World wind Tour of the Irish Republic

I returned from the Emerald Isle yesterday. Our party of four: myself, my wife Jenny, Nan, a close friend of hers and Jim, a close friend (of mine of Irish extraction) drove a wide-ranging circuit of the Republic in a Renault rental over the course of eight wonderful days. Having returned home, I wish to wax philosophical about our journey.  

For a short time, you’ll tend me then? 

Lovely. 

Ireland is an English-speaking country boasting 32 counties and a population of just under seven million. But that’s a misleading statement, for this is a divided island. It is less divided than it once was for sure, but divided, nonetheless. Six of its counties belong to Northern Ireland which, in turn, currently belongs to the British Commonwealth. The remaining 26 counties belong to the Republic of Ireland – its official separation having taken place in 1949. 

The division between the two is not so much cultural as it is religious and political. It is political because the people in the Republic don’t think much of England and its treatment of the Irish people over the centuries. In many cases, hate is not too strong a word. The emotional divide between Catholics and Protestants runs just as deep. This hearkens back to the English conquest and protestant settling of Ireland, largely under the grim English general and Parliamentarian, Oliver Cromwell.  

Don’t know about him? Do look up his time in Ireland. 

Another difference is rapidly becoming language. Oh, everyone still speaks English there (except for the French and German visitors we stumbled on) but since 2010 there is a determined movement for Irish to be learned and spoken outside the classroom. Padraig Pearse, the Irish Revolutionary executed following the 1916 Easter rising famously said, “Tír gan teanga, tír gan an am” – A country without a language is a country without a soul.  The Republic has taken this to heart. 

Everywhere one travels now, one sees dual lingual public signs. Messages are in Irish first then in English. The English translation is inevitably half as long as the Irish version. Oh, and tis called “Irish” now, not Gaelic I’ll have y’know. Just as English is a Germanic language, Gaelic is a Celtic language and, as I understand it, its Irish form traveled to Scotland and not the other way around. Currently, folks only refer to it as Irish and it is quite common to hear it spoken on the street. I stood between two Irish conversations in one pub and marveled at the musical flow of a language I could not hope to understand.  

Now that we’re speaking of pubs, allow me to say that I’ve never seen so many! You’d be hard pressed not to pass a block containing one, two, t’ree or more. Having said that, we were astounded to run across a memorial in Dublin to Father Theobald Matthew, a Catholic priest who miraculously managed to have nearly 50% of Irish drinkers sign an abstinence pledge prior to the great 19th century famine. He tried … but I t’ink the movement has since foundered. 

Irish pubs, like the Irish people, are friendly. Seems that, sooner or later, everyone stops in for a pint or a half pint. No one is considered a stranger. And if you spy a brew with which you are unfamiliar, just ask for a taste. Twill be no trouble atall t’pour you a drop. Of course, the cost of beer and hard liquor is dear, owing to the 67% alcohol tax. I can tell you; this has led to brisk tourist business in the airport duty-free section.  

Pubs are gathering places. We must have visited around 15-16. Most close around 11:30. They can be loud and crowded, but nowadays smoke-free - even though a good portion of the population still smokes. If one is lucky, one catches a session, usually starting about 9:30. A session is a gathering of musicians, whether planned or not. We were blessed enough to attend three sessions. We heard guitars, fiddles, flutes, an 8-string mandolin, a fife, and a modified bagpipe. Popular rock tunes were played as well as lilting Irish ballads and foot-stomping Irish tunes as well as traditional Irish dancing. All the time we were elbow to elbow, carefully guarding our mugs against spillage. Each and every time it proved a riotously enjoyable experience. 

I can’t sign off on pubs without giving the traditional Irish toast - SLAINTE (pronounced SLAUN-CHE). 

We flew into and out of Dublin. In between, we wandered through Wexford, Tullamore, Killarney, Tipperary, Cobh, Limerick, Galway, Castlebar and Ballina. In Ballina we were surprised to see a large sign entitled BIDEN’S CORNER and beside it an artistic rendition of our President – he spoke there April 15thof this year. Enroute, we toured the Guiness Brewery, the 1798 Rising museum, Vinegar Hill Battlefield, spectacular castle and abbey ruins, the Tullamore Distillery, a spectacular portion of the Ring of Kerry, Spike Island Penitentiary, Kylemore Abby, monuments to the Irish Revolutionary Wolfe Tone, his gravesite as well, and ended with a wonderfully dramatic tour of Jameson’s Distillery. 

Our intrepid driver, Jim Callahan, courageously drove on the “wrong side of the road” the whole way with my wife acting as his navigator. He got into the groove quickly. City driving was tricky – as it always is. But outside of Dublin, drivers are courteous and for the most part not at all reckless. Speed limits off the highway are low and drivers tend to stay below the limits. On the other hand, roads are extremely narrow, crowded by by high hedges to either side. Many times, we sucked in our breath when passing or being passed. One brilliant sign we passed read, “Watch for oncoming cars in the middle of the road.” Also, Ireland relies on roundabouts instead of redlights and stop signs. It was not uncommon at all to pass a half dozen inside of a mile or two.  

The countryside varied north to south, east to west, but was, for the most part, vibrantly green. Which leads me to the weather. In a land that can be exceedingly wet and where locals joke about experiencing at times all four seasons in a single day, we lucked out. It rained only two of our days there and rained hard only once. It is the constant rain that accounts for the beautiful greenery in Ireland, and I would submit the reason green is associated with Ireland.  

Comments regarding our lodgings: We stayed in diverse lodgings, from Air B&B to hotels to a castle. The former two ranged from very poor to stellar. The castle, which Jim arranged for us, was … magical. It was actually a 15th century castle keep (stone tower) composed of eight levels, including its battlements. A total of 80 steps stone and wood to the roof, up and down. Refurbished with precision by a German couple who devoted years to bring it to its current state, it sported many stained-glass, murder slit windows, four bedrooms of various sizes, a kitchen, a banquet hall, a high-ceilinged great room with a fireplace, three restrooms and a magnificent view of the countryside from the battlements.  

We were charmingly serenaded there by a chorus of mooing from nearby cattle herds and the cawing of a nearby raven rookery. What was not so charming had to do with our casualties. Many of the passageways were fairly low and both Jim and I received lumps from not ducking low enough. Jim had to staunch some bleeding. Even Jen and Nan who are considerably shorter than us had to duck at times. Oh, well, all part of the package. 

In the end we came away completely enchanted with Ireland and eager to return. I leave you with a traditional Irish farewell.  

“Slán leat” or Good Health and Goodbye : )