' up from the village. His upper pasture has a fine view of the Castle Donovan ruins. After a while, Sean and Liam headed off together to move Liam's cows to a fresh pasture. Previous evperience has taught us that neither man handles saying goodbye very well, so neither of us were too suprised. We lingered at the house t, dragging out our parting with Sean's wife and his two eldest daughters (they, of the INFAMOUS 40th birthday parties of 2005 and 2006!)and then rang up cousin Sean2 (Laird of Coomleigh).

By 4 PM, we were negotiating the narrow bohreen up past the Castle and back down, into the valley beyond. We spent two hours, visiting with the OTHER Sean. The visit was vastly improved, over last year's, when he was in Bantry Hospital. He looked and acted very good AND, during our entire visit, he never had a SINGLE cigarette!! Given his penchance for chain smoking I would say he has enacted a major change to his life. He did seem sumwhat subdued, relative to previous years, but then again, he IS still an 82 year old, unrepentant bachelor. He seemed a bit reluctant to see us leave and perhaps a bit disappointed that he hadn't been able to duplicate previous years' entertainments -- like the neighborhood 'kitchen dance' of 2000, or the 'Great Sheep Shearing Debacle' of 2005. Our time there WAS short, but for us, it really is enough, just to sit and talk with him. There is an entire way of life that Ireland is losing, as men like Sean pass from the scene.


We drove back into Bantry and had dinner at the Bantry Bay Hotel's O'Callahan's pub. By now, it was getting dark and I missed the turn off for the Goat's Path and ended up taking the longer route, through Durrus and Ahakista.

!! THERE ARE NO STREETLIGHTS ON THE SHEEP"S HEAD DRIVE !!


It was a tense drive home to the cottage in Kilcrohane. As impossible as it seems, the roads get even narrower in the dark. It may have something to do with heat convection swelling and shrinking the asphalt. All I know is that those 1 1/2 lane roads SEEMED barely wide enough for my little Ford Focus and meeting the occasional vehicle head on was a truely 'white knuckle' experience.

More to come ...

Bob

GreenDragon

Bob, you made me laugh out loud! I have been doing genealogical research on my family for about 20 years now, and know exactly what you are talking about. In order to truly find information, you FIRST need to trace your line back to that immigrant ancestor -- a name and a place just doesn't cut it. Once you know WHICH ancestor immigrated, and from where (and preferably, who their spouse/children/parents were) you are more prepared. That way you can tell WHICH Sean O'Neill from Wicklow it was... from the 54 of them that lived there in the 1850s.

I have several relatives that are listed as being born in Ireland but I've never had the slightest chance of finding anything on them. The most recent (Samuel McDowell) immigrated in 1812, but I have no city of origin (just 'Ireland' as birthplace). I have some from specific cities/parishes, but of very common names (and these are all from the 17th century). I think the most recent ancestor I have that comes from a specific town in Ireland (not just county or country) is Elizabeth Dickenson, b. 1688 Sampel Parish, Cumberland -- most certainly English rather than Irish, IMHO. Records that far back are unlikely to either exist or be legible!

Itallian_Chauffer

DAY SIX -- WEDNESDAY, APRIL 5th

"Congratsulations ... It's a girl!"


(FORGIVE ME, AS I WAX, SENTIMENTAL)


Our original plan was to tour the Beara today, so we started a bit earlier. As I was showering, my wife rushed into the bathroom, slightly agitated. It seems that a woman had walked up the hill, closing off the gates to the cottage next door and then, had closed up OUR gate, as well. Being only SLIGHTLY more of a 'country' person than the Mrs., I suggested that perhaps they were preparing to move some cows into a different field. For some reason, this seemed to intrigue my wife and she grabbed up the camera and rushed outside to see. By the time I was dried and dressed sufficient to join her, the small herd had already been driven past, but the 'gate closing woman' came back up the hill, to announce that she had miscounted. Shortly after she disappeared over the uphill crest, a lone steer ambled down. Once he saw us, he lowered his head sheepishly, looking very much like a large dog that knows he has done something improper. He seemed very much taken with my wife, approaching her repeatedly at the gate and following her along the wall as she moved away. Eventually, he meandered down the hill, but when my wife returned to the gate to see, the steer turned around, came back up to the gate and tried to lean in, seeking either food or a soothing petting, neither of which was forthcoming from us. Eventually, the 'gate woman' returned and all the cows were guided away.
Shortly after, we drove into the village, where we saw the cows again, turning off the road onto a path beneath the bridge, just before the church. After a stop into the shop, we headed off to Skibbereen to check with the records clerk, at the hospital. On th drive in, we decided that making this same drive, coming from Clonakilty on Thursday night, around midnight (after the John Spillane performance) would be entirely too stress inducing. Our solution was to find a place to stay for the night, somewhere near DeBarras, so we decided to visit the Tourist Office in Skibbereen, as well, to see what they could find for us.

The Skibbereen hospital sits in a series of low, modern buildings surrounded by freshly blacktopped and striped parking lots that follow the gentle contours of the rising hillside. Our rental was one of the poorest of vehicles parked there, which is a testament to the continuing pervasiveness of the Celtic Tiger prosperity. I gathered up our accummulated information and we set out, in search of Grandmother's birth certificate.
Years before, I had made a sketch of the family plot, placing the location of each headstone and recording their inscriptions. For Margaret, that included a listed birth year of 1883. Courtesy of the Heritage Center, we now also had acopy of the 1901 Census, which showed that she had already left Ireland. Once inside, we were directed to a waiting room. After about five minutes, we were ushered into a large, modern office and the search was on. Nothing turned up for 1883, there were THREE Margaret Driscolls born in 1884 (all in Drimoleague, but none from Seehanes) and none showed up in 1885. My wife began to dispair of finding any actual records, but I knew that Margaret's YOUNGER brother had been born in 1885 (from the Census), so I suggested searching in the OTHER direction. As the record clerk tapped away on the computer keys - the large flat screen hidden from us, there was still no joy, as 1882 drew no results and 1881proved no better.
"Well," my wife sighed. "It was worth a try.." The record's clerk stopped typing. Disappointment hung in the air. We had come so far... We had come so close...
"Your Grandmother was born on the Twentieth of January, 1880. Did you want me to print you a certificate?"
"We'll want three."
"They are 8 Euro each," she pointed out somewhat apologetically. " Do you still want three? With the 4 Euro research fee, that would total 28 Euro."
"Oh, yeah."


Here was tangible, DOCUMENTED proof, that Grandmother Margaret had been a real, live, human being. Margaret had died in 1947, before my wife was born. Prior to this moment, she had been a semi-mythic character, talked about in stories. But now, we had seen the house where she was born, walked the roads that she had walked and now, we held the legal proof of her existence. As we walked through the parking lot, my wife had tears welling up in her eyes as she gazed, lovingly, at the multi-colored, Irish long form birth certificate.

But Ireland is a place of paradoxes. It is the home of reverent, IRREVERENCE. Here is where men and women learned to deflect sorrow with wit and laughter ...

Standing on the fresh tarmac, surrounded by the new cars and modern medical buildings, we were torn from our sentimental reverie as three sheep ambled by -- a ram, and two ewes.
They didn't seem terribly impressed.

More to come...

Bob

Itallian_Chauffer

DAY SIX -- WEDNESDAY 4 APRIL

PART 2



We left the Skibbereen Hospital and drove into town center and parked in the car park located behind the Supervalu. From there, it is only a short walk to the Tourist Office. Inside, they found us a room in the Quality Inn, in Clonakilty (on the bypass, but near town center) for 82 Euro, including breakfast. They charge 4 Euro for making the reservation and collect 10% of the room charge as a deposit. We also bought a few "trinkets" -- tourist-type gifts for all those co-workers who say, "Oh, you're going to Ireland? Bring me back something." -- and received a recommendation to try The Church, for lunch.

The Church is an old Protestant, Church of Ireland, remodeled into a restraunt. It was quite busy, which -- given the time of year -- means that it is quite popular with locals. I'm not terribly suprised, either. The food and service were excellent. Even though we departed from our usual luncheon fare of soup and sandwhiches, we both ate excedingly well for about 20 Euro. The baked goods on offer for desert looked amazing, but we were both so filled by our servings that we had to give them a pass.

After lunch, we headed west past and dropped back into the Heritage Center to pick up an unframed copy of the Castle Donovan print, as a gift for our daughter. Then, we drove to the Skibbereen Memorial Cemetary and paid a visit to the Famine Grave Site. Skibbereen was decimated during the Great Famine; her loses painfully documented by numerous writers and artists who visited the area during that time. It is a Testament to the Irish people, in general, and the people of Skibbereen, in specific, that we saw numerous bunches of freshly laid flowers, randomly placed on the Famine Grave mound. It is a moving, and sobering place.

Back on the road, we set out to shop, in Glengarriff, after deciding that it was much too late to consider even a partial tour of the Beara. We parked in the Quills lot and did a quick tour through the store, making a mental note of prices, etc. Then we crossed the street to the Glengarriff Crafts shop, enticed by the huge banner signs declaring SALE (not unlike the same signage, that we had seen at Quill's). To my suprise, not only were the prices actually lower, but the selection (of the merchandise we were searching for, at least) seemed more expansive. We secured sweaters for our son and DIL, a framed wall hanging (in Irish) for my wife's sister, and adorable sweaters that our grandson and granddaughter will be able to wear next winter, all for about 200 Euro.

As my wife was settling up with the VAT back paperwork, etc., I wandered out to observe the on-going construction on the building next door. Then, we went back into Quill's and picked up the remaining items (36 Euro) that we had seen earlier but had been unable to duplicate at the Crafts shop. And, yes, BOTH of us got taken with the infamous DCC! In my case, I actually called the clerk on it and was advised that the US dollar amount was 'just for information purposes' and quite honestly, the extra 50 cents or so difference just wasn't worth fighting over. Likewise, we decided, even with the 'extra' $4 or so tacked on, we still felt satisfied with what the Crafts shop merchandise had cost (we WERE using our Credit Union provided Debit card, so we didn't take a 'double' hit). Still, it does frost me that the tiny print on the bottom of the receipt says "Cardholder has chosen to pay in USD".

We drove back into Bantry and had dinner at the Bantry Bay Hotel's O'Callahan's pub. This time, we DID get desert -- and it tasted marvelous. Then, we drove back over the Goat's Path to Kilcrohane. I called the Tobins, to let them know that we would be leaving in the morning and made arraingments to cover the estimated utilities costs. John advised me to leave 15 Euro on the table, but I opted to leave 20, as I might want to return someday and figured that an extra 5 Euro might suffice to cover any unforseen overages. We had tried to do one load of wash in the combination washer-dryer and it had turned into a lengthy and doubtless, tremendously energy inefficient fiasco, as we ended up drying much of the items under the electric space heater mounted on the bathroom wall. This was our third experience with Irish appliances and we just can't seem to get a grasp of the intricacies of using them correctly. Ah, well.

While the dryer wasn't really drying, I dropped down to the shop in the village and purchased two of the Sheep's Head Way tee shirts. Since we were scheduled to meet Ciaran Wynne, on Friday, in Killarney, this was to be our last night in Kilcrohane.

More to come ...

Bob

chatham

Bob, Thanks for the usual great trip report that reads like a good book. I feel I'm back in Ireland. My Best, Joan

Itallian_Chauffer

Day 7: THURSDAY, APRIL 6th

PART ONE


A liesurely start as we finished packing up and sprucing up our little rental cottage -- not that we had created much of a mess during our brief stay. We drove back into Kilcrohane for a quick stop in the shop and then headed back through Ahakista, Durrus and Skibbereen. Just to the East of Skib, we turned off onto the road for Castle Townsend, for a "look see". We had briefly toyed with the idea of renting a self-catering apartment in the Castle before settling on our place on the Sheep's Head, so we wanted to check it out for future reference. I would say that it is definitely a contender, in that regard.

From Castle Townsend, we took followed questionable signage along small country roads into Union Hall. By now, we were well and truely ready for a lunch stop, but nothing in Union Hall 'jumped out' at us, so we continued on, crossing the one-lane bridge into Glandore, famous from the "WAR OF THE BUTTONS" movie. This trip, we actually had to use the center 'pull off', as another vehicle approached from the other side. Quite a sensation. Just after making shore, the road curves sharply to the right and then winds hard, to the left. There is an old Protestant Church, high up on the hill to the left of the road and then the road continues along the shore to arrive at a modest boat ramp and warf. Overlooking this spot, on the left, are a series of shop buildings and a nice, little cafe, where we stopped for a light and satisfying lunch. As we entered, it began to rain, but it was quite finished by the time we returned to the car to go on.

Just past Glandore, I spotted a small directional sign indicating the way to Drombeg Stone Circle -- a spot that has eluded me (due to time constraints and weather) on numerous trips through this area. Seeing that it was so close, I turned off onto an even smaller, wooded and winding road and made my way to the car park. There was only one other car there. The car park will hold a dozen or so vehicles. At the far end is a gate that leads up to a farmhouse. The path to the Circle turns to the left, right before the gate, following a tractor- wide path that is isolated from the farmer's fields by high, stone walls. There is a portable building at the begining of the path that MIGHT be used to house a ticket-taker and/or a small snack and gift shop during high season, but it was empty and seemingly abandoned when we were there. The occupants of the lone, other car were departing as we arrived, so for a time, we had the site all to ourselves. In addition to the Cirle itself, there are also the remnants of two small, stone buildings (equally ancient) and a stone-lined, water filled cooking pit. The water in the pits was brought toa boil by dropping fire heated rocks into it and then adding the food that was to be cooked. Pretty interesting, that those neolitic peoples went to so much trouble to BOIL their meals, rather than simply ROAST them, over an open fire. Say what you will, about those primitive, neolithic hunter-gatherers -- they sure had a keen eye for esthetics! They knew how to pick incredibly picturesque settings for their religious/ceremonial constructs.

As I was moving quickly, billy-goat style (or what passes as such, when you are an over 50 individual) over the still wet, muddy and boggy terrain, my feet lost their purchace. After much flailing about of my arms and legs, my shoes slid smoothly out from under me. Down I went, landing with a squishy thump. I managed to strike a three point stance -- the sides of my two shoes and my out-stretched, right fore arm -- which saved my legs, hips and torso from contact with the puddle that sprang up out of the ground, as soon as pressure was applied to it. The sleeve of my wool jacket, however, became immediately saturated, wicking up the muddy water like a dessicated sponge. When I managed to regain my feet, it was LITERALLY dripping water. I actually had to take it off and wring it out!

All the while this was going on, my wife reacted in stunned horror. "Are you all right? Are you all right? "Oh, my God. Are you hurt?" she kept asking. I tried to covince her that I was fine, despite the jarring fall. I was touched by her concern, of course. We've been married thirty-five years, now, and I don't think I've ever seen her so frightened by any of my prior mishaps. Shrugging off my embarrassment and the ache in my shoulder from the impact, I told her that.

"I was TERRIFIED that you were going to be seriously injured!" She admonished. "There's NO WAY that I can drive the car out of here!"

Just then, a young (twenty-something) couple arrived. From their appearance and demeanor and my own predjudiced eye, I assumed they were German. HE nodded to us, then turned to read the display sign. After a moment, SHE turned and surveyed the grounds. HE drew out his camera, snapped a picture of the sign and then turned to shoot another, of the Stone Circle and ruins, beyond. Then HE carefully put away the camera and drew a small notebook and pen from the pocket of HIS jacket. HE flipped open the notebook and checked off the entry with flourish, before returning the book to his pocket. With a firm nod (quite chillingly reminiscent of Chevy Chase's take at the Grand Canyon, in National Lampoon's VACATION ), THEY turned and briskly walked back to the carpark.

My wife and I laughed, all the way back to the car.

More to come ...

Bob

Itallian_Chauffer

DAY SEVEN -- PART TWO

OR,

HOW TO QUIET A CROWD



We continued driving east, into the picturesque little town of Ross Carbery, with its pretty views of the bay and magnificent swans. Back on the N71, it was only a matter of minutes before we found ourself at Clonakilty. We located the Quality Inn easily (it's on the bypass, on the Southern edge of town), then set out to orient ourselves with the route to DeBarra's. Sure enough, "walking distance from Town Center" is measured somewhat differently by Irish standards than it is by those of us from the USA. While it is PROBABLY under a mile, it isn't MUCH under. Factoring in the changeable nature of the weather and the fact that an Irish April midnight feels a mite chill to those of us who hail from Florida, we decided that we would need to drive to the show. Once that was settled, we drove back to the hotel and checked in for a nap and clean up of my muddy jacket sleeve.

About 7:15, we headed into town, parking in the large car park that actually abutts the rear gate to DeBarra's. Having eaten a nice lunch there, back on Day 2, we decided to try our luck elsewhere. Can't remember the name of the place, now, but it was another pub, just West of DeBarra's, on the same side of the street. We ate in the bar, another 'soup and toasted' , pub-grub meal that although perfectly acceptible, was not particularly memorable. After we ate, I located a streetside ATM and withdrew enough Euros to cover our planned evening.

We settled into the front bar at DeBarra's about 8:15, or so, and were rewarded by the experience of witnessing a multi-Meteor Award winner humping his own gear into the back, about 8:30 or so. Now, the performance was scheduled to begin at 9:00, but having been to Ireland NUMEROUS times, neither of us were terribly suprised when they finally began selling the 15 Euro tickets and opened the doors about 9:15. Once we chose our seats (front row, but to the right of center), I went to the back bar and then headed out to the back 'beer garden' for a smoke. I had a nice chat with DeBarra's in-house sound man then. I also eaves-dropped (unintentionally) on John Spillane's half of a cell phone conversation about his up-coming performance, and then, witnessed the belated arrival of John's 'Special Mystery Guest', opening act, Niall Connolly. After a rushed, 'on the fly' guitar tuning, the show got underway about 9:30, when John introduced Niall to the 30 or 40 of us in the audience as "the best young song writer in Cork". Accepting the emphasis on "young" -- I would guestimate that Niall Connolly is in his mid- twenties -- I'll be damned, if John wasn't right! Niall performed for about 20 minutes or so, enchanting us with about half a dozen extremely entertaining and thought-provoking songs. At the end, he politely advised us that he had some CDs on offer, for 10 or 15 Euro, "depending on how nice your shoes are", and then he turned over the stage to John Spillane about 10:00.

Now, John Spillane is a widely known and revered musician in Ireland, but his stature is nearly LEGENDARY, in Cork. In addition to his 2003 and 2006 Meteor Award wins, John hosts a music program on the Irish Language Radio. In addition to his solo CDs, he is also is one half of The Gallic Hit Factory, partnered with Louis De Poer (Louis The Poet). We have been trying to catch his live performance for a few years, so we were somewhat shocked when he took the stage. Standing at the mike, guitar in hand, he addressed the crowd in a dispassionate monotone. With his head bowed, his eyes seemingly GLARED angrily up at us from beneath his brows. Using a diatribe nearly identical to my opening to this trip report, and always ending with the words, "So, fair play to me. And good enough!", my wife's initial reaction was "What an egotistical, ARROGANT, S.O.B.!!" As he was doing his intro to the third song, however, the personna slipped, as John cracked himself up with the absurdity of his banter and we realized that it was all an act. (I was told later, that Ger Wolfe uses much the same style when performing, perhaps even DRIER, still. Never having seen Ger perform, I'll have to take that on faith.) Once we were in on the joke, we both found John's stage patter rousing, good fun.

During intermission, I stepped over to where Niall was sitting and told him that I wanted to purchase his CD. It turned out that he had two --the first, for 10 and his second, for 15 Euro. "Which one did ye want?, he asked. When I told him that I'ld take both, he sheepishly pointed out that he had only performed ONE song on the night, that was actually on the CDs. The rest, he said, would be on the NEW CD that he was only just now recording. Based on what we've heard, we will DEFINITELY be purchasing his new CD!

After scoring autographed copies, I took the opportunity to slip out back again, for another smoke and had the great, good fortune of bumping into the real, off stage John Spillane.
"How's it going?" he asked.
"Quite well," says I.
When he asked what I thought of the show, I remarked that it was a quiet crowd. He misunderstood me, I'm sure, thinking that I was commenting on the relatively small size of the audience. He quickly pointed out that, after all, it was a Thursday night -- in EARLY April, no less -- and assured me that the crowds would get substantially larger, once the season got well and truely underway.
"No," says I. "I realize THAT. I'm suprised at how attentive and QUIET they are. Most times I've been out to listen to music, I've found it hard to hear over the sound of everybody talking and laughing." John smiled, then.
"When you make them pay 15 Quid," he said, "it shuts them up!"

Then, he laughed.

More to Come ...

Bob

Itallian_Chauffer

DAY EIGHT -- Part One

FRIDAY, 7 APRIL

In the morning, we had the included breakfast, cafeteria style in the downstairs dining area. Can't say that we were terribly impressed by the steamed and lamp-warmed, industrial tubs of rashers, scrambled eggs and sausages, but it was edible and filling. They DID have a pretty good selection of breads and cereals and decent supplies of juice and citrus fruits, though. As we were finishing up, we realized that it was also possible to special order items, as well.

I went for a quick stroll after breakfast. The hotel sits near the back of a deep cul-de-sac, on the right hand side. It is a fairly new place, equipt with a gym, and indoor pool and some sort of child / day care place. There is also a three screen multi-plex, located in a seperate building, only a few feet away. Across the side street to the multi-plex are a number of small two storey houses (some, even now, just under construction), that are apparrently used as self-catering rentals. Don't know what they charge for those, but at 80 Euro PER ROOM, B&B, we thought the hotel was a pretty decent deal, for anyone wanting to spend some time in the Clonakilty area.

After checking out, we headed off, back West on the N71. When we reached Skibbereen, I detoured North in order to do a last drive through of Drimoleague. As we passed the Hospital, enroute, our old friend, the Ram was standing out front on the hillside. We took it to be a good sign.

The drive through Bantry, Glengarriff, the Caha Pass Rock Tunnels and Kenmare were uneventful. The rugged beauty of the familiar scenery was more than adequate compensation for the sporatic rain squalls and short stretches of road construction. They seem Hell-Bent on widening that route, ASAP, and though understandable, it breaks my heart to think that before long, Bantry to Kenmare (and probable the Beara) will be as filled up with Tour Buses and cars as Killarney and the Ring of Kerry have become. Still, the rain always seemed to stop when we did, and for the most part we seemed to have the road to ourselves, so it's hard to wallow in to much angst.

We stopped in Moll's Gap for a quick break. As there is MAJOR widening taking place just beyond, it seemed like an opportune stop. Inside, I picked up a copy of Robert Whyte's 1847 FAMINE SHIP DIARY for 9 Euro 99, as well as a few other small items. Then, as luch time was calling, we turned off, toward Sneem, to visit The Strawberry Field Pancakes & Tearooms. I'd found them on the internet and we thought that after a week of typical Irish fare that it would make for a nice change. We were right (though the menu is actually more crepes than pancakes).

http://www.strawberryfield-ireland.com

They also have extensive offerings of Cast-Iron garden furniture and ornaments and various art work on offer and we purchased a nice little celtic design trivet for 6 Euro. Then, it was back in the car to Windy Gap and on toward Killarney. We stopped at the 'REAL' Ladie's View, South of the Tourist Shop normally accossiated with that location, for a couple of pictures. There is a wide pull off and a small plaque marking the spot. You have to walk about ten paces, up over a rise, but once there, it feels as if there is no one else in the world. I wonder how many people have actually stopped there? I know that all the Tour Buses stop up the road at the Shop and Snack Bar, with its wide car park and Leprechan Crossing signs and "I'M IRISH -- I NEED A BEER" Tee shirts.
Ah, well.
To each his own, I guess.

We drove down through the National Park, past Torc Falls, Muckross House and the turn off to Ross Castle and parked in the Car Park nest to the Tourist Office. It was about 3:30 PM, so we had them book us into the Harp B&B on Muckross Road for the night and also into the Shannonside B&B in Newmarket-on-Fergus for Sat night, as well. Then I called our musician frien, Ciaran Wynne and we arrainged to meet him about 8, for dinner. We would then follow him to the pub where he would be performing that night.

We wandered around town then, for about an hour or so. I dropped into the Pages Book Store on New Street (a regular stop, when in Killarney) and picked up a copy of Denis B. Cashman's FENIAN DIARY, edited by C.W. Sullivan III, for another 9 Euro 99. For some reason, books about the Fenian Rising and the Land War (1860 - 1910 time frame) are in very short supply, so I tend to grab up everything I find.

We also visited the local Dunne's (also on High Street) where we scored to TERRIFIC gifts for our not-quite-one-year-old grandchildren -- little Irish Soccer outfits (shorts and jerseys) in green and white, for only 6 Euro each. Then, as it was nearly 5 PM, we headed down to the Harp (probably within walking distance if the weather was decent) to check in and get in a short nap. Our bedroom was SMALL, but comfortable, and the bathroom was BIG. I would definitely stay there again.

More to come ...

Bob

Roosters

Don't stop!!

This is like really good sex...I want it to keep happening. (oops....sorry about the bold analogy!)

Anyway, we are heading to Ireland in June to a lot of the same places you are writing about. I am cutting and pasting like mad.

Keep it up!

TC

Itallian_Chauffer

EVENING OF DAY EIGHT

A NIGHT OF FRIENDS AND FAMILY

We napped in our room at the Harp B&B until shortly about 7:30 PM and then drove to the large parking lot behind the Failte Hotel on College Street. From there, it's only a short walk down a wide, cobblestone alley to High Street. As a bonus result of the Smoking Ban, a few of the cafes and pubs along the alley have added outside tables, greatly improving the ambience. Not too many people out to appreciate that though, as the sky was struggling mightily, to hold back the rain. By 9:30, however, it would give up the fight, unleashing a prety impressive downpour that lasted until nearly closing time. You've got to love a country, where the climate is so considerately accommodating. Where the alley connects to High Street, we entered O'Connor's and settled into a table downstairs and waited for Ciaran to arrive.

Ciaran Wynne has been an intregal part of our facination with Ireland since we first "discovered" his music, back in April of 2001. We actually met him in Feb of '02, and it was his recommendation of John Spillane, then, that culminated in our Clonakilty detour, this trip. Ciaran is, without a doubt, the most gifted singer-songwriter that I know (which actually says less about his talent, then it does about my limited circle of acquaintences). While fame and fortune HAVE managed to elude him (SO FAR), TALENT has fully embraced him. I know of no other artist that is more genuinely deserving of being a house-hold name. His songs are diverse snapshots of the human condition -- the good, the bad and even the mundane -- played back for us, as the lyrics to "A MOTHER'S SONG" says, "This is not a love song -- This is how feel", as his only disclaimer. On top of it all, Ciaran is a genuine, likeable person. How often does THAT occur, in the ranks of talented artists?

Once he arrives, we order a meal of good, basic fare -- Irish Stews, Ham and cabbage, and I suprise Ciaran with a gift. Last summer, I had located a small horde of 'SUNSHINE AND FLOWERS', a cassette recording by the group GLIONDAR (which included a young, but even then, talented) lead singer, named Ciaran Wynne! I have to say, he seemed equally touched and SHOCKED that I had found any copies remaining. I also gave him a copy of the second volume of my Irish Family History, as well -- the project having been inspired, as it was by his music. The entire project will entail three volumes, each individually title, but all under the "umbrella" title of SPOKES IN THE WHEEL (from a Ciaran Wynne song). Haven't heard back from him on that (it DOES run over 300 pages), but I THINK he will enjoy it.

Ciaran told us that his sister and brother-in-law were also in Killarney, for the weekend, as a 30th anniversary gift, from their children. He thought that they might be meeting up with us, at O'Riain's for Ciaran's performance. O'Riain's is almost directly opposite of O'Connor's and just 'up' the street from the FLESK (the excellent, 'American Legion' Steak and seafood bisque meal from the 11 DAY JUNE IRELAND TRIP with our daughter and son-in-law http://www.fodors.com/forums/threads...p;tid=34508429 ). O'Riain's used to be a small, gruby, pub with inexpensive rooms above, but it was recently purchaced by new owners and restored / converted into a fresh, clean, multi-floor, gathering place, while losing none of its original charm. Upstairs, the new owners have added a second bar and a small stage. Not previously know for providing music, they made the excellent choice of having Ciaran kick off their new venture.

When we entered, about 9 PM, Ann and Con were occupying a large booth in the front. After introductions all around, Ciaran dismissed himself to attend to setting up and tuning up. We had a nice getting acquainted chat about Ciaran, Kildare and our respective children until Ciaran returned, about 20 minutes later. Con, Ciaran and I stepped out into the alley for a smoke, but cut our time outside short, as someone chose that moment to puncture the rain clouds above us. Our time outside was made more interesting though, when Ciaran realized that in his early, 'starving artist' days, he had actually rented the front, upstairs room above the old O'Riain's, and recounted the universal lament of artists and musicians, occassionally "sneaking down the squeaky back steps to avoid the landlady" when he was a bit short, on the rent.

Upstairs, we were treated to an excellent performance, before a small ("It being the off-season, and all&quot, but generally appreciate crowd. A Canadian girl wandered in and asked if Ciaran could do any James Blunt songs. Ciaran replied that, no, since James Blunt didn't do any of HIS songs, Ciaran felt it only proper, to reciprocate. The girl from Canada seemed to consider that as slightly unreasonable, I guess, as she left, shortly after, but the rest of us thought that it made perfect sense -- it was THAT kind of a crowd.

As the evening came to a close, we said our good byes all around and headed back to our B&B. I really haven't done justice to the scope and depth of the evening, I suppose. Just know that I would return to Ireland again, JUST for one more night like it.

More to come ...

Bob

Itallian_Chauffer

DAY 9 -- Saturday, 8 April

TAKING THE LONG WAY HOME


After a very pleasant breakfast and chat with the lady of the house, we departed the Harp B&B and Killarney via the Countess Road 'short-cut' to the Cork Road (the N22) and then turned off onto the N72, heading East, toward Mallow. It was a dark, cloudy and schizophrenicday, with scattered bouts of rain, both SOFT and Hard, interspersed by brief stretches of blue sky and sunshine. We turned off onto the side road running along side the Catholic Church in Rathmore. It was in this very building (remodelled a few times, but still essentially the same), that my wife's Grandparents were married, back in 1865. It's kinda hard to drive by, or even, NEAR a place like that, without pausing at least a few minutes.

Back on the road, we turned right at the fork marked Millstreet, caused by the R582 intersecting with the N72. A mile or so down the road, we passed the Cadbury Chocolate Factory (no Tours and Free Samples that I'm AWARE of - darn the Luck!). A few miles down the road, we cross a little bridge, entering County Cork and leaving Kerry behind. You might never notice the difference, but the eternal Cork-Kerry rivalry should assure you that it really DOES matter to those who live hereabout. To the right, is a narrow lane, heading off, towards the mountains (Darrynasaggart Mountain chain) including Clara and the unmistakeable PAPS. This road takes you to the Townlands of Knocknaloman and Caherbarnagh. We continue on the R582, though and stop at the little shop and petrol station in the village of Ballydaly. There, ever mindful of the 'must return the rental car EMPTY', I opt to add 5 euro to the tank. Try though I might, the woman running the shop insists on pumping the fuel, so the two of us are standing there at the back of the car as:
the wind picks up, it starts to rain -then starts to rain REALLY hard, we notice random snowflakes falling (but, frequently enough to be noticeable!) and then, we start to be pelted, by BB sized HAIL STONES!!!! I stopped her at 4 Euro, handed her two 4 Euro coins and she dashed off to the shop, while I raced around the car and jumped into the driver's seat. After a few, brief moments spent laughing about the absurdity of the situation, I started the car and drove slowly to the road. By the time I pulled out from the parkin lot, the sudden weather assault had devolved into a light rain. After less than a mile, the rain had ceased, completely. Another mile further, I parked the car in the village Square of Millstreet. Although still somewhat cloudy, mostly, the sky was blue and the sun was shining. We went into the Wordsworth shop (another, perrennial shopping stop)and purchased a few small items. I bought Donal Hickey's STONE MAD FOR MUSIC -- THE SLIABH LUACHRA STORY for 9 Euro 99. Sliabh Luachra is a geographical area, roughly triangular in shape that is somewhat loosely anchored between three points -- Killarney, Millstreet and Castleisland. It is an area rich in tradition, particularly in music and story telling. Along the base of that Millstreet to Killarney line, is AN SHRONE -- The City -- a settlement and Holy Place that was old when men of the Aegean fought over the beautiful Helen.

We had lunch at the incompareable Nibbles. It is a "food emporium" that is worth a detour, to reach. Their speciality is their baked goods, in every concievable variety -- whole grain, gluten-free, organic grown -- you name it. Go. Eat. Enjoy. Discover the gastronomic version of Nirvanna. My only complaint? I spotted a half a dozen or so eclairs in the display rack, as we were ordering, but decided to purchase some AFTER our meal. By that time, not only were the eclairs LONG gone, but so was nearly everything else that had been on offer, a mere 30 minutes earlier! I just know it was all those nasty, Westlife-loving outsiders that deprived my craving sweet tooth! But, I DID get to return to Millstreet, in spite of them, so ...

As we made our sad, eclair-less way out of town, we stopped at the Turbrid Holy Well, so that my wife could fill her little bottle and make it through another year, protected. We hurriedly returned to the car, as it started raining lightly, almost the very second that the doors were closed. I took a brief moment to celebrate the continuation of my streak -- in SEVEN YEARS, no rain has EVER struck me, while I have been in Millstreet! We have friends there, who have suggested that my annual trips need to be LENGTHENED -- solely for that reason!

I drove back in toward Millstreet and turned right (South) just to the West of the Catholic Church. This road winds back toward the Mount Leader Industrial Park. Just past the entrance, on the right hand side (West), is a small dirt road the runs along the base of Clara mountain, near Claratlea South and continuing on, to pass through Gortavehy. Mid-way between those two areas is a crossroad (Croohig's Cross). A right turn (South) would return you to Ballydaly, but we continued West. If you keep going, the next cross road is at Caherbarnagh. This entire road was undergoing widening and/or drainage work and was nearly impassable in several places, so we turned off toward the North and eventually made our way into Rathmore -- ending up on the very street where we had parked earlier that morning -- next to the Catholic Church! Had I NOT turned off, when I did, I BELIEVE that I would have reached the ancient site of An Shrone. So now, I already have an important part of my NEXT Ireland trip planned!

From Rathmore, we drove into Killarney and then turned NE onto the N21. We stopped briefly (under a CANOPIED petrol station) to buy another 10 Euro worth, and then continued onward, to Adare. We then fought the rain up to and around Limmerick and all the way to our final night's B&B, SHANNONSIDE, in Newmarker-on-Fergus. The kindest thing that I believe that I can say concerning this particular B&B is that it REALLY is conveniently close to the Shannon airport. They have won numerous awards and accolades, over theyears, but the most telling, for me, is the plaque hanging outside, recognizing 35 years of service, dated 1995.

Once the rain finally dissipated, we drove into Bunratty for our final dinner at Kathleen's and then returned to SHANNONSIDE to pack up and hit the bed for our 9 AM flight. We were at the airport at 7. We dropped off the car (without any suprises) and took the shuttle back to the terminal. The check in lines seemed to go on forever, foretelling a full, no empty seat return flight. At this point, I would have welcomed a "BUMP", but when the inevitable offer came, it was only for ONE, so there was no joy, there. The flight was uneventful, and our time in Newark EXCEDINGLY short, due to Continental's changes to our original itinerary, but we were soon in Fort Meyers, without any untoward delays.

I'll add some follow up info later, but this is pretty much it, except to round it all up in John Spillane's typical fashion. I have tried to tell all the truth of it, as best as I can remember. I wrote it all down, in my own words, like, EACH and EVERY ONE. So Fair Play, to me.

And, Good Enough!

Bob

12perfectdays

Bob,
Thanks again for the great trip report! I was delighted to hear that O'Riain's is doing well and has added music!
Our stop in Killarney was over an extremely quiet weekend before Halloween and a Bank Holiday, discovering O'Riain's was a delight (they had only been open a few weeks and things were slow) so it is great to know they are doing well.

A second visit to Killarney (and O'Riain's)is on the map for our next trip, hopefully again at a time to avoid the large crowds I have read about here on Fodor's as this area was DH's "fave" pick for a re-visit.

Speaking of Killarney, I also wanted to give you kudos for the heads up on the Gap of Dunloe tour and Ross Castle. It was as good as you had written, the cart was as small as you had mentioned & knowing ahead of time that we would be staying behind for a tour of the castle worked very well.

If you have yet to get the chance, it really was a great tour, although that could also be because of the guide...(I must see if I have written her name on any of my notes) she was so passionately in love with the history of the castle and surroundings that we felt as though we could literally see it as it happened.

Thanks!!!><
Dawn

starfish1

Bob, thanks for taking the time to provide us Ireland newbies with a great read - very entertaining!

Itallian_Chauffer

Thanks for the nice comments. I'm glad y'all enjoyed it. We toured Ross Castle in the Summer of '04, and we did the Muckross House and Traditional Farms the day before our Gap of Dunloe Tour, and yes, BOTH sitesare WELL worth the look.

Now that I've relived this year's trip, I am also begining to think about what to see NEXT time (because there never is a question about there being a next time!).

Thanks for reading ...

Bob

GreenDragon

Hmmm... construction on the road to Caherbarnagh... VERY useful information, as our farmhouse is in Caherbarnagh, and we're there in six weeks... thanks!!!

Itallian_Chauffer

The construction was on the East-West road, running just to the SOUTH of Caherbarnagh -- not North from there, to the R582 (Millstreet to Rathmore Road).

Even still, the drive from Caherbarnagh to Killarney will take a good 30 - 45 minutes.

I DID think that, time permitting, the info on the relative proximity of An Shrone would be of interest to you. I'll try to narrow down the exact location before you leave.

Bob

Itallian_Chauffer

Additions and Corrections:

Lunch in Glandore on Thursday (Day 6), while enroute to Clonakilty, was at the Cove Cafe & Restaurant, The Pier House, Glandore. We each had a toasted sandwich (2 @ 4.25), chips (2 @ 2.00)(french fries) and tea (2 @ 1.50), for a total of 13 Euro 50, or about $16.75. Food was very good, simple fare. Wouldn't make a special trip just to eat there, but would stop there again, if I was in the vicinity around mealtime...

Bob