Sunday, October 23, 2011

Ireland, an article I wrote in 1998
Ireland is a land of rainbows. That was my thought as I headed for the plane that would return Schelly and I to the Unites States after twelve days in the land of our distant ancestors. This was our first trip to Europe, something we promised ourselves for when we turned 40 and in time for our thirteenth anniversary.
Dublin was our landing place and we took a great circle tour of the country, Sligo, Conomarra, Cork, Cob, Waterford, Wexford and more places than I can readily count. I kissed the Blarney Stone at the famous castle. Incidentally you are lying backward head down, with an Irishman of dubious sobriety holding your legs, over a 160-foot drop from the castle tower, over some bars of dubious strength when you kiss the famous stone. It's supposed to give you the gift of persuasion, if you kiss it. For the faint of heart, I am told it suffices to kiss someone who smooched the rock. Sounds like a scam to me. There is rumors that the Irish relieve themselves on the stone when there are no tourists around. This was vehemently denied by the Blarney staff. The castle is a wonderful treasure house and worth seeing for itself.
We stood on the hill of Tara (no, the House in Gone with the Wind is named for it, not vice versa) and looked for twenty miles in any direction, just as Irish Kings had for almost 6,000 years in that high place north of Dublin. The wind blew fiercely over the ancient mounds and the Stone of Destiny, which sings when a true King of Ireland puts a hand to it. Sorry, no luck for either of us. It is also the place where St. Patrick lit the Pascal fire that proclaimed the founding of the Catholic Church in Ireland, A fire the Druids warned would burn forever, if not put out that night. Catholic Church 1, Druids 0.
We rode horseback on the raised dirt walls of a fairy fort over 3500 years old. Farie forts are circular mound forts raised by the Celts in ancient times. Now overgrown with trees, they are regarded by the Irish as inviolable. A farmer will leave a farie fort in a good crop field, rather than risk the wrath of the Sidhe (pronounced Shee) the ancient elvish spirits of Ireland. Our guide assured us we were safe in daylight as the Sidhe feared horses but he recommended against coming back after dark.
Interestingly I found out that my wife, who is of royal descent was related to Richard de Clare (alias Strongbow) the Englishman (actually Norman) who came over at the invitation of the Irish King MacMurrah to help fight the Irish King O'Rourke in 1160. He basically overran the place and kept it till Henry II came over from England to demand his fealty. He's buried in Christ Church Dublin where we visited the old boy, famous for sacking Wexford and burning Dublin. We didn't mention the relation to the locals. Of my ancestors, who were Scots, but if one goes back far enough are Irish from Sligo, little is known. Notorious as muggers, footpads and ne'er-do-wells, the McKeowns left few records (mostly in prison), their famous insignia (two drunks stealing a horse) is still remembered in Sligo.
The people were pleasant and friendly, though no more so Charlotteans, I thought and it is truly a drinking culture. Guinness is everywhere, Guinness is everything. They live in pubs. They give directions by pubs because the #!!#$#! road signs are so lousy. Driving on the opposite side is not so bad, even if you are doing it in a Nissan Microbe ( a car they don't sell in the US cause you wouldn't be able to find it in your parking lot till everyone else left). The Roundabouts are great, giving you another shot if you miss your turn.
The Irish drive as if Satan is chasing them but for all that in two weeks I never saw one accident or the remnants of one. In the first two weeks back here, where Satan isn't chasing people, he's actually steering, I saw 20+ and lost track of the close calls. "Hey buddy put the damn cell phone down and steer!!!"
The Ring of Kerry (ring means peninsula) has some of the most spectacular views in Ireland or anywhere, lighthouses, Martello forts from the Napoleonic Wars, abandoned towns still left alone from the famine (the Hunger as the Irish call it, there was no famine, there was food it simply wasn't distributed). History runs close to the Irish skin. We Americans, who do not remember the Korean War, are the opposite ends from the Irish who talk about the flight of the Wild Geese as it happened to their parents.
The Ring of Hook contains a lighthouse and Tintern Abbey built by Schelly's other ancestor William Marshall (regent of England after King John- he married Strongbow's daughter Isabelle). How a woman could have such lineage and not have hung onto a single scrap of land or even a few peasants we could flog...
And over it all in my memory are gentle showers, greens you cannot believe, and stiff winds followed by rainbows.
If you get the chance, go.
Ed
The painting "Wild Ireland" was one of a series of Irish Works done by Schelly Keefer

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