To Galway (Bunratty Castle, Cliffs of Moher, The Burren)
We checked out of the Ross and met Michael on this rainy and windy Sunday morning. With the weather poor and the forecast uncertain, Michael aborted the ferry across the River Shannon that we were due to take, so we drove highways toward Limerick.
Along the way we drove through Adare which was a cute town with picturesque thatched cottages for rent and a famous golf course, home to the 2027 Ryder Cup which Michael was already excited about.
Michael added a stop at Bunratty Castle and Folk Park which was not on our itinerary. It was a sort of tourist trap on a par with the Bog Village in Kerry, but much larger…and there was an actual castle involved. The weather was pretty miserable but after seeing a cute bunch of goats and another pair of Irish wolfhounds we ducked into various dwellings to learn about each one.
We started with a blacksmith who was firm in distinguishing his trade from farriers, and also firm that his trade was rapidly dying in the real world. In a few decades there would be no more blacksmiths “in the wild,” just in recreations like this place. He talked a good game and warmed up his fire but never actually smithed anything.
We moved on to the actual Bunratty Castle, a restored edifice that now hosts tours and medieval banquets. We clambered around in it as best we could, navigating the narrow spiral staircases which again Barb was not happy about. We didn’t learn much about the original inhabitants of the castle but learned a bit about Lord and Lady Gort who renovated it and started the village in the 1970s.
After the castle, we stopped in several farmhouses and found some docents more forthcoming than others. They gave us a fair sense of 19th century living in Ireland from the perspective of several different classes. None seemed great.
There was a whole early 20th century village that we mostly passed up (and was mostly not open yet on this chilly day). We went onward to Bunratty House which was the actual home of the family that started to renovate the castle in the early 20th century. There was an overenthusiastic young male docent that was a little too much in character to the point that we couldn’t understand him or deconstruct his references to modern or older cultures. He was one docent I was actually eager to run away from.
We hit the gift shop and reconnected with Michael, ready to get back on the road. Our next stop was a brief one in Lahinch where we observed the surf and high tide completely erasing the beach. And a lonely fox sitting in the parking lot. We avoided him (or her).
A short while later, we were at the Cliffs of Moher. The sky had cleared somewhat but the wind was whipping at 40-50mph, we guessed, seemingly near gale force. We layered up as best as we could and made our way to the visitor’s center. Barb and I watched the introductory videos and worked our way through exhibits explaining the geology, history and wildlife of the cliffs. We took a green screen photo that Allie described this way, “You look like ghosts haunting the people of Ireland.” Spot on. We tried a second time but the results were about the same.
We found ourselves watching a long series of videos introducing various people connected with the site. They went on for a while and I was ready to move on. Barb said she would watch the rest of the videos, hit the gift shop, then the bathroom to layer into warmer clothes. I went upstairs to the bathroom to wait for her. I waited for a while and then a while longer. Eventually I went downstairs to the gift shop and noticed there was another bathroom. I looked for her outside, by the cliffs, back at the gift shop, then I decided I may as well see the cliffs for myself. I went to the left to take some pix, figuring that the sunlight was better in that direction.
The path in that direction was blocked after a few hundred yards because the wind was too strong on the slopes. I took what I could. In retrospect, we were lucky the sky had cleared to a bright sunny day, but the howling wind kept the usual crowds of tourists away. Nevertheless, lingering was not an option.
I went back to the parking lot to see if Barb had gone back to Michael and the car. No luck. I headed back to the visitor center and finally bumped into her coming out. She had gone to the tower on the right. Now that we had found each other, we elected to go back to the car. We would be back at the cliffs on our Aran Islands tour in a couple of days, so we hoped for better weather then.
Michael drove us through The Burren, an otherworldly expanse where the topsoil has been stripped down to bare rock. We stopped at several places for photos, trying to convey a sense of the scale of the place. The photos don’t really do it justice.
We wrapped along the coast for miles with the ocean and the Aran Islands on our left and The Burren on our right.
Eventually we returned to some mild Irish green countryside and encountered Dunguaire Castle, one of Ireland’s prettiest. We stopped outside for some photos but made no effort to go in.
We drove a bit further and were soon in Galway. We made it downtown to our hotel, The Victoria. Michael gave us a short list of recommended restaurants. We unloaded in our less than luxurious room and then hit the streets to find dinner.
We quickly found our way into the pedestrian Latin Quarter of Galway with several streets filled with people, restaurants and bars. We headed for The Quay, or the Galway Girl Restaurant, recommended by Michael. The place seemed hopping but when we asked for a table we were told the restaurant was already full for the evening…something similar to what we’d been told in Kilkenny but without the undertone of racism Barb had encountered. We headed down a couple of doors to Martine’s which I’d seen was well reviewed. They gave us a table and we had a nice dinner: mushroom soup for Barb and a hake filet for me. It was perhaps our healthiest meal in Ireland. Our waiter from Portugal was a lot of fun and helped recommend some decaffeinated tea for Barb to look for (for a friend).
Once again, I had my chance to go seek out some music but felt a little uncomfortable wandering Galway’s streets alone. Instead, we settled into a string of Muder She Wrote episodes on TV and I typed up notes. Based on our itinerary, I thought this would be one of the longest days of driving but it turned out to be not so bad. Maybe taking the ferry over the Shannon would have added a significant chunk of time. As it was, Michael deposited us at Bunratty Castle for several hours which was not on the itinerary. I’m not sure what else would have filled more time. I suppose we would have stayed at the Cliffs of Moher longer if it hadn’t been uncomfortably windy. Again, you have to take what the weather gives you in Ireland.
You must be logged in to post a comment.