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09 December 2011

Mauritius - Mixture of Cultures

The hot, moist, earthy smelling air hits you as soon as you leave the airport building after landing in Mauritius. It smells so exotic that we could not wait to sample new delights whilst exploring this island! We came to love this earthy smell, mixed with warm air as if we were in a hot-house.

We set off with our driver to our hotel. Passing by fields of sugar cane and many small houses in poor condition, some only half completed, we discovered that this is apparently a tax dodge. It does nothing to make the place look well-kept! Tiny shops line the road with living quarters above. Some of the shops are right on the road, with nowhere to hide if a bus gets in your way. Scooters and bicycles abound and drivers all appear very courteous. The dogs all look very thin and sickly which was rather disturbing.

With a sea temperature of between 22 - 27 degrees C, the beach was a first stop for a fantastic swim on calm, beautiful water.

Our first expedition, after a restful night, was to Pamplemousses Botanical Gardens, officially named after Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam. These gardens cover approx 37 ha and are truly beautiful. We were fascinated by the Talipot Palm which grows for 30 - 60 years before it bears it's flowers. Once it has flowered, it will die and will need to be cut down. Weird!  There are many other palm trees and the huge Amazon Lilies with their upturned edges are an amazing sight.The edges are thorny so that the fish won't nibble on them. Their flowers open for 2 days only, the first day they are cream and the second day they are pink. The Lotus flower was in another pond and this is a flower sacred to the Hindus. The tortoises are up to 250 years old - amazing that a tortoise lives for so long - perhaps there is a lesson in that - we all need to slow down somewhat!! Do take some mosquito repellent with you as the mosquitoes attacked us in their hundreds - whether this was because it suddenly rained I have no idea. A truly fascinating botanical garden.

A visit to the Le Cauden Waterfront in Port Louis will empty your purse but give you good mementos of Mauritius. This city is the capital of Mauritius and was first used as a port way back in 1638. The traffic congestion is a nightmare and it takes ages to get around the city. We did not visit the local market as there were hordes of people in the vicinity and after sitting in the traffic jam, we preferred to go to the Waterfront which was less busy. Do watch out for pick-pockets in any busy market. Port Louis has a large harbour and the city was built on reclaimed land.

Mauritians are very family focused and the various religions are also tolerant of each other so you will have Muslims living right next door to Hindu's or Christians with no animosity. Many of the locals are from French descent and the languages spoken are English, Creole and French. A fascinating blend!

The hotel where we stayed hosted many local families for the New Year Dinner/Dance so we were very lucky to be able to converse with locals and hear their stories and some of their history. The entertainment was good with an amazing Fire Dance where they all ended up jumping through burning hoops! Not for me, thanks.

The Sega dance came next and this was amazing. The dancers wear very brightly coloured costumes and the ladies skirts are wide and able to swirl and sway with the hip movements. This tradition was started by sad and homesick slaves in the 18th century as they drank "arrack" from sugar cane and sang and danced to their soulful songs. Today the tradition lives on although there are no longer slaves on this interesting island. The music comes from guitars, triangles and the ravanne. The dancers are extremely good and hauled us onto the floor to our huge dismay, as the hips just did not want to flow as sexily as theirs did! But we lived to tell the tale of how NOT to dance the Sega. Fabulous fireworks on the beach brought in the New Year and then we danced some more until the knees started protesting after all the exercise.

Taxi's are fairly cheap in Mauritius so we took one down to Ill de Cerfs. Our Muslim driver was a mine of information about local customs. Hindus are in the majority with Muslim, Catholics and Chinese all getting along together. It is apparently a sign of mistrust if you lock your door when going out for the day as the neighbours will always watch out for each other. On feast or holy  days they offer each other food as per their own customs and a tolerance exists that is to be envied.

The Hindus were taking food baskets to the temple for New Years day (food for the Gods) and we stopped to admire the beautiful Hindu Temple. Apparently, the caste system is disappearing from the local Hindus as they marry outside of their caste. Always beautifully dressed, the Hindus look gracious and proud. Each Hindu house has a shrine in the garden, some more ornate than others. There are also roadside shrines, with candles burning and food available. Hindu women all have dots on their foreheads. A red dot means that she is married whilst unmarried ladies may choose the colour of their dot to match the outfit of the day. More fun that I would say than a plain red dot for many, many years of married life. But less stress than keeping a myriad of colours ready to match your clothes, I suppose.

The clothing manufacturing industry, such as Ralph Lauren & Polo, the sugar cane industry and tourism are the main income producers for this small island. Many of the locals own their own small supermarket shops, others are taxi drivers or employed in the tourist industry. The French speaking Chinese appeared to be the wealthiest, judging by their cars! 

We took a boat across to Ile de Cerf and walked around the island, stopping every 10 minutes to have a swim. Although the water is so warm, it still cools you off for another 10 minutes or so. We found a gorgeous swimming spot just before the mangrove swamps. We had to turn back at this point and head back towards the lagoon. The water is so clear and shallow at this point that one can just wallow for ages. On the way back to the mainland it suddenly started raining so we got soaked to the skin - but warm rain! There were huge puddles of water on the roads so the driver had to be more cautious. We passed an amazing tree which had curved right across the road and then put down roots on the other side making an arch across the roadway. I loved the Flame trees with their bright red flowers. We were sorry to say good-bye to our driver who had kept us so well entertained during the drive. His recurring comment was about the "Political Mens" whom he feared would disturb the peace and bring about religious tension. We hope his fears turn out to be unfounded.

Our next exploration was to the Seven Earths. Model Ship building is renowned in Mauritius and James succumbed and bought the "Bounty"  The packing of this fragile ship was nothing short of miraculous and quite something to watch.

 We passed Phoenix, a pretty town with lots of trees and clean looking streets.
Floreal is a very posh area with ambassador's residences and houses for the rich. There are stunning views to be enjoyed from Troux aux Cerfs (Hole with Deer) crater across to the mountains. Curepipe is the 2nd largest town in Mauritius and has a population of approx 82,000. Located on the Central Plateau, the soil is fertile in this region. Mauritius produces most if it's own vegetables, fruit, tea, sugar and clothing. Most other commodities have to be imported.

Grand Bassin has been declared a holy lake by the Hindus and the lake is dotted with various temples. A strong smell of incense lingers in the air and one is allowed to visit some shrines - just remember that shoes and socks must be removed before entering.

Our next stop was the village of Chamarel where we enjoyed a great lunch in the company of a Zimbabwean honeymoon couple. We all set the world to rights over drinks and lunch but, sadly, Zimbabwe is still in turmoil despite our efforts! The Chamarel Falls are lovely. This area also has the only coffee plantation in Mauritius. The Seven Earths are an amazing sight - this is volcanic rock which has cooled are various temperatures and left different colours and hues in the rocks. Nothing will grow here as the mineral content is too high so one sees the bare rock in all it's glorious shapes, angles and colours.

Taxi or Bus to Grande Bay?
We decided to take a taxi but could not get our previous driver and this one sort of ripped us off as the ride was not very long. Grand Bay is a bustling tourist town with many shops catering for the tourists, a lovely big supermarket for those doing self-catering, loads of hotels right on the beach, watersports on offer, restaurants and a busy beach. After wandering round the stalls we decided to get back to our own beach for a leisurely swim. We took the bus back - a bone-shaking experience but it gave us a taste of "local" services! We used the bus a few times and some drivers were great, very friendly and helpful and others were diabolical and drove like maniacs! I suppose it takes all sorts.

Most of the public beaches are well frequented by local families. You will find granny playing Blind Man's Bluff or some game or other, the men are all huddled together playing their card games and the ladies organise the picnics and the caching up on family news. Very busy but also very peaceful. We did not spot any unruly behaviour despite the large crowds.

Another favourite pastime for the local men, besides their card games, is horse racing! Their famous race track is outside of Port Louis and will be 200 years old in 2012. Obviously a pleasurable pastime for many.

A large part of our time was taken up swimming, canoeing or paddle-boating. We also took a glass-bottomed boat and the coral was amazing. Depending on your taste for action, there are many water-sports available, yacht trips, dives etc. The hotels all have evening entertainment which can vary from entertaining to "what a bore" - it just depends! We ended up with a singer one night who absolutely KILLED all our favourite songs. He would not have made the first round of any talent show! Hopefully, he has changed careers by now. Rain during the evening does not deter anybody - it pours for 10 - 15 mins, the dance floor is like a shallow pool, the staff all come along with brooms as soon as the rain stops, and hey presto, the floor is swept dry and the dancing continues! Amazing stuff.

There are many beaches that can be visited - we did explore quite a few. The water is so divine I could have slept in it! You have guessed - I do like warm water!

We loved our time in Mauritius, meeting the locals, doing some sight-seeing and just enjoying the sea (take plastic sandals for swimming in some parts)
We also enjoyed the birds visiting our balcony while we enjoyed our sundowners and spotted Red Whiskered Bulbul, little Sparrows, Myna bird (more cautious) and the cheekiest of them all, the Madagascan Fody - a beautiful red bird who was always on the look-out for food.

Whilst the Seychelles may be more glamorous and much more expensive, our experience of this small island was truly wonderful. A chap sitting on the plane behind us, on our way home, was totally sold on his annual holiday to Mauritius!

© Judelle Drake




                For Accommodation Cape Town, South Africa
                                      www.bradclin.com

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08 December 2011

South Africa - Cape Columbine Nature Reserve, West Coast

Cape Columbine Nature Reserve - Beach Camping!



The West Coast of South Africa is full of unusual surprises - where time sometimes seems to stand still and the lure of yesteryear beckons. Tietiesbaai, situated within the Cape Columbine Nature Reserve, just past Paternoster, is one such place. Cape Columbine was declared a Nature Reserve in 1973 and covers approx 263ha along this stretch of coast.


The last manually controlled lighthouse is within this reserve and it was built in 1936. Today it is surrounded by houses available for those week-enders who prefer the modern comforts! The lighthouse beam is visible for about 50 km.

The purists will love the camping at Tietiesbaai - any closer to the sea and you will get wet! The camp sites are spread out around the bay (above) and are truly in a "back to nature" spot. With no electricity and very basic ablutions, it remains extremely popular. Day Visitors are allowed into the Reserve and there is an entrance fee.


There are amazing rock formations in this area which just beg to be scrambled, great fishing spots, time to catch your own West Coast Lobster, or harvest fresh mussels off the rocks, sun-tanning or just sitting round the fire chatting to friends or family. It's a relaxing spot where time can stand still. There are also hiking trails within this region for those in need of more exercise!
Dolphins and whales can be seen along the coast at various times of the year and wild flowers are out during July - August.
Within the reserve there is also accommodation for those who don't have their own camping gear. It's called "The Beach Camp" and woe betide those who enter without a booking or out of plain curiosity! We did not dare to put it to the test given the stern warning at the entrance! Accommodation is in A-Frame huts or tents and it would be best to check out their rules before booking.

The "Seekombuis" is situated near the entrance gate to the reserve and is the brainchild of the owners who have done all the building work and design themselves with the assistance of 2 labourers. Very rustic and innovative - do pop in for a drink or pre-book a meal. They were very welcoming and showed us around with smiles! Not like "The Beach Camp" were one does not dare even enter!


One idea that we thought was very innovative is their use of old rowing boats as restaurant tables - what could be better than sitting in an old boat, enjoying the sea breezes and some cold beer? They will have umbrellas up on hot days! The shell work adorning the area has been painstakingly done and truly reflects the spirit of the sea and beach. There are numerous other tables scattered around, all with views of the sea. So it is fittingly called the Seekombuis = The Sea Kitchen. With a lovely beach just below for the kids to work off their energy, moms and dads can enjoy a leisurely break. 

Cape Columbine Lighthouse in the far distance (Above)

The roads within the reserve are untarred but can be managed by a normal car, albeit sometimes a rather bumpy ride!
 Enjoy!

© Judelle Drake



                For Accommodation Cape Town, South Africa
                                      www.bradclin.com

Going Green.......and our Carbon Footprint

Carbon Footprint? Those words would most probably have meant very dirty feet from playing outdoors if used 20 - 30 years ago! 

Going Green? This would most probably have meant - get out of the way quick, he is going to be sick!

Today it is a buzz word that has everybody talking as we try to reduce our carbon footprint on the world. We all love our modern gadgets, we love travelling the globe and one has to wonder what the buzz words will be in 30 - 40 years time?

Will we have saved our planet? Or will somebody be saying:
"In my day, we had gardens with beautiful flowers, I just hate all this desert sand under my feet now"

The words below came to me on e-mail and with all our efforts today to "Save our Planet", seminars on "Going Green", entire web sites devoted to "Going Green" and our "Carbon Footprint" - I just have to share this with you. 

"Checking out at the store, the young cashier suggested to the older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment.

The woman apologized and explained, "We didn't have this green thing back in my earlier days."

The clerk responded, "That's our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations."

She was right -- our generation didn't have the green thing in its day or didn't call it "green."

Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled. But we didn't have the green thing back in our day.

We walked up stairs, because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. But she was right. We didn't have the green thing in our day.

Back then, we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throw-away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 220 volts -- wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. But that young lady is right. We didn't have the green thing back in our day.

Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Montana . In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. But she's right. We didn't have the green thing back then.

We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. But we didn't have the green thing back then.

Back then, people took the streetcar or a bus, and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 2,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest pizza joint."

Author Unknown


Makes one think?

So let's all try and do some small thing to save our planet for future generations.

Judelle Drake



                For Accommodation Cape Town, South Africa
                                      www.bradclin.com




 

01 December 2011

South Africa - Paternoster, West Coast




Paternoster
WEST COAST SOUTH AFRICA




Seagull - Paternoster

Quaint Fishing Village
We all look for those special places where it seems that time stands still. Those wonderful old shops where just about everything is sold with the smell of freshly baked bread assailing the nostrils as one enters. Live crayfish available from the fishermen as they bring in their boats ... Paternoster, on the West Coast of South Africa is such a place. This is one of the oldest fishing villages on the West Coast and remains unspoilt still. The "Winkel op Paternoster" is housed in a building which was originally a whaling station. Although the village has changed from the very tiny fishing village of yesteryear, the charm remains due to strict building regulations and gorgeous white-washed cottages with blue trim. Some are more ornate than others but all blend into something that pleases the eye no matter where in the village you wander.

Die Winkel op Paternoster
The beach is long and wide and just begs to be  walked - it goes on for miles and miles if you have the stamina and a few water bottles. At low tide, the beach is a pleasure for walking - firm sand and those far-away vistas. The water is cold but after walking for miles, a quick dip in the sea is ideal to cool off those heels!

Wide Beach - Paternoster
Fishermen still ply their trade from these shores and it is always great fun to watch the boats coming in. Many of these guys are so totally plastered (drunk)by the time they stand alongside the road selling their wares that one has to wonder how much of their "catch" goes straight into the local bottle store coffers and how much goes home to feed their families.  The crayfish season lasts during the summer months, November to April (the exact period is regulated) so fresh crayfish is a "must buy" in the village if you are staying for a few days and have your own self-catering apartment. Or try one of the restaurants in the village.Should you wish to dive yourself, a permit is required.

Seagulls waiting for scraps - Paternoster

The local hotel building was built in 1863 and changed to an hotel in 1940. An institution in Paternoster, this hotel is always well patronised. Do pop into the "Panty" bar to see the collection of panties and bras which adorn the place! The original collection had to be taken down after a Minister called in for "tea" and reported the collection as "unholy" The latest collection stems from the 90's and hangs from every part of the ceiling. One has to wonder how many drinks are required before stripping and handing over bras and panties!! Those walls must hold many hilarious tales.

Do take time to wander into the few small shops - their stock is interesting!!

Paternoster se Padstal
There are a number of restaurants in the village - we ate at Skatkis in Paternoster Lodge where I enjoyed Sole Capricio - with balsamic cherry tomatoes and roasted almonds. Really tasty and an interesting variation on plain grilled sole.

Seaside Homes - Paternoster
A walk around the village may tempt you into thinking of buying a holiday home but it's far easier to rent one of the many Self-Catering cottages available. There are also numerous B&B's if that option sounds preferable. With a variety of restaurants to choose from, you won't go hungry.
This village has it all - tranquil yet vibey, back to nature, yet with all mod cons, gorgeous beach with the added attraction of fishing boat activity, seagulls to wake you up, lapping waves to lull you to sleep.

What more could one ask for?

Paternoster Beach

© Judelle Drake



                For Accommodation Cape Town, South Africa
                                      www.bradclin.com

22 November 2011

Cape Town - Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens

KIRSTENBOSCH - PRIDE OF THE CAPE





Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens are anything but boring! Watch the Sunday lovers snuggled up under a tree, order a Gourmet Picnic to be enjoyed on rolling lawns or just simply soak up the pleasure of amazing freedom, flora unique to the Cape, and those magnificent views of Eastern Table Mountain.


Kirstenbosch is not a tourist trap - it's uniqueness is enjoyed by all Capetonians and everybody welcomes visitors - we cannot be selfish and keep these wondrous gardens all to ourselves!

A part of the garden hosts many varied African Sculptures - mainly in the Shona tradition from Zimbabwe. They range from huge to smaller and all are available for sale if you want something truly unique. Sculptures change as some are sold so there is always something new to look at. Art exhibitions are held regularly in the hall (free entry) it's a great opportunity to buy a South Africans artists work.


For colour in the gardens August to October is usually best as many of the "fynbos" plants flower during this time. However, every season has it's own brand of beauty so there is never a "wrong" time to visit. Perhaps when the Cape rains set in for the day, it would be best to seek a warm fire and some hearty soup!


The origin of the name Kirstenbosch is not proven but seems to relate to the Kirsten family. The estate went through many years of neglect until the Botanical Society was formed in 1913 - many years of hard work have resulted in the magnificent gardens that we see today.

The walks are all paved until you get further up the mountain onto the hiking trails such as Skeleton Gorge, Nursery Ravine or Silvermine Trail. For the fitness fanatics, these are great runs up the mountain!!!! Do take care as the trails can be slippery and always walk in a group.

Kirstenbosch is a Unesco World Heritage site and covers 36 hectares so don your walking shoes to enjoy all the parts of the garden, such as the Fragrance Garden, the Protea Gardens, the Erica Garden, Cycad Amphitheatre, the Dell and the old Camphor trees in Camphor Avenue which were organised/planted by Cecil John  Rhodes way back in 1890's. Guided Tours are available Mondays - Saturdays.

Summer Concerts on Sundays are a must - sitting on the vast expanse of lawn with hundreds of other like-minded people who are settled with their picnics and drinks to enjoy music with a difference in the gardens.

There are 2 restaurants in the gardens but our favourite remains the Kirstenbosch Tea Room where you can enjoy breakfasts, light meals, gorgeous sandwiches with a difference or English Tea for Two!

Don't miss Kirstenbosch!

© Judelle Drake

http://www.flickr.com/photos/bradclinphotography


                For Accommodation Cape Town, South Africa
                                      www.bradclin.com

21 November 2011

My Ireland Dream - Land of Leprechauns!

My Ireland Dream
After weeks of planning and research, we are finally at the airport ready to board our SAA Flight 220 to Heathrow. Great excitement, totally hyped up, as I always am just before a long flight, we enter the SAA Business lounge at Cape Town International. Here the atmosphere is very subdued, with all quietly munching away, sipping drinks, reading and looking generally bored with life! Not my scene at all, the main departure hall at least looks livelier with the odd foreign accent to remind us that we will soon be listening to that lovely Irish lilt! Talking of Lilt, have you ever tried the cool drink by that name in the UK and Ireland? Really a stunning combination of flavours, just tingles the taste buds!

After a good flight we land at Heathrow, my favourite airport! Our flight to Dublin with British Midland takes off late but is hassle-free and a piping hot Panini goes down well. A 50 minute flight and we set foot on Irish soil for the first time! The soft yet soaking rain welcomes us to Ireland and makes me wetter than I have ever been! Needless to say, we are the only fools without an umbrella! We check into our hotel, Pembroke Townhouse Hotel in Ballsbridge and then set out on foot to locate the bus for the Dublin City Tour. We flag down the wrong bus but the driver, seeing our drenched state, kindly drops us off at the correct bus stop.

Dublin
Our first stop is at Dublinia which houses an exhibition of life during the medieval times in Dublin. Christ Church Cathedral stands on a site where a wooden church was erected around 1030. The Cathedral is Dublin’s oldest building, has a magnificent organ, beautiful stained glass windows and the world’s largest full-circle peal of bells – 19 in all. Dublin has survived a turbulent history with many years of decline particularly after the 1798 uprising when Britain dissolved the Irish Parliament. Dublin
began to revive in the early 1990’s after two centuries of decline and today is known as the Celtic Tiger. The Spire of Dublin dominates O’Connell Street, tram lines are being built and planning application notices are attached to railings all over the city.

 We walk around Grafton Street which is very lively, being a pedestrian area and stop off at one of the many pubs in Dublin for an early supper. I opted for the roast turkey and ham which was served with no less than 4 different types of cooked potatoes! Something tells me the Irish love their spuds!
 
It was a Friday night in Dublin and the business guys and gals were out in force, congregating on the pavements with beers in hand. (The rain had cleared by this time)
The cell phone providers must do a roaring trade in Ireland as the Irish people seem to chat to each other all the time. After all that potato, we needed dessert so wandered further and found a lovely café where we had delicious dessert and about 4 cups of tea! A long walk back to our hotel after a busy first day in Dublin where, despite the traffic noise from our room, we crashed.   
               
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           
Day 2 – Dublin
Started our day with a good breakfast – in fact this hotel did the best omelette in all of Ireland – but the staff were anything but Irish! Reminds me of our sojourns at the Bayswater Hotel in Bayswater, London where you are lucky to hear an English word spoken. Our first stop today is the Guinness Storehouse where we discovered the entrepreneurship of Arthur Guinness and tasted our first (and my last!) pint of Guinness.
                                                      
"On the last day of December 1759 a determined young man named Arthur Guinness rode through the gate of an old, dilapidated ill-equipped brewery sited on a small strip of land on Dublin's James's Street. He had just signed a lease on the property for 9,000 years at 45 per annum. His friends shook their heads in disbelief. For ten years, Mark Rainsford's Ale Brewery (for such it was) had been on the Market and nobody had shown any interest in it. The Street was already festooned with similar small breweries, all attracted to this spot by a good supply of water. Throughout the city of Dublin there were about 70 breweries at that time, all, it must be assumed, small. Mr. Guinness's newly acquired brewery was no more than average. But Arthur was about to change all of that. He was 34 years old. He knew that the products of this teeming, almost domestic, industry were highly unsatisfactory. Trade fell off badly when import regulations which favoured the London Porter breweries, were prolonged. At that time, beer was almost unknown in rural Ireland where whiskey, gin and poteen were the alcoholic drinks most readily available. In spite of this and the poor quality of beer available in larger centres like Dublin, it was recognised, paradoxically, that brewing - although constantly under threat from imports - was probably the most prosperous of the very few industries in Ireland at that time. In addition to ales, Arthur Guinness brewed a beer relatively new to Ireland that contained roasted barley which gave it a characteristically dark colour. This brew became known as "porter" so named because of its popularity with the porters and stevedores of Covent Garden and Billingsgate in London. "Porter" had been developed in London some years earlier and was imported into Dublin to the detriment of local brews. Arthur Guinness finally had to choose between porter and the traditional Dublin ales. Deciding to tackle the English brewers at their own game, Arthur tried his hand at porter. He brewed the deep, rich beverage so well that he eventually ousted all imports from the Irish market, captured a share of the English trade and revolutionised the brewing industry. The word Stout was added in the early 1820's as an adjective, qualifying the noun "porter". An "extra stout porter" was a stronger and fuller bodied variety. "Stout" evolved as a noun in its own right, as did the family name of Guinness. In 1825 Guinness Stout was available abroad, and by 1838, Guinness' St. James's Gate Brewery was the largest in Ireland. In 1881, the annual production of Guinness brewed had surpassed one million barrels a year and by 1914, St. James's Gate was the world's largest brewery. Today, Arthur Guinness would have been proud of St. James's Gate. No longer the largest (although still the largest Stout brewery) it is certainly one of the most modern breweries. Guinness is now also brewed in 35 countries around the world, but all these overseas brews must contain a flavoured extract brewed here at St. James's Gate. So the very special brewing skills of Arthur's brewery, remain at the heart of every one of the 10 million glasses of Guinness enjoyed every day across the world."
We also saw how the art of “Coopering “It is one of man’s most important inventions and coopers have been making them for thousands of years. Highly skilled, taking years to refine their art, Coopers were in high demand. Really fascinating to watch how the barrels were made and put together to form a water-tight seal.

Next we walked within the grounds of Trinity College – if only those walls could talk!
TRINITY College is the oldest university in Ireland. Founded in 1592 by Queen Elizabeth I, the College is in an enviable position in the very heart of Ireland’s capital and in 1992 celebrated 400 years. Trinity College on its 40 acre site retains some of its ancient seclusion and its cobbled squares, gardens and parks have a tranquil atmosphere compared to the bustling streets outside. The campus contains a unique collection of buildings dating from the 17th to the 20th century.
The College is famed for the great treasures it has the honour to be guardian off. These include the BOOK OF KELLS, a 9th century illuminated manuscript, the books of Durrow and Armagh and an early Irish harp. These are displayed in The Colonnades exhibition Gallery and the Long Room which is the most impressive library in the College housing over 200,000 of Trinity’s oldest books.
                     
Our next stop was the Temple Bar area which buzzes with people, café’s, interesting shops and has a vibe distinctly it’s own. You just have to enjoy a drink in Temple Bar!

St Stephens Green, is a beautiful park in central Dublin.
St Stephans’s Park has a photographic display along the railings very similar in concept to Hyde Park in London. Mostly Irish scenes but as we had not yet explored Ireland in any depth, we did not succumb to temptation! I had not yet met The Little People – maybe things would have turned out differently if they had taken over my thoughts at that stage!

We saw some stunning photographs of Table Mountain, Soussousvlei Dunes, Namibia, and excellent wildlife shots. The photographer, an Irishman, visits Africa on an annual basis and just loves it – his photography certainly shows his love for Africa, its scenery, and wildlife. The Sealink Express, which ran aground in our first storm of a much delayed winter, was still stranded aground off Sunset beach in Milnerton at this stage and we feel he was very tempted to fly to Cape Town to get this unusual shot of Table Mountain! We never did get to photograph this as she was pulled off by the John Ross salvage tug the night before we arrived back home! In the park there were many young people lolling about in the sun, old men chatting to each other, mothers with pushchairs, toddlers running free and a general air of well being prevailed amidst a very peaceful and tranquil setting. The flowers in Ireland were amazing; truly brighten the streets, the buildings, and the spirits of all who gaze upon them adding such a splash of colour to those grey days, which seem to outnumber the sunny ones. Our time in Dublin was drawing to a close but we had gained some knowledge of this vibrant city teeming with shops, historical buildings, people, buskers, pubs (about 752 in the Dublin area we were told!) but we decided that a ride on the Dart train to Howth was a good idea so off we set again. The poor feet and legs were taking strain by now as we had walked EVERYWHERE so a train ride was sounding increasingly tempting. I had to really convince James that it would be worth the effort as he was ready to collapse on his hotel bed – no staying power at all!

The nearest Dart to our hotel was only a short walk away through a very pleasant area. Apparently, Ballsbridge is one of the most expensive areas in Dublin. The Dart station was Lansdowne Road next to the famous rugby stadium of the same name. The train goes at a fast pace with the countryside hurtling by but the feet were saying, “Thank you, we have served enough for one day” Little did they know!  Howth was busy with people taking a stroll along the sea, as the weather was being kind with blue sky. We walked around the village much to the disgust of “The Feet” but in the end had to succumb to their plaintive cries. We found a lovely Italian restaurant called “Porto Fino” in Harbour Road where we drank beer (not Irish!) and ate well.  Our trip back on the Dart was too short but quite entertaining watching two young guys trying to pick up two girls. They chickened out when one of the guys asked if he could visit with his CD collection and seemed to heave a sigh of relief when they got off at the next station. Irish girls are very hip with their earrings and rings through ears, eyelids etc.          

We say good-bye to Dublin as we collect our car from Hertz – a Fiat Punto with sunroof!  We spoke to an Australian couple who were also touring – her husband is also called James! Then another couple arrived and he was called James – three at Hertz within the space of 30 minutes. Must have been a popular name around the late 1950’s! We settle in and head off towards the Wicklow Mountains.

Our little car is great fun, we open the sunroof to let the breeze in – no rain today – praise be. Suddenly, before us on the highway we see a tractor trundling along. There must be some mistake, I say, this farmer has lost his way. Tractors, bicycles, and people do not belong on highways. Oh how wrong I was. Everywhere we went in Ireland, we saw the strangest sights on the highways, byways and little village lanes. Tractors became such a common sight that I missed them when we arrived back in (civilized!) Cape Town. Bicycles being ridden in the pouring rain with the riders looking as if they really wished they had died and gone to heaven. Even on the “good” days, the cyclists looked unhappy – all those deceptive looking little Irish hills! Towards the end of our trip, I could no longer contain myself and asked a friendly, local lady if she really meant that the day was “fine” when the sky was bleak and grey and an icy wind was blowing. Oh aye, to be sure tis a fine day – tis’nt raining is it? A “good” day to be sure!

Powerscourt House & Glendalough:
Our first stop of the day was at Powerscourt House and gardens approx 19km south of Dublin.
The original house built in the 18th century burnt down in 1974. 
The gardens are magnificent and include a Japanese garden laid out in 1908, an Italian garden which was started in 1840 and took 100 men and 12 years to complete.
             
We carry on along a very scenic road and find some cars parked. Curiosity gets the better of us so we get out to take a look. At first, we can see nothing and presume it must be the start of a hiking trail but as we walk further towards the edge, we find a beautiful little valley with a river running through and a lovely private beach. Lucky farmer! But as usual, tis a fine day in Ireland.      
The road we took to Glendalough was very narrow and bumpy but this was really our first introduction to the country roads of Ireland. That is how they are – narrow and so bumpy in a way that makes your intestines feel that they will never untangle ever again. The verges have the most amazing hedges, fuchsias, and blackberries growing alongside the roads and this, in part, makes up for the continual discomfort. After a really bumpy ride, stop the car and pick some ripe blackberries or just gaze in wonder at the magnificent fuchsias that you cannot get to grow at home no matter how much you talk to them, water them, and feed them! Nothing to beat it for an instantaneous lift!
A Christian monk, St Kevin, established a monastery in the beautiful setting of Glendalough, Glen of the two lakes, in the 6th Century. This is a beautiful place, full of mystery but also full of tourists. It is apparently one of the most visited places in Ireland but given its history and historical remains a definite must see.

"The wildlife is central to the story of St. Kevin. The most often told story is of Kevin adopting the position of the tree/cross for meditation. He stood with his hands upturned with total silence and lack of movement. The hand near the window was noticed by a blackbird who laid her eggs in his hand. Kevin remained in position until the eggs had hatched and the baby birds had flown. Seamus Heaney writes a poem about this event and explores the relationship between meaning and myth. In Glendalough, reality also falls in to the equation and familiar sounding myths can be considered in an environment hardly changed since the day that the stories were first recounted. St. Kevin was said to have spent one hour praying in the lake every day and to have fought a great serpent that attacked him and wrapped itself round his whole body. Taken in conjunction with the stories we hear about his effect on the local ladies and his battles to resist the temptations they offered we can start to come closer to the purpose of metaphors that may seem at other times (such as with George and the Dragon) to be trite.

Comment from Eimear - Monday, November 4 2002, 03:53 pm
I live in Glendalough and there are many enchanting myths, including the one of how a woman named Cathleen became obsessed with St. Kevin after he became a monk, apparently she followed him everywhere and enraged him so much that he threw her into the lake where she drowned! Many locals claim to hear Cathleen's cries to this day." 
             
Many families were taking advantage of the blue skies and were out in force with their picnic blankets. Some were playing ball games with their children, some just taking advantage of the sun – yes, the sun actually did come out and the day was truly lovely. After we had had supper, there were still families on the lawns showing great reluctance to pack up and head for home. Justified, when you get such a grand day!


Our stay in the Glendalough Hotel was lovely, good food, friendly staff and at 8am the next morning we were the only souls about. Nobody in Ireland seems to rise early; many shops stay tightly shut until 10am.

From Gendalough we headed towards Laragh, Rathdrum, Avoca, Arklow, Gorey,EnnisCorthy, and New Ross.
           
We visited the reconstructed Dunbrody Emigrant ship and I felt seasick and claustrophobic just standing inside. What hardships these people suffered can only be imagined, many of them never to see dry land again. We have too many comforts these days and cannot begin to envisage what the Irish went through during the famine years of 1845 – 1850.The bunks were small and dark and entire families slept in together in one bunk.   I found a certificate of a Bridget Kean who arrived in New York in 1867 after leaving Ireland at the tender age of 20.
We continue our journey feeling quite humbled by the experience of the plight of the Irish so our stop at Waterford Crystal leaves us totally unemotional and not in buying mode. Although the crystal is beautiful so are the prices and we decided to leave it to all the rich Americans and Germans and we hang on to our precious Euros for another few hours. A vase at E154.00 was TOO MUCH!
                             
       If you have ever driven in Ireland you will know how frustrating one’s first experience of getting lost in Ireland can be. After all, we are all mature adults from well-signposted countries and we were quite dumb struck that we could not find Dungarvon Castle. This was the first of many such experiences and many heated arguments. I eventually seemed to master the Irish system so James could not understand why I kept telling him he was going the wrong way when he had diligently obeyed the signs. I think it must have been my great-great-grandfather, born in Tralee, whispering to me that the Irish are confused. I think it’s from all that Guinness that they consume under the impression that “Guinness is good for you” If ever there was a good marketing strategy this one must take top honours as the Irish still believe this after centuries of staggering home to a very irate wife. However, we did come across this view from the top of the hill where the sky and the sea blend into one and the wind nearly turned us into ice-cubes, but hey, this is fun, not so?

Our next turn off was to view what I read as “Ireland’s Tiniest Village” Great, this is what we came to Ireland to find – all these quaint little villages in way out places. We drive, drive, and eventually reach a town of fairly large proportions. Have we taken a wrong turning again? No, we are in fact in Ardmore but it is certainly not tiny. We spot another sign and dash up to find that it reads “Ireland’s TIDIEST town” What a let down but consolation was on the way when we discovered another Round Tower just like the one in Glendalough. It is claimed that St Declan established the first Christian settlement in Ireland here. The church dates back to 1203.
The tower is 12th century and still in good condition with a stunning view in all directions.
Yougal, Cork & Cobh:              
Yougal, pronounced Yawl, is an old town having been founded in the 13th century by the Anglo-Normans, maybe on an earlier Danish site. I wish I could have bottled the smells of Ireland but alas, this technology is not yet available. Not that I know of anyway! The town smelt really old; add to that the fumes of a Bank Holiday traffic jam and we really did not want to linger. The mothers were out on the pavements with their children – most Irish lassies seem to have at least three – chattering about heaven only knows what whilst the fathers were nowhere to be seen. Maybe keeping their health in good shape with some of that “good for you” Guinness.  A forlorn figure of foreign origin was playing his puppet band and looking weary so we tossed him some of our Euros. The smile of thanks that lit his face was so spontaneous it seemed to take ten years off his age.
           
Had we known how we would suffer trying to find our hotel in Cork, I think we would also have headed off to have some of the “good” stuff! We certainly needed it as we battled in the traffic in Cork and got hopelessly lost, ending up on the opposite side of Cork to where we needed to be. Eventually, really rattled, we managed to get good directions from a local and found the hotel in the opposite direction. The Maryborough House Hotel is a lovely hotel in leafy surroundings in Douglas. We were greeted with some much-needed punch. At that stage, we could have drunk the whole bowl but being conservative South Africans, we restrained ourselves! The rooms were spacious, tea & coffee waiting to be made, lovely thick toweling gowns just inviting one to take a shower so that they could be tried on for size! A good dinner plus excellent service helped to lessen the traffic frustration – until the next morning anyway! The breakfast was a let down; I tried about 4 plates before I found one that looked reasonably clean, the scrambled eggs must have been the worst I have ever tasted. Not a good start to the day but ever optimistic we set off to the local shopping center in Douglas to find a new memory stick for my camera. A very friendly assistant finds one for us and we order two more for collection the following day. We also end up buying two umbrellas in the local supermarket, Tesco’s, as the rain looks set to carry on for the entire day.

 We head towards the ferry to take us across the river to Cobh. The ferry costs is minimal, is very quick, and runs all the time until quite late at night. Cobh has a fascinating history and the Queenstown Story tells it all. In the rain, this is a good way to while away a few hours.


Cobh, pronounced Cove, was named Queenstown (after Queen Victoria) from 1849 until 1922. It is situated on Great Island, one of the three islands in Cork Harbour and the only one that we had time to visit. As well as being the last port that many Irish emigrants saw, it was also the last port of call for the Titanic in 1912. Of the 143 passengers who boarded her at Cobh only 44 survived. In 1915, the Luisitania was torpedoed by a German submarine with a great loss of life. This brought the USA into the First World War. Cobh was a major port until the advent of air travel and is now a very pretty port of call for tourists from all over the world. It has a beautiful cathedral, St Colman’s, which was completed in 1915 after commencing in 1860! The rows of terraced houses interspersed with tiny shops are a delight to wander around even in the rain! We even spy a South African flag flying proudly from one of the windows in the square – I wonder if they miss the blue South African sky?

We set off to the ferry once more and head towards Blarney. This was an exercise in pure frustration, with bumper-to-bumper traffic in Cork again. After about an hour of this and getting nowhere fast, we eventually managed to turn around and head back to the hotel. We must be the only visitors to Ireland not to kiss the Blarney Stone and do you know why? Because Cork is set to become the European Capital of Culture in 2005 and they are presently digging up everything in sight to lay the Cork Main Drainage System, the largest environmental scheme ever undertaken in Ireland. Does the travel agent tell us this? Oh no, we found out all by ourselves. I really do not care what Cork will look like in 2005 and how visitor friendly it will be then, I was in the here and now and unable to move at more than snail’s pace. Do we need traffic jams on holiday? NO! Had we known in advance, Cork would not have seen us for dust. But then you do not get dust in Ireland it is too wet. The shop assistants and customers in Douglas village shopping center eased our frustration by telling us that Blarney was not actually worth a visit so we felt better. One lady told us that she had booked her ticket to South Africa for E599.00 and was looking forward to her trip in 2004. We hope she has many positive experiences in sunny SA. On arrival back in our room at 4pm, we find it just as untidy as we left it at 8.30am. More frustration! What is it with the Irish – this is a 4 star hotel, nogal! Eventually, the chappie arrives full of apologies, explaining that they have a staff shortage. I’m not surprised; I would also have just curled up and gone back to bed after seeing the morning rain but you would think they would be used to it by now. He compensates by being very chatty and offers us some extra biscuits for our tea. I am pacified instantly! After my dose of caffeine and choc chip cookies, I head off to visit the Swedish massage parlour in the hotel. While my back was being massaged, I heard all about the “Biltong” Club in Cork. The masseuse is married to a South African from Pretoria and lived in SA for 20 years. She says the number of South Africans in Ireland is growing but they don’t seem to be absorbed totally into the Irish culture and get together on a regular basis to compare notes and have a “lekker skinner” The Irish came across to us as having a very strong identity, a wonderful love of music, great singing voices and all the time in the world. After their tough history of starvation and poverty, this is quite understandable and it cannot be easy to be accepted into their circles. We are not talking pub circles here – enough Guinness and everybody is your greatest buddy!

After another grotty breakfast, omelette this time, we head out of Cork. Well so we thought! Wrong direction again but eventually we find the road to Kinsale. A pretty little town which apparently has very good restaurants and a statue.
Model Railway Village at Clonakilty – The West Cork of the 1940’s
       
James was in his element at this model railway village with the little trains choo-chooing along! The village is very well done with people, cattle, houses, and an isolated Irish cottage and, of course, the stations and moving trains. He dashed from side to side with the video oohing and aaahing and I’m sure if I had disappeared at this point I would not have been missed until his stomach told him it was time to eat again. As we had not yet found the “little people” he would have been really puzzled! Maybe I’d done an Alice in Wonderland and fallen down a hole? Hopefully, he would have been distraught enough not to go and find a good Irish lass in the next pub.

Around the Coast:
We follow, or rather we try to follow, the coastal road to Skibberdene and Bantry. Tractors are so commonplace in Ireland that we truly missed them when we got home. The traffic snarl-ups that they cause are amazing and you have to learn to accept the slower pace of life in Ireland or go stark staring mad within two days. We were rather slow to learn to chill out after the busy pace in Cape Town – OK,OK,Vaalies, maybe not as fast as you, but 120% faster than in Ireland! However, this cannot be a bad thing and surely must lesson the risk of a heart attack at 49! By the end of the holiday, I was so laid back and into the swing of things that my children would not have recognized me.
           
We saw wonderful views of the Beara peninsula and Whiddy Island before reaching Glengariff where the huge Eccles Hotel dominates the scene. We had not intended to drive around the Beara Peninsula
but in Ireland one tends to do the unexpected without quite knowing why. It was the forerunner of our Irish peninsula trips. Very pretty, narrow roads, lots of modern houses but also abandoned old cottages as a reminder of the famine years.
            
We take the narrow road to the cable car for Durnsey Island. Although it was already heading towards late afternoon there were still people queuing to take the cable car across the sea to the island. It would have been good to spend a day traipsing across Durnsey but we needed to push on towards Killarney.

Killarney:
The drive to Kenmare is on truly narrow roads but well worth the extra time as the scenery was beautiful. We stopped just before Killarney to see the views of the lakes in this area.
We check in at the 4* Muckross Park Hotel, a beautiful old building, well decorated and with a helicopter waiting to take the very well-heeled guests golfing. Our bed is huge and the room has a lovely view over the gardens and the helicopter pad! We had the set menu in the dining room – good food and excellent service. After a drive around Killarney, which was full of tourists, we returned to the hotel for our first taste of some traditional Irish music and what great fun that was! Molly d’Arcy’s pub seems to attract quite a local following and they were very entertaining to watch. Kids running around with streams of toilet paper, adults engrossed in their conversations, some serious drinkers trying to stay upright on the bar stools. When the musicians started playing the little kids ranging in age from 2 – 8 years, dashed up to a front table, sat chins in hand totally engrossed in the music for about 2 minutes then they dropped from their stools and carried on with the toilet paper game. The parents remained totally oblivious to the fact that the loo’s would be paperless and ordered another round. Suddenly, back they dashed to their chairs and sat for another 3minutes or so all eyes and ears on the musicians! Eventually, the parents saw the paper trail and hauled them off.  
                          
We are booked into our hotel for 3 nights as we have much to see and do in Killarney. Although it is a tourist trap, the natural beauty of the area is worth the stay and if you are not staying in Killarney itself you can avoid the feeling that you are just a number in the tourist statistics.  It also pays to ask the locals and not just rely on the guide books and tourist brochures. Our hotel receptionist told us that we could do the “Gap of Dunloe” by car – the pamphlets said take a tour which would last about 6 hours and cost lots of euros! We set off early after breakfast to avoid the pony traps with all those statistics in them. A very winding and narrow road but after driving around the Beara Peninsula we were already very blasé about the whole thing! I did not feel that the scenery was as spectacular as New Zealand but had we had sunshine all the way, maybe we would have seen it all in a different light.       
               
A very cold wind was blowing and I was ever so thankful that I was not in a pony trap! We reached the bottom of the valley known as Black Valley which has houses and a school. Talk about isolation! We also came across our first peat bog which James had filmed from up above the previous night thinking that the bags were sheep! I was really excited at this sight having read so many novels over the years mentioning the peat bogs. A great sense of peace was present in the valley and were sorry when the joined the main road again.
Our next ride was a Jaunting Car! We succumb to total tourist rip-off and allow this rather morose Jaunting Car driver to take us to the waterfall in the park. I don’t even want to tell you how much he charged us because it is so ludicrous! He was not even very informative about the park, his horse or anything in fact! As a non-communitive Irishman I think he takes the prize! Maybe it was a bad hair day which would explain the hat! He managed to chat to his buddies while we strolled to the waterfall though. Most probably counting how many loonies willing to part with their hard-earned Euro’s in the park on that day. Oh well, you can’t escape totally all the time and I suppose he has a band of little Irish toilet paper chasers back home waiting eagerly to share some of the spoils.                                                         
Muckross House is very large and larny. The kitchens have the most amazing collection of copper pots and pans but unfortunately no photos were allowed. Wish I could have brought some home – just what I have been looking for, for my kitchen!
"If mountain, wood and water harmoniously blent, constitute the most perfect and adequate loveliness that nature presents, it surely must be owned, that it has, all the world over, no superior."
Alfred Austin. (Quote 1900’s)

Central to Killarney National Park are the world famous Lakes of Killarney, which make up almost a quarter of the Park's area. The three lakes are known as the Upper Lake, Muckross Lake (Middle Lake) and Lough Leane (Lower Lake), and are joined at the 'meeting of the waters', a popular area for visitors to the Park. It is here that the Old Weir Bridge (thought to be over 400 years old) can also be seen. From the meeting of the waters a narrow channel known as the Long Range leads to the Upper Lake, which is the smallest of the lakes but set in the most spectacular location, in the heart of the rugged mountain scenery of the upper Killarney Valley/Black Valley area. The sandstone and blanket bog of the catchment area means that the Upper and Middle Lakes are slightly acidic and low in nutrients (oligotrophic). A fast run-off in the mountainous catchment also means that in heavy rain the level of the entire Upper Lake can sometimes rise by up to a metre in a matter of a few hours.
Muckross Lake is the deepest of the lakes with a maximum depth of approximately 75 metres (250 feet) close to where the steeply sloping face of Torc Mountain enters the lake. Both Muckross Lake and Lough Leane lie astride the sandstone/limestone boundary, and the presence of limestone means that both of these lakes are slightly richer in natural nutrients than the Upper Lake. At lake level, there are many caves in the limestone which are formed by the dissolution effect of acidic waters on the exposed rock, especially when combined with wave action. Nowhere are these caves more marked than on the northern shore of Muckross Lake.
Lough Leane is by far the largest of the three lakes, at approximately 19km², and is also the richest in nutrients. Organic pollution (particularly phosphates from domestic and agricultural sources) entering Lough Lean e has led to a partial eutrophication of the lake and several well publicised algal blooms have occurred in recent times. Although they can look unsightly, these blooms do not, as yet, appear to have had a severe effect on the natural life of the lake. If enrichment continues unabated however, the lake ecosystem may be altered to the extent that the character of the lake will permanently change, and a broadly-based review of land use within the entire catchment is therefore currently in progress in an effort to address the issue. A community-based initiative aimed at minimising the use of domestic and agricultural phosphates is also currently in progress, and it is hoped that a sustained effort will improve the water quality in years to come.
There are many Brown Trout in the lakes, in addition to an annual run of Salmon. Unusual fish species include the Arctic Char (usually found much further north, and thought to be a relict species left behind in Killarney after the last ice age) and the Killarney Shad (a land locked form of the Thwaite Shad unique to the Lakes of Killarney). The discovery of a small number of Roach a number of years ago, a potentially explosive breeder that was presumably introduced accidentally by visiting anglers, led to fears that the trout may be displaced in some parts of the lake however this fear has not materialised and Roach have not been recorded for several years.
Unfortunately, even 3 nights in Killarney were not enough, we could have spent far more time in these beautiful surroundings and in the Park itself. It is quite easy to get away from the “tourists” as the Park is large and most people don’t want to walk too far! However, Ross Castle was next on the agenda so after another missed turning and another u-turn we found the parking spot! What James would have done without power steering, I shudder to think!  The traffic in Killarney was quite bearable and always seemed to flow even with all the Jaunting cars on the roads. Lots of fertiliser for the tyres in Killarney – be careful if you are actually walking anywhere in this place – you could go home with more than you bargained for! We also found that the local lassies seemed to favour the “F” word – they would blithely pepper their sentences quite oblivious to passers-by. The shops were also on the make – a memory stick that cost me E89.90 in Cork was E100.00 in Killarney.

Ross Castle, County Kerry

"There are few castles anywhere in Ireland that can boast such a dream-like enchanted setting as this ruined tower house on the shore of Killarney's Lower Lake. Built in the late fifteenth century, it is fairly typical of its type, with square bartizans on diagonally opposite corners and a thick end wall containing a tier of chambers and a winding mural stair.
The tower stands within a square bawn defended by round corner towers, two of which survive, the others having been removed in 1688 to make room for an extension, the ruins of which remain on the south side of the castle.
The castle was the chief seat of the O'Donaghue Mors, hereditary rulers of this district and descendants of the ancient kings of Munster. After the Desmond rebellion their fortified lands were acquired by the MacCarthy Mors from whom they were purchased by Sir Valentine Browne, ancestor of the Earls of Kenmare. In 1652 the castle was held by Lord Muskerry against a Cromwellian force of 1,500 foot and 700 horse soldiers, commanded by Edmond Ludlow. It fell after floating batteries were brought over land to bombard it from the lough as well as from the land. The Brownes, who retained the old faith, remained in the castle until they lost their estates in 1690 for supporting the Jacobite cause. Although their lands were recovered around 1720, they were unable to regain possession of the castle, which had been taken over as a military barracks. They subsequently built a grand new house a little further to the north, close to the town, and in time the old castle was incorporated as a picturesque feature of its landscape park."

The Banqueting Hall is right at the top together with the communal toilet – the only one in the castle. Heaven help you if you had a urgent call to nature and were at the bottom of the very narrow, winding staircase! Tiny slit windows made it very secure. The beds were shorter than we know them because the occupants usually sat up to sleep as many of them suffered from asthma from the cold and damp. Can you imagine how cold, dark and damp it must have been inside with those tiny windows and no ELECTRICITY! I bumped my head very hard going through the small doors – thank goodness I was not a soldier in those times – my brain would have been beaten to a pulp.             
            
We had weddings on at hotel on two nights that we stayed there – during the week! The first night the best man passed out at 8pm and had to be carted off to his room while the party carried on as much in Molly D’Arcy’s as in the reception venue upstairs! Every now and again a couple of wedding guests would pop into the bar, order some drinks, chatter away and eventually saunter back to the reception! Some of the more well-oiled guests decided the pub was more fun so they promptly joined in with the two singers who eventually had to admit defeat and call a halt as they just could not compete with the volume at which these people were singing! They played a gentle accompaniment to this raucous noise with grins on their faces! We escaped for awhile to the more sober sounds of a lone singer at the Holiday Inn where the kids were out in full force again. However, this was actually too tame so we headed back to watch the antics before retiring to bed, shaking our heads.
At the wedding the following evening somebody kicked the chair from under the bride and she was taken off to hospital for X-rays! Charming people these Irish. On this night we watched in amazement as a group of gents kept drinking and talking, drinking and swaying. This could be fun; he is going to fall over. We watched with bated breath as the gentleman made a few unsuccessful attempts to get off his chair. Will he or won’t he? I could not stand the suspense any longer when he suddenly took a deep breath, stood up, stepped back and went whoops over and out! Flat on his back he landed with a thud, I shrieked out loud in mirth – it was just the funniest sight. His friends suddenly realised he was no longer in the chair – they looked around, spied him on the floor, collectively gathered around him, lifted him up and deposited him back in the chair without so much as missing a beat. This is local is lekker in Ireland! 

Do yourself a favour and visit this charming country = the people are entertaining, the countryside is great, the history is absorbing and there is never a dull moment.

IRELAND – The land of leprechauns and little people!

© Judelle Drake




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