The Castles and Standing Stones of Ireland, A Tour

Note: If you spend a week in November living in a castle in rural Ireland, give yourself an extra day or two of vacation after you return so that you have plenty of time to recover form the cold, exhaustion and jet lag.

So, Ireland.

Ballyhannon Castle[1], where we stayed, is in Co. Clare, on the South Western edge of Ireland. This was our base of operations for our travels around the region. I probably would have chosen Dublin but then I’m a citified dandy and this was not a trip of my planning. We were there for my brother-in-law and his wife’s renewing of the vows and they, having been to Ireland 5 times already, just love the countryside. Did I mention they weren’t staying in the castle but the modern carriage house next door? It was very nice of them to give up the drafty, musty and damp castle so we could have the genuine Ireland experience that, according to the priest, only Americans crave.

Anyway. I’ve already talked about Michael, the bus driver who took our little group all over southern Ireland for the first 4 days. He seemed to have almost as much fun as we did.

Our first sight seen was the Cliffs of Moher, better known as the Cliffs of Insanity. It was one of those windy days where if you get caught in a breeze, you can hardly breath. But it was pretty spectacular.

We then went on to tour the Burren, a spare landscape of rocks and not much else, but still magnificent to see. We ended the day wandering around Galway, which is sot of like the Raleigh, NC of Ireland. Everyone says it’s great and you should see it but when you do you’re just sort of like, eh. Not that Galway was a bad place, but there just wasn’t a whole lot going on there. Though, it is apparently the place that invented the Claddagh Ring,[2] which is now a symbol associated with Ireland second only to the Harp.

The Wedding was a lot of fun, especially the Priest who told us all about Tar Houses and how the Irish don’t much care for staying in their own castles as they are cold and drafty but Americans seem to love them. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

After the wedding we attended a Medieval Banquet at Bunratty Castle, which was sort of like dinner theater but with more Meed.There was another American group there as well. one particularly abnoxious America, upon finding out that we were the Sanchez party informed us he was a Sanchez as well as were his family and that they were from Agusta. Durring the banquet he was trying to get everyone to do the wave. That obnoxious American? Rick Sanchez, CNN. Now you know the rest of the story. [3]

We spent Thanksgiving in Dublin. The best part was of course, the Old Library at Trinity College, examining the Book of Kells and the Long Room. Being librarians, Elvira and I had fun figuring out their shelf location scheme. Because we are not just librarians but complete nerds as well.We also took the Guiness Brewery tour which was not really worth it but only because A) I am not a huge fan of Guiness and B) we’ve seen enough of the History Chanel’s History of Brewing shows that I’m pretty much up on the technial aspects of the brewing process. Plus we were hungry and the place is frickin huge.

Then we went to see Kilmainham Gaol. Why do we always go see ruins of prisons when we travel? it’s one of the mysteries of life I guess.

On the way back from Dublin,t he radio station we were listening to on the bus was playing songs with America or Thanksgiving int he title. I hadn’t heard Coming to America by Neil Diamond in I don’t know how many years.I was OK with this.

Over the next few days we drove through Co. Clare and environs lookign for every High Cross, circle of stones or dolmen we could find. Elvira, having a mild fixation for rocks of all kinds, was hell bent on seeing a particular dolmen just outside of Kilkenny. We drove around for about an hour and a half, my sister-in-law Naomi driving, as we searched for this pile of rocks. Which we eventually found and marched out to. To get there, we had to follow a narrow fenced in path aorund the perimete rof a cow pasture, sor tof sneakign up on the dolmen, so as not to spookit. We could only see it when the flashes form the cameras hit it. It was mighty impressive.

Most of our meals were in The Abbey Tavern in Quin, a nice little pub that I highly recommend. We had a traditional Irish breakfast and now I understand why beans on toast is so poplar, when done right.

All in all, we had a good time. If you get a chance, visit for yourself. have a pint of Smithwick’s for me.

I should have the pictures up on Flickr soon and will have links, especialy to that dolmen. It rocked.

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1. Technically, it is a Tar House, a fact we learned form the Priest at the wedding.  Tar Houses were built all over Ireland by minor lords as a defensive site to protect their huge tracts of land (yes, that is how they were described. I smiled but did not snicker) from other lords of the land. Basically, they are a square tower about 4 or 5 stories with only one entrance and a spiral stairwell. The spiral stairs were so that the defending lord had the advantage over his attackers who, having survived the murder hole, would be defending themselves from below as the lord an d his knights retreated to the fortified room at the top. All well and good for the 14th century but bloody annoying in the 21st century, when you have to pee at 3 in the morning and walk half way down the narrow, cold and damp stone stairs to the bathroom (having gotten fully dressed because seriouly, it’s cold!) and then climb halfway back up the castle steps to your musty room at the top when you’ve finished your business. The reason there are so many of these Tar Houses still standing in Ireland is because the attacking knights were so winded by the time they got to the third floor landing they just called it a day and went off to the pub for a pint.

2. Claddagh is a small fishing village that has been incorporated into Galway city. Originally the hands clasping the heart symbol was their village emblem, but has been adopted by Celtophiles the world over as a sappy romantic symbol. Because fisherman are nothing if not romantic.

3. I didn’t find this out until we left, but it explained my profound desire throught he entire meal to shoot the fool with a Taser.