Ireland: Feels Like Going Home
My journey to the Emerald Isle came to fruition in mid-July. After talking about going for years, I was finally on my way to discover the magic of this lovely and loving place, home to so many great writers, poets, and the folk music that truly feeds my soul. My list of what to see was too full, and since I only had one week, there was simply nothing to do but follow the flow of my heart as it beat together with my best friend, who was to meet me in Dublin.
We stayed the first few nights north of the River Liffey, just off O’Connell Street, in a cheap and scrappy hotel. Check out HotelClub for more Dublin hotels. We easily hopped on a city bus and took it down over the bridge into Temple Bar, where action abounds.
We began by trying to meet up with our lone contact in Dublin, a wonderfully friendly architect who is a friend of my sister. Ciaran gave us some pointers about places to see and things not to miss, and we took his advice and sought out both museums and pubs to fill our first day. We decided to start with the museums. Over the next few days we were mesmerized by the collections of several of Dublin’s treasured pasts. A highlight was the National Museum of Archeology and History, with its bog bodies from 2,000 to 3,000 years ago, its collection of gold from the same bogs, its mysteries about why these treasures were in the bogs...was it a way to honor the dead? Was it simply a coincidence that the gold adornments were in the same area? The bog bodies were perfectly preserved, down to the beard stubble on one man’s face! Eerie but fascinating, we couldn’t stop asking the questions. The museum also displayed Stone Age tools and weapons as well as Bronze Age jewels and silver, and is in a wonderfully compact space, where one can see all exhibits within a few hours.
My favorite exhibit was in an annex of the National Museum, and featured an amazing historical and personal exposition on Ireland’s most famous poet, W.B. Yeats. A marvelous multimedia presentation of a tormented genius, the display reveals a man obsessed with a woman who became his muse, albeit due to unrequited love. Included were his notebooks where he composed drafts of poems – oh, the excitement of a writer to be so close to such objects! Also intriguing was a video description of Yeats’ interest and understanding of past life experiences, mystics, and the soulful power of nature. This exhibit created, for me, a rich and luminous perspective of this 19th century master writer/poet.
Another splendid experience was the Hugh Lane Gallery, where Francis Bacon’s studio has been preserved. To me, Bacon is truly a pioneer in abstract expressionism. Although I’ve always admired his paintings, I knew very little about his life. The studio was moved from London to Dublin, undisturbed, after Bacon’s death. A video of an interview with Bacon from the mid-80’s illuminates the artist’s need for the clutter and chaos that the studio provides. He explains why he believes chaos is required for an artist to be completely free to create. Francis Bacon’s studio is definitely a “must see” for any artist (and aren’t we all?) while in Dublin!
And now, to the Irish pub experience, via Temple Bar in Dublin. As you may know, Temple Bar is full of tourists. Many times a bartender or owner would stand outside and shout, “Aye, Irish music inside!” and we would walk in only to hear renditions of Billy Joel or Elton John. Did they mean that the people singing were Irish? Perhaps. Many other times, the advertising was true. Traditional Irish musicians would gather in a reserved corner booth or a small stage, pull out their instruments, and perform both haunting ballads and lively dances. Irish bands typically consisted of a fiddle, guitar, a mandolin or bouzouki, a concertina, and a bodhran (drum). Sometimes a penny whistle would appear, or a pair of spoons. Often a singer would join in later, offering a crystalline voice that held everyone in the pub’s rapt attention, the beauty breathtaking – the lament all too real…
Luckily, we were able to find many “local” pubs, where tourists were a minority. We also traveled to the west coast of Ireland, to visit the small town of Doolin, renowned for its traditional music. Doing a pub crawl there was a walk among 2-3 places, and then back again. These pubs were delightful, full of energy. I noticed that a wide range of ages came to enjoy the music, and often the people dancing were the children. One of the things I loved seeing in the pubs was the presence of Irish families with young children. The families were so relaxed and happy, and the children were intrigued and inspired by the music. Their parents encouraged their expressions, and so they fully enjoyed themselves. I thought of how important the pub is to the Irish culture, how the children learn early about unwinding and having fun in an atmosphere of love and acceptance.
The drive to the countryside was an adventure on its own. In Ireland, the driver sits in the right side of the vehicle, shifting with her left hand, and driving on the left side of the road. I elected to remain in the passenger’s seat reminding the driver constantly to “Stay LEFT!” The winding roads of the country were narrow and thick with brush. We safely explored a section of Ireland’s west coast, saw the Cliffs of Moher, and took a ferry to the Aran Islands. After spending time in Doolin, we drove north along the Atlantic shoreline, seeing more land plotted with limestone fences and rolling green hills dotted with thatched cottages. We stopped near Ballyvaughan to visit a lovely garden tea room, where an entire table of home baked pies, cakes, scones and cookies were set out to entice. It was “Tea for Two” at a little corner table, lightly dusted with fern fronds that had fallen from above…paradise! I selected a gooseberry cinnamon tart which tasted like a buttery coffee cake. This was my favorite culinary experience. However, I regretted not having chosen the blackberry cheesecake for dessert...ah…well, the “second course”. Ha.
There were many other adventures, all packed within a week. A day trip to Galway on the eve of a fine arts fair, and an overnight in Athlone for more traditional music. In between, there were a few other notable stops. One was in the Burren – the Poulabrone Dolmen, a series of stone markers where ancient people performed rituals and human sacrifice. Another was an afternoon spent in the perfumery near Carron in the County Clare; and then a drive to the ruins on the River Shannon of Clonmacnoise, a dramatic Celtic tribute to an ancient monastery begun by Saint Ciaran in 545 AD., and the burial-place of many of the kings of Connaught.
Ireland has to be one of the true gems on this planet. The pace of life there is measured and balanced. The people are open and friendly, always willing to share a story and lend a helping hand. The children are happy and nurtured, and they dance with their parents in the pubs. How cool is that? To say it was a breath of fresh air is an understatement. Soon I will be back again on the Emerald Isle, tasting the tart cream of a Guiness on my tongue, closing my eyes to the ballad that reminds me of a lover gone too soon…aye, the magic of Ireland. The land of wishing wells, faeries, and leprechauns. A place where home is touched deep inside my heart – where I felt more welcome than anywhere I’ve ever been.
Becky Burns, the Soulful Traveler editor for Wandering Educators, is an educator living in the Chicago area. Her column will give you insight and inspiration, taking you to the core or essence of the travel experience, something we all feel as a result of exploration and discovery. Look for her monthly postings describing local exploits in and around Chicago, regional road trips in the Midwest, national adventures from coast to coast, and overseas excursions. You are bound to be inspired and enriched, nodding your head in agreement as a familiar reminiscence comes to light again. You can find her work at beckyburns.com or soothethespirit.com
Photo courtesy and copyright Becky Burns.