The Auld Sod, Part One

A large portion of my heritage is Irish. Sadly, no one ever wrote anything down or kept any records and so the farthest I can go back is to my great-grandfather Jeremiah Healy who came to America in the 1870’s. And while I knew of this, we were so assimilated that there wasn’t a trace of “Irishness” in my upbringing. My only Irish quality is a penchant to melancholy and sentimentality.

As a kid, my notions of Ireland came from three movies. 1948’s “Luck of the Irish” showed me a dark and woodsy Ireland…complete with a leprechaun. “Darby O’Gill and the Little People” (staring two Scots, saints preserve us!) was a little brighter…and with lots more leprechauns. And then I saw John Ford’s love letter “The Quiet Man”. No leprechauns (unless you count Barry Fitzgerald) but, my God, what a beautiful place. And I knew, one day, I would have to see it.

And so off we went… and Ireland did not disappoint. The pouring rain at Dublin Airport was inconvenient and a little uncomfortable…but it was perfect. Dublin sparkled with her coat of rain; the old stone buildings just glistened. Every corner revealed a park, a church, a statue…and sometimes all three. Rows of old Georgian style homes, all completely identical except for the front doors which were of every color of the visible spectrum, lined narrow but heavily traveled streets. On a Friday, at 10:00am in the pouring rain, the streets were packed with pedestrians. The place was alive. Sadly, we had to make our way to our hotel which was away from the center of the city but we knew we would be back for an extended stay at journey’s end.

Ireland is a mystical and ancient place. Burial mounds in Ireland pre-date the pyramids by a thousand years. St. Patrick arrived in the year 432 followed by the Vikings, and then more Vikings. St. Kevin built a monastic village at Glendalough, and, on this first day of our tour, we visited the ruins which had been sacked by one of the invasions. This place is truly spiritual on many levels. It is set in a narrow valley with the mountains on either side disappearing into the low hanging mist. Everything is relentlessly green except for the shards of the village complete with small church and round watch tower. There was a presence here, not just Christian, but ecumenical in the broadest possible sense. I almost felt that, if I could have come back at night…alone…I would be in the presence of the spirits of Christians and Druids and Vikings. It is a profound and moving place. It was one of my favorite stops.

We made our way out of Glendalough along a series of very narrow country roads…and I mean narrow. At one point, I asked our driver how wide the road was. He said it was 11 feet wide. I asked about the width of the motor coach and he replied “8 feet 4 inches” (Gulp!). Surprisingly, we saw only one accident the whole time we were on our tour. Two things contribute to this. One is that, for the most part, the Irish drive these wonderful little econo-boxes we can’t get here in the states. Marques I have not seen in America for years, Peugeot, Opel, Alfa Romeo abound, as well as Hondas, Toyotas, and Nissans we don’t get. The second thing is actually two-fold, the Irish are patient and they have an absolutely cat like sense of where a car will fit and where it won’t. At one point, on a road about 30 feet wide, there were two lanes of traffic going in each direction…four cars abreast…no problem. And then I would look ahead and a car would pull over and stop until we passed, and then proceed. Oh yeah, the speed limit on that 11 foot road was 100kph…62mph!!!

We made our way to the town of Waterford and to its single greatest attraction, the Waterford Crystal Factory. The factory is fascinating and the artistry of the craftsmen unparalleled. Their museum is wonderful and, unlike most museums, they encourage you to touch the pieces. After an all too brief shopping opportunity, it was off to the town of Cork, which felt like two cities. On one side of the river is the older part of town which looks like a seaside village right out of the 1800’s. The other side is modern and cosmopolitan. We didn’t get to stop but someday I want to go back and explore. We made our way to the delightful Hayfield Manor Hotel and ended our first day of touring.

Coming next...Blarney and beyond.