"A Day for Ducks"

That's how our host here at The Olde Bakery B&B described the weather, and it was indeed. It was misting when we left Cashel, which turned to pouring on and off until about 4 pm. At one point here in Kinsale, we were so soaked despite our rain coats and umbrellas that we had to admit defeat and walk back to our room to change clothes and try again later. Here I am at the door, about to set off the second time:


But let's go back in time for a minute. (Not too far, just to this morning). As we finished our breakfast in Cashel, trying to hurry to make it to a walking tour in Kinsale that started at 11:15, our B&B host Joy asked us where we were headed and what we were doing that day. Too polite to say we were in a rush to get to the tour (and too afraid that would sound oh-so-American, rushing around even on vacation), we let her take us into her kitchen and show us a planned route on her own map. She even wrote out directions for "her" route to us, and said "t'would be a pity to come all this way and not really see Ireland" - so we scrapped the tour and set out on her scenic route instead. First lovely discovery was a little woods where we went for a small hike.


Then, feet and lower pants legs soaked, we hopped back in the car to drive through the delightfully-named Knockmealdown Mountains, (not as high as these, surely, but put me in mind of them) with views like this misty one:


We drove on, mostly on smaller roads rather than main highways, through dark avenues of tall trees arching over the road, past horse farms, and groups of sheep, pulling over often to let the faster and more experienced Irish drivers go ahead. We were glad to arrive here in Kinsale at last, and happy for the slower (and prettier) road taken.

But boy was it raining. On our first foray into town, we managed a few shops and the grocery store. One shop in particular was chock full of handmade souvenirs such as this auspiciously-named line of goods. I haven't purchased yet, but I may...


And we ducked into a little chocolate and ice cream shop on the way back home, eschewing ice cream, of course, in favor of the best hot chocolate I've ever, ever had:


Mine had a splash of hazelnut in it, and both came with a side of milk, dark, and white chocolate chips. We spent a lot of time saying things like Yum!, Wow!, and congratulating ourselves for this particular choice of activity.

By the time we went back out for dinner, the rain had cleared and it wasn't too cold. We finally made it down to the harbour:


Historical tidbit of the day: Kinsale is known for it's natural harbour - the best one in Ireland. And it was just off the coast here, in May of 1915, that a German U-boat torpedoed the ocean liner RMS Lusitania, precipitating the U.S. entry into WWI. (Did you know that controversy still surrounds the incident?)

Tomorrow we head to the Dingle peninsula after breakfast, where we'll stop and relax for a few days. One more photo - smiling because we're so happy it's not raining at the moment!

"Erin - what a lovely Irish name!"

Greetings from Ireland! (As for the title of this post, I was quite pleased to have both of the owners of the B&B say that about my name upon meeting me. Quite pleased. Loretta, on the other hand, was quite rolling her eyes.)

After an early morning rise, bus, and plane ride, I arrived back in Dublin airport safe and sound. One more kind mentionis due of Erlend at the B&B in Edinburgh, who got up at 6 am to make me scrambled eggs with goat cheese and marjoram, tea, and toast, even though I tried to insist it wasn’t necessary.

Loretta was ready and waiting with the car hire, and we headed as quickly as we could out of the city. Our destination for the day was the Rock of Cashel, which is about 2 hours drive southwest of Dublin. Various Irish folks we talked to today called the weather “blustery”, which they said with an almost apologetic tone. The blustery quality of the weather was a constant, but not unpleasant quality of the whole day.

Here’s our view of the Rock from our very cheery B&B room:


After Lo had a much-needed nap, we headed a few steps up the hill to the Rock, which is a collection of various ruins – a castle, cathedral, guard tower, and chapel. Lots of history, including a legendary story about St. Patrick around the year 600, who came to baptize the heathen king who lived on the rock at the time. During the baptism, St. Patrick placed his pointed staff accidentally on the king’s foot, and proceeded to lean on it, stabbing the poor guy. Being a heathen, the king endured it silently for the rest of the ceremony, assuming one had to bear this kind of pain in order to become a proper Christian.

The view from the Rock looking out across the Plain of Tipperary, some of the most fertile land in Ireland.

Another in the digital macro series - this was just a regular old snail on a stone wall in the chapel,
but even the snails here are charming...

After seeing the sights on the Rock, we wandered across a field or two to a ruined abbey below, which was remarkable for its sheer lonely abandonment. There was a gate or two (below is Loretta using the anti-sheep entrance device), but other than that nothing. No signage, no warnings about climbing on the ruins or else, no one charging even a Euro or two to see it. The ancient building is just allowed to be as it is, or as it crumbles, a natural part of the town and the landscape. And the views of the Rock from it were amazing.

Done with the historical portion of the program, we wandered into town. Lo found an ATM, I bought a small notebook from a kind older woman with a gruff smoker’s voice who runs the only office supply store in Cashel. We mentioned we were looking for an early dinner place, and she recommended the restaurant a few doors down where she’d had lunch that day, so on we went. We saw the waitress bring two steaming bowls of soup and homemade brown bread to the girls at the table next to us, which didn’t appear on the handwritten menu stuck up on the wall, so we just asked for that. It turned out to be a thick and yummy vegetable soup, and in guessing the ingredients we came up with celery, squash, carrots, onions, potatoes, and perhaps turnips. Quite filling, and great on a day like today.

It’s been a low key evening – TV and cribbage here in the room, Lo’s fallen asleep on account of the jet lag, and I’ve been watching a small group of sheep in the stone-walled pasture across the street. They’ve just now stopped eating and gathered to lay down in a huddle for the night. I think I’ll turn in as well. Oh, and here's a little study in how we two differ in our traveling styles:

Farewell to Scotland

I've loved it here. Of course, I've loved a lot of places that I've traveled to, except poor Thessaloniki in Greece. There have been a few that I thought I'd love to come back to for a longer stay at some point...and now Scotland is definitely on that list.

Because it's beautiful? Of course. It's so beautiful. But so are the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Ocean.

Because of the great exchange rate and cheap accommodations? Um, nope.

Because of the rich historical legacy, and how passionate Scots are about their own history? I love that, of course.

Because of the food? Well, honestly the food was great, aside from the mediocre french meal I had on my first night. Fresh, organic stuff, hearty and tasty, lots of delicious baked goods.

Because of Iona alone, I would come back here. In fact, I really hope to. But in addition to that and the other reasons listed above, I just really liked the people. Often, when traveling, I find that all my various interactions with people add up over the days or weeks to a general feeling about a place. Perhaps it's not fair, perhaps it's inaccurate, but we all get impressions about things based our our experience, don't we? My first trip to Paris, my bumbling attempts to speak high school French led to so many embarrassing and impatient moments that I left feeling that I agreed at least a little with the Parisian stereotypes. I had so many open, friendly, easy interactions with folks in Amsterdam that I've often thought about going back there for more than three days next time. And here in Scotland, people were friendly, yes...but more than that, they were kind. The bus driver, B&B owners, ferry guy, fellow drivers, and so many more, went out of their way to help, direct, advise, and unabashedly and enthusiastically brag about what they liked most about their little corner of the world. Most of these folks were of course in the hospitality industry; perhaps it's all to be expected. But in any case, as I leave here tomorrow, I'll feel a little sad, and very hopeful that I'll be back someday.

Here are a few photos from our last day:

Bannockburn. Today, a grassy field where people run their dogs.
In the year 1314: A bloody battlefield littered with 10,000 English and Scottish fighters, after Scotland's amazing victory over the superior and better-equipped English force. I could go on, but I'll spare you the nerdiness.

Too bad it's 700 years too late, I'm sure I could have held my own as a Scottish spearwoman.

A final cheers, and my first whiskey here. Smooth going in, like fire going down.
I eschewed the ice cube option and only coughed quietly once.
Sticky toffee pudding later helped it all feel better.

On the road

Urquhart Castle, on the shores of Loch Ness

We did in fact spend most of yesterday on the road. And except for the busier highway we took along the shores of Loch Ness to get here to Inverness, most of the driving consisted of cruising along single track roads, which has a rhythm of its own. See approaching car, flash lights if you're going to pull over, or if they flash their lights, you keep going and give a friendly wave as you pass. From my very informal survey, I'd put the percentage of folks giving the friendly wave at at least 85%.

Loch Ness is very narrow, very deep, and very long. We drove along it for what seemed like a long time before finally arriving in Inverness. And, with the foggy, gloomy weather, the whole drive was very atmospheric.

View from the restaurant where we had a delicious Indian dinner.
After, we walked a loop around the river Ness.

We've just had another quite heavy breakfast - including my first taste of haggis, upon which I pronounce thumbs up. And now back to the road - this time fast roads back to Edinburgh and our last day in Scotland.

Iona

Sometimes during travels, nothing goes right. Missed connections, delayed trains and planes, lost items, destinations that are less than one was hoping for. Today was not one of those days; in fact, today was pretty perfect.

This morning was a bit of a rush. We decided at the last minute to try to get our car on the ferry to Mull, since it would eliminate waiting around for a bus. We knew it would be tricky without a reservation, and indeed when we pulled up and talked to the ferry guy, he said it might not work out...but directed us to a long line of stand-by cars to wait and try our luck. If we didn't get on, the next ferry was also completely booked, so our whole itinerary was hinged on this working out.

The ferry pulled up, the walking passengers boarded, all the non-stand-by folks drove on, the trucks, the tour buses...and then they started letting stand-by folks on, one by one. All the cars in front of us made it. Then, we heard the guy down at the loading zone tell the guy about to take our tickets to hold up - no more cars. Someone has to be the first one not to make it...but we were so disappointed. Then, the loading zone guy looked up and saw us, and must have remembered our conversation. "Go ahead," he told the ticket-taker, "I want to get these girls to Iona today". Hooray! We drove down, and after a bit of rearranging, squeezed ourselves into the teeny little spot. Last car on. I'm so thankful for they guy who helped us out - and may I say, this type of kindness and consideration has cropped up so many, many times here in Scotland. Here's what it looked like after I parked:


The ride to Mull is pleasant, about 45 minutes long, and full of castle views. Here's Duart castle, which we toured when we got on the island, since it was on our drive to the other end of Mull where we could catch the ferry to Iona.


The drive across the island was beautiful - and the single track roads were much easier to navigate than I thought they'd be. See a car coming? Whoever has the first opportunity to pull over does so, and then as you pass you give each other a thumbs up or a friendly wave. See a sheep or goat? Well, if you're a local, ease on by. If you're a tourist from California, pull up and snap some photos:


After about an hour, we pulled up, parked for free overnight, and hopped on the 10 minute ferry to Iona. You can see the abbey from the opposite shore:


Our hotel was also just right on the shore, in fact here's a shot from our bedroom window:


We checked in, and meandered over to the abbey. People have lived and been in religious communities on this island since the 6th century, which is about when this cross dates from:


After a good long look through the buildings, I walked out to the little field in between the abbey and the shore. Donica finds my whole "sheep are cute!" mentality strange, but she took a picture for me anyway:


Much later, after a delicious and very Scottish dinner at the hotel restaurant, I went out for another walk. It was just beginning to get dark, at about 10:15, but not too dark for a picture of the main "road" of the town:


I took a little video, which I'll post here, but must warn you of a mistake...I accidentally call the island across the water "Oban" instead of Mull - Oban is the little town we stayed in last night. Whoops.



And in closing, I'll just say that this island is the most peaceful place I think I've ever been. There is a very very close second on a little farm in Tuscany, but Iona has an extra quality that pervades the atmosphere and stills the mind and soul. I wish it weren't so far away from my real life.

"Recalculating"

I borrowed Loretta's GPS for this trip. We call him Daniel, since "British Daniel" is the voice she chose for the audio. He seems really happy to be in the UK, as he's very much more able to pronounce place names here than at home. "San Jose" throws him, "Loch Lomond", no problem.

Today we set out from Edinburgh in pouring rain, and at first Daniel wasn't very cooperative, as we couldn't figure out how to tell him that yes, we wanted to visit a little town called Kilmartin, but we didn't want to take the fastest possible way to get there. He doesn't really get inefficiency for the sake of the scenic route. He said "Recalculating!" lots of times. Finally we figured it out, and it was pretty smooth sailing from there forward.

So in the end we sailed along past clearing skies, the proverbial black-faced sheep in stone-walled meadows, with castles on rocky outcroppings here and there. The castle of note today was the one at Stirling, which is near where the Battle of Bannockburn took place. (Braveheart, William Wallace, etc).

So since I'm in an internet cafe, and tired from all the drivin' - I'll close with a few photos from the day:

Our breakfast table in Edinburgh this morning before we left, taken by Erlend, who kindly gave us driving tips and a lunch suggestion for today.


Mossy rock wall, aka Erin likes to use the macro digital feature sometimes...


Old, old church yard (14th cent and later) with pastoral scene in background.


There's a teddy bear on my bed here in the B&B!


And finally, cheers to a good day, safe driving, and being on holiday in general!

Ah, this weather is more like it!

So this is how my day began:

Wait.

Actually my day began with a lovely home-cooked breakfast, complete with tea, eggs, parma bacon, and toast and marmelade. (Also roasted tomahtoes, which I'm not crazy about, but of course I ate them without complaining since the rest was so delicious). And, special bonus, Erlend took my broken glasses and fixed them for me with gorilla glue while managing to still serve the breakfasts! 2 Cambridge St. B&B is a wonderful place.

OK, but after the glorious breakfast, this:



It was OK though. I went across the street to the little shop you can see in the video and bought a "cheap" umbrella for £3. Slightly damp, I arrived at the Royal Scottish Museum, which is where I spent the next three hours. It's a great museum, albeit a very nerdy one. (I know what you're all thinking - it's nerdy, that's why she loves it, and you're right!) I'm totally into the whole Scottish history thing now, and looking for a good, readable, comprehensive book on the subject. Bonnie Prince Charlie, Mary Queen of Scots, William Wallace, Robert the Bruce, Jacobites, all those kings named James...I'd love to get it all in order in my head.

I loved the signage in the museum...as if we're all Scots, fighting off the Roman invaders who "moved with the purpose of ants". And I so, so wanted to put a period at the end of the last sentence.

OK, moving along...I crossed the street to the Greyfriars church and graveyard. It was calm and peaceful place, but I didn't get into the whole Greyfriars Bobby thing because his gravestone was covered with grungy little stuffed animals and it creeped me out. But here's a picture of the graveyard, anyway:


I walked to the station to pick up Donica, which worked perfectly, we dropped her stuff off, and then headed to Edinburgh Castle...at last. I'd walked by it so many times already and not gone in.

I do love me some castles, and I loved this one. It's so big inside, with so many buildings, and so defensible - it just seems to grow up out of the rock - that you can imagine living in it and withstanding siege after siege. Well, I guess until your food and water ran out and stuff. But still. Here are Donica and I at the castle, Edinburgh New Town in the background:


And here is a nice picture, looking out across the Firth of Forth to St. Andrews, with a funny story. Our guide told us that people on tours ask all kinds of questions about what that land across the water is. Some want to know what part of Europe it is...some ask if it's France, since there's a telecom tower way in the distance that they think is La Tour Eiffel...and some ask if it's America. Wow. Our guide just said "That one was a bit worrying."

A final castle picture, because when I saw this I could not stop thinking of LOTR. "Light the beacon fire of Amon Din!"


This was a nerdy post through and through.