Friday, 29 July 2011

The Wrap I: Still doesn't know

Just went back and reread my comments from before leaving Ireland. In the air on the way home, they still seem fair. I can't reasonably write the whole place off based on our limited experience, but the fact remains that it was a distinctly underwhelming experience. I sifted through my photos looking for some that really resonate for me, and there just weren't really any like that, other than the images of ruins and castles.

Still, it was a good place to visit. Even if it was just to find out that the romantic ideal I had in mind doesn't really exist, that is part of what travelling is about. I'm not unhappy we went to Ireland, far from it, but that also doesn't mean that I will be rushing back.

Another thing travelling though, is about is trying to figure out the symbology of the road signs in the countries that you go to. If you can't read the language, at least the pictograms are usually relatively universal. In Ireland however, we came across one that was rather opaque on the first day's drive.


My first impression was something to do with Triffids, and we still don't know for sure what it is, but in the end we think it is probably a warning about potential high winds on exposed parts of the motorways.

This next one was more clear:





Even though our car was a bit more boxy than the one in the picture, we did NOT go down this road.

I also didn't like this one at the airport. It just bothered me that this was as much a part of the airport facilities as the cargo section.



There is one other type of sign which was highly prevalent in Ireland which needs to be mentioned.


As I understand, there has been an enormous building boom there for the past few years, but there are nowhere near enough people for all the houses. Everywhere there are brand new developments and estates, full of identical houses and usually quite well finished and landscaped - but mostly unoccupied, and some already starting to show early signs of decrepitness. These signs are everywhere (except when you want to get a picture of one!).

Huge developments were visible even as we were flying in, and everywhere we drove there was a staggering amount of very new building, and heaps of these ghost estates. I understand that this has been the source of the current economic problems, just a huge over-investment that can't now be paid for. Everywhere we went we had conversations with people who were looking to leave Ireland for work, or had had spent time working abroad, especially Perth for some reason.

Interestingly, it sounds as though a similar thing might happening to some extent in Abu Dhabi - a lot of developments, some of staggering scope, and perhaps too many for a post-GFC world to deal with. They are very nervous abut the current economic showdown in the US, there is a lot of money tied up in the US economy, and they do not at all like what they are seeing from the Republicans.

Location:In the air between Abu Dhabi and Sydney

...and we made it.

Well, 10.45am on Friday July 29, and we are home. Apparently it was -6 overnight, and was still 0 as we were coming in to land - a far cry from the 45+ in the Abu Dhabi desert of 24 hours ago!

Travel home all went well, very well actually. No major airport mishaps, well behaved kids, no accidental Hindu meals (thanks Robyn!). The worst bit was having a delayed flight up to Canberra due to early morning fog. We ended up being queued on the ground for a while, and then suddenly the pilot gunned the engines, swung left and took off. I presume he got permission to do so, but there was a sense of him spotting a gap on the runway, yelling "screw you guys" to the control tower and gunning it.

Anyway, we arrived home to find that Mark (whose wife we bumped into in Sydney having flown in from Dubai this morning) had popped in to turn on the heating, and a suitably neat and tidy house. Aidan, who doesn't believe in the existence of cold, decided he was cold and jumped in the shower. Lauren is so excited to be home that she hasn't stopped singing and dancing since we got within 2km of home, so won't feel the cold for a while yet!

Time to go buy some milk - Justine needs a cuppa.



Location:Curtin, Canberra, Australia

Thursday, 28 July 2011

Full circle

On something like the morning of 30 June, the four of us sat at a table in the upstairs food court of Abu Dhabi airport, having survived the long leg of the outbound travel. This morning, which I think may be 29 July - but don't quote me on that, we are back, just one table up from the one we sat at back then. We even fly out the same gate as we did last time.

Since then, we've been to 5 countries, 2 theme parks, rented 4 cars, eaten untold chocolate croissants, and just generally had a fine, fine time of it.

I'll try to wrap it all up sometime once we get back, or maybe even in transit if I can get the iPad off the kids for a few minutes.

The time here in Abu Dhabi was all too short. The second day, in the morning Robyn, Justine, Lauren and I went to the Emirates Palace Hotel for coffee. Twice. The first time, I was wearing shorts, which turned out not to be allowable, so had to go home to change. Given it was the first time I had worn them after lugging them around the world, you could probably argue that they would have been better left at home.

Anyway, the hotel, which is 7 Star, was rather opulent. In had the Camelcino, a cappuccino with camel milk, but opted not to have the 24 carat gold flakes on top. Justine's scones were a full range of mini scones, with a range of jams and fresh fruit, while Lauren was very pleased with her milkshake and camel shaped chocolate.






In the arvo we drove out to the Rainbow Sheiks car museum. It was pretty impressive, with everything from classic cars through to futuristic six seat solar powered moon buggy things. He obviously has a thing about BIG versions of vehicles. Aside from some genuinely large trucks etc, there are giant versions of an army Jeep in the sand outside, and a pickup truck in the middle of the main museum. There a stairs leading up into the pickup, and when the guide / guard showed us in, there is a full 4-bedroom 2-bathroom house with kitchen in there! The whole thing is actually drivable, though I couldn't work out from his information if it could do 10kmh or only did 10km before breaking down. Anyway, it was pretty amazing. He also has a real passenger jet parked in the desert outside.

So, in our two days we did the Grand Mosque, Ferrari World, a 7 Star hotel and the car museum in the desert. Probably not a bad snapshot - and greatnto see Robyn, Doug and Hugh. Thanks for your time and energy guys!


And so, the next post might be from home, as I don't think Sydney airport has joined the free wifi crowd yet. Wish us well, we are all just a little tired, which ain't the perfect way to start a 14 hour flight! But spirits are high, and hopes similarly. Looking forward to being home now.

Location:Abu Dhabi airport

Tuesday, 26 July 2011

Abu Dhabi

It's now the evening of the first of our two days in Abu Dhabi.  I'm still thinking about the Ireland experience, and wondering what would have happened had we gone there first?  We arrived in Ireland after fabulous weeks in France and Norway, and by comparison, perhaps most things would have been a little bit of a let down.  If we had gone to Ireland first, or maybe even just had better weather for the first day or two, it might have made a difference.  Who knows?

Anyway, what was great was to see friendly faces waiting for us at Abu Dhabi airport.  It doesn't often happen that we get met by people at the airport, and so to see Doug, Robyn and Hugh all there was a rare treat.  After a quick and typically 8 year old greeting, Aidan and Hugh were off, sprinting through the airport like a couple of greyhounds accidentally unleashed in the arrivals hall.  Once recaptured, we made our way beyond the airconditioning and for the first time into the ambient Abu Dhabi air.  My strategy of wearing the heaviest items of clothing to avoid packing them was not well suited to that moment.

For those not aware, Doug is the current Australian Ambassador to the UAE, with just a few more months here as it turns out, before a stint back in Australia and then on to another posting.  Arriving back at their house, we needed only to cover 15-20m to get back into airconditioning.  I imagine that the development of refrigerated aircon, and the funds to pay for it, must have totally revolutionsed living in this part of the world.  The house itself is probably the second most convoluted I have been in, with myriad stairs and angles to keep it interesting.  A glass of wine, coffee in china gilded with the Australian coat of arms and what was a candidate for 'World's best chocolate cake' followed.  The hot water tap is a little redundant at this time of year - the 'cold water' shower was probably only a couple of degrees off what I would have at home, and the pool is quite literally like a hot bath.  Apparently only chilled pools are useable here this time of year.

This morning Robyn had arranged for us to have a tour of the Grand Mosque here in Abu Dhabi.  It has been open for a couple of years, though not yet fully complete.  Unlike most Mosques, which are closed to non-Muslims, the Grand Mosque was designed from the outset to allow non-Muslims the opportunity to see inside the faith, and inside the workings of a Mosque.  I never like prying into functioning places of worship, as it often feels an unwelcome intrusion.  However, when invited to do so I am very happy to.  The tour lasted about an hour, and we were invited to ask questions, take photos and generally to take the opportunity to understand more about Islam.  The tour guide was insightful, witty and open, and Justine and I loved the opportunity.



In the afternoon, to continue the cultural theme, we went to Ferrari World and went on the world's fastest roller coaster. 

It apparently hits 240kmh as it accelerates down the opening straight, before a climb that shoves your stomache through your behind, before flinging what is left of it out the top of your head as you pull negative Gs over the top.  To say it was a buzz is an understatement.  We got off laughing uncontrollably with hair sticking up like gonks and wobbly legs.  I don't want to do it again - not because it was in any way scary, but just because it would spoil the memory.  Our first view of it was from the line.  The car (it is set up as a 16-seat F1 car) pulls out onto the main straight, which stretches off what looks like a good few hundred metres, and then pauses.  Then it just shoots away from you in the same way that a ship goes into hyperspace in Star Wars.  Literally in a few seconds it is up the hill and out of sight.  Justine, who likes these sort of things a lot, just said "wow!", and then started jumping up and down with excitement.  Doug and I, who are a little more reticent, didn't jump, but I think we shared her sentiment. 

The kids got to do some rides and things, but to be honest it was the rollercoaster that will stick in my mind for a long time.  Arriving home, Doug and Robyn's cook had a roast chicken dinner awaiting us, with souffle and some left over choccie cake with coffee.  Not at all a bad day.

Tomorrow is the last of the holiday, and I know Lauren in particular is looking forward to getting home.  We probably all are, but I am looking forward to one last fling.  We are planning, amongst other things, to see the Rainbow Sheik's car collection.  From what I understand, this is a large facility 45 mins drive into the desert where he has a collection of cars from VWs to Ferraris, each with seven versions in different colours of the rainbow.  Sounds typically Abu Dhabi from what I have seen so far.  If a large solution is possible, then that is what will be selected.  The place is under construction - and I don't mean that there is construction going on, but rather that whole new large parts of the Emirate are being constructed from scratch.  It is unlike any place I have seen before, and I am loving having a look at it.

Sunday, 24 July 2011

Leaving Ireland

On a balmy Dublin evening, the five of us made our way slowly down O'Connell St, across the Ha'penny Bridge and back into Temple Bar for one last meal together. It's always a bitter-sweet affair, the last night together on a trip. It's been long enough to be honest, and we are all ready for our own space, but there is a palpable sadness that it has to end.

Tomorrow morning at about 6.15 the four of us will pile back into the Galaxy for a final fling on Irish roads up to the airport, leaving Mum to get a few extra hours sleep and a day of family history research in the Dublin library. We have a 9.20 flight to Abu Dhabi to get, and given the Oslo airport fiasco, will be taking few chances. Mum has a late afternoon flight to London and on to Perth.

I'm at a bit of a loss to summarise Ireland. It has been, I think I can fairly say, been a bit anticlimactic. After the highs of Legoland, France and Norway, we were looking for some Irish romanticism to quench our European thirst, but somehow we just didn't find it. Cashel, our first night destination was probably the best. The hotel, the town, the castle, the ruins, the restaurant bar, were all what we were hoping for.

From that point on though, pretty much nothing was. The house we rented in Cordal oozed with character, but was also undeniably just plain old in some respects. For me the character made up to some extent for the uninspiring setting, but for Justine it kind of accentuated it. The pub in Cordal, the only walking-distance attraction was soulless, and we only went there once. Castleisland, the nearest town, was functional, not bucolic. The countryside was flat, not rolling. Even the drives were only spectacular in isolated locations.

I was hoping the Dublin stay would fix everything, but if anything, it just made it worse. If you had the time and inclination to bar-hop, then you could certainly have a great time. But there's wasn't much else that we saw on a two-day swing through. The town is pretty drab for the most part, colourless, graffiti ridden and run down. I don't know if that is just the current economic climate, but I don't think you can run down a city in that sort of timeframe. When the sun came out, and we were in the right part of town, it was a lot more attractive - but then it was like an Irish Theme Park full of tourists. I wonder if I even saw a Dubliner in those parts of town, other than a busker / hawker / beggar. We had good meals - Aidan and I had a great lunch at the Porterhouse brew pub - but the whole experience has left me nonplussed. It makes the football stand out even more, as something that was real and a part of Irish life.

I have spent most of the week trying to avoid saying that the whole place is hugely over-rated, getting on a plane and flying out, never to return. Indeed, I wouldn't be surprised if I don't come back here, given how many other places there are to see in the world. However, there is a part of me that recognises that this is probably a bit unfair. Certainly we didn't quite hit the mark with the places we went / stayed and what we did, but there are too many good things said about the place for me to think that we have done a comprehensive survey. We did go to places that by all accounts should have been inspiring, and they were decidedly not for the main part. Ruins aside, I can't say I was inspired at all, except maybe for the 2km stretch highlighted in the photo on the 'into the blue' post. Lots of things have been ok, but no more than that. The overall impression has been disappointing.

Interestingly, all of the people we have dealt with here have been incredibly friendly and helpful, and they have possibly been the most positive part of the whole experience. However, I couldn't help notice how few smiling faces you see in the street. Again, maybe that is the local economic conditions at work, but it hasn't felt a jovial place when we have been out and about.

I have to think about it more before I make any final conclusions. At times today I have been photographing decrepit parts of the city to illustrate a highly negative summary; and at other times I have tried to find images to tell a more positive story. To be honest, the first one would be a lot easier to write and illustrate. Maybe if we were here longer we'd have found a deeper side to the place. As it was, I can't shake the feeling that it was a bunch of ruins waiting to happen, living off past glories and hoping no-one will notice.



Location:Dublin, with one eye on Abu Dhabi

Limerick

Forgot to put up this wonderful composition I knocked together, in situ on the bypass, last Friday on the drive to Dublin. It's a cracker.



Through the window a view not to for-get
One to put away in our own little mental net
Though seen from the car
And just from afar
This is a close as we're going to get

The kids in the back watch a flick
We hope that they don't get travel sick
As we take the bypass
And literally fly past
The lovely old Irish city of Limerick



Location:In the car

Midnight, Saturday

It's a little before Midnight Saturday as I write this, and it will be a little after midnight on Sunday before I let it loose on the unsuspecting World Wide Web.

I'm sitting in the window seat of our hotel room (which is a cube about 16 feet in all three dimensions, a shape that is spacious, but just a little disconcerting) watching Kildare and Cork supporters revel below. There also appear to be people stealing the BMW across the street, but I am not going to do anything. This stems from two main motivations - first, it is hard to tell when revelry ends and major crime starts; but second, and more important, given that I have spent 80% of my cumulative driving time in Europe with some form of BMW right up my (I am going to quote the first paragraph of the introduction to the tourist brochure titled the "literary guide to Dublin" here) arsekicking, I have no sympathy at all for any BMW owner.

Justine and I just got back from a belated anniversary dinner in Temple Bar. Mum very kindly, VERY kindly, if you get my drift, watched what is left of the kids while we headed out for a few drinks and a bite. We stopped off at four places, and each turned out to be an inspired choice, especially given my reservations earlier today.

The first was Fitzgeralds, the bar where I had lunch. It was opened in 1832. To put that in context, Perth was opened in 1829, and Adelaide around 1836 if memory serves me correctly. Canberra was opened in 1913, about 80 years later.

From there we randomly ended up in a place called Temple Bar. I have no idea if it is what the area is named after, or vice versa, but it was one of the best bars I've been in for many a long year. Then a nice upstairs restaurant and a glam hotel bar for a coffee on the way back. V nice all round, though by far the most rewarding part was the 2 minutes at The Oval bar, all of which I spent in the toilet. At 10.30, there is still the last of the evening light out, and it was a super end to a super day.


The afternoon we spent at Croke Park, watching Kildare stitch Derry up in the 4th Round Qualifiers of the Gaelic Athletic Association All Ireland Football. I've always had a curiosity about Gaelic Football, and today only served to enhance that. It is a little like Alien V Predator, in that it is an almost perfect cross between Aussie Rules, soccer and rugby.


Aidan started the game with a raft of questions, most of which I could very honestly and comprehensively answer by repeating the phrase "I have no idea", "I have no idea" over and over. I realised as the game started that I had no idea about some fairly fundamental aspects, such as: 1) the scoring system; 2) how many periods they played for, and for how long; 3) whether they had referees or umpires; or 4) who was playing and which team was which.

Some of these questions were answered more easily than others.

Within the first few minutes, the bloke the in front of us made it clear that there was a 'referee' and not an umpire. I don't think he liked him very much, and Justine and Aidan spent a fair bit of the game like this:


When the first period finished, by checking out the typical scores in the Footy Record we came to the (correct) conclusion that they must play two periods of 35 mins plus stoppage time. The Record also, eventually, gave up the identities of the protagonists, and for different reasons (most ludicrous and some bordering on apocryphal), we all chose to support Kildare.

The scoring system I never fully found out, as only 1 point 'overs' were scored for the game, and I never found out how many points a 'goal' was worth, which kept it interesting at the end, as we didn't know if Derry were still in it or not.

It was a skilful game, though a bit like watching AFL training, as it was all the skills, but without the tackling it wasn't as physical in a legal sense. However, it was also quite 'dirty', with lots of flying elbows and niggle, the sort of stuff that the AFL has quite successfully eradicated over the last generation of players and fans. My Mum wouldn't let me play this game, I am sure. That was the impression she gave, anyway!


In the end Kildare won 0-18 to 0-13, thus justifying all our various nonsensical reasons for supporting them. This was widely appreciated by the Kildare-centric crowd. I have no idea who Kildare are or where they come from, but they had the love of the crowd on their side, and so it was largely a happy crowd that partly swapped places with the Cork-Down supporters for the second match of the double header.

It was nice to do something that felt genuine, not contrived for the benefit of tourism. I always think that it is that unscripted reality which separates sport from art, and you couldn't fake the sincerity of the fans at the game, especially the bloke directly in front of us.

Cork then flogged Down, and thus the revelry downstairs. The BMW was long ago driven away, and I have no idea by who, and less interest. As the music coming in through the open sash window from the Belvedere Lounge across the road would suggest, tonight it going to be a good good night.



Location:Dublin

Saturday, 23 July 2011

Midday, Saturday

Just knocked off umpteenth pint of Smithwicks (not all today!), and had very satisfying Beef and Guinness pie at Fitzgeralds, central Dublin. Feeling more positively disposed towards Ireland today, as aside from the pie it is a beautiful blue day here, the warmest of our holiday (though I expect that record to be comprehensively smashed in Abu Dhabi!).

Walked up to Croke Park with the kids and got us all tickets the the Gaelic Football quarter finals for this afternoon. Apparently it is nearly sold out, so it should be spectacular, as the ground looked awesome when we dropped by.

Dublin seems to be swarming with tourists (like us) here to see Dublin. I can't help but feel that what we are seeing is a mildly dissatisfying superimposition of old and real Dublin and the Disneyland version. Clearly central Dublin as it currently is wouldn't develop the reputation that it has, and I wonder how long it can live off it's past without having to build a now and a future? It's a thought I've had a few times on this trip. I love looking at old buildings - castles, abbeys, chateau etc. The ruined ones are even better. But I wouldn't walk around the corner to see the newly built ruins, as it would be missing something intangible. What is being built now that people will be wanting to see in 50, 100, 500 years from now? Or have we past the peak of history, and all the rest is just looking at the detritus? I guess some things will survive and inspire 500 years from now, but I wonder what?

Mirrors a thought about life I had recently - while it nice to sit around with friends talking about things that you have done, at some point you have to go out and actually do new things.

Anyway, enough of that line of reasoning, it is time to head back out and enjoy the moment.

Also, I heard from Ragnhild that while she felt the explosion at work, it wasn't exactly where she was, and that they are all OK. That's the only good news I know of in relation to that situation.





Location:Fitzgeralds Pub, Dublin

Friday, 22 July 2011

Shocking news

We arrived safely, and very surprisingly on time, in Dublin this afternoon. We stopped off in Tipperary for lunch, and for Mum to do some family history research. It is a romantic sounding place, but pretty functional in reality. The main street is a major trucking route, and like most of Ireland, three quarters of the shops are pharmacies, and most of the rest stock what could most accurately (and optimistically) be described as 'stuff'.

It's been pretty low key since then. A drink at the bar, a trip to the playground, and dinner. The Guinness and Beef casserole was uninspiring, and the whole meal was a little missing in presentation for some reason.

However, all that kind of drifts off into the unimportant parts of the world when we heard the news of the attacks in Norway today. Having just been wandering around downtown Oslo a few days ago, and having been flitting around islands just outside of Oslo, which is about all the information I have at the moment about where has been affected, it feels very close to my world. I am hoping that Espen, Ragnhild and Marie are all OK, and that the same is true of their family and friends.

I've had two of the most peaceful and pleasant evenings of my life in my Oslo summer visits, one as recently as this time last week. It is very hard to imagine the sort of pictures I have briefly seen this evening in a place like that. The rational part of my brain knows that has nothing to to with the root causes of these sorts of attacks, but it makes it more real and more shocking when they happen somewhere like that. Makes you realise that the world is a smaller and smaller place, but that we are getting no better at problem solving.



Location:Dublin

To Dublin

9.43am, and we are getting out the door 17 mins early (except for me writing this, which will probably get my in trouble and make us late, and probably jot in that order!).

Heading to Dublin for our last three European nights, which should be good too. Managed to find a Beef and Guinness pie yesterday at the local markets, which was a very good one too, and so there is no pressure to do anything other than have a good time.

Then we split, Mum heads home and we go to Abu Dhabi to see Hugh, Robyn and Doug.

Now 9.46, and I am the last one here! Better go.




Location:Leaving Cordal

Thursday, 21 July 2011

Day 22: Rest Day





Location:Cordal

Looking a little way ahead

While we were in the mountains in Norway, Robyn emailed us to say that the overnight minimum in Abu Dhabi was reputed to have been 42 (yes, Centigrade). With that in mind, I just had a look at the forecast there for the next few days. We get in on the evening Monday 25th, and fly out on the morning of Thursday 28th. Looks like we've got the good weather again...




Location:Thinking about Abu Dhabi

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

Out of the grey, and into the blue

The morning started, as they all tend to, well before lunch and under a dispiritingly grey sky. A less optimistic day would probably have gone straight back to bed, but like I, then been compelled to get on with it anyway.

We headed for the Dingle Peninsula, reputed to be one of the most beautiful spots on the Emerald Isle, and one of the main reasons for our being in this part of the world, so I was feeling particularly disenchanted with the weather. Mum proposed a conclusion that as it had started grey yesterday and got better, that that was how the weather works here, and that all would ok. I remained sceptical, noting that the base size for such observations was N=1 (and that required excluding the first few days where it just rained the whole time).

Crossing the Connor Pass (the highest in Ireland!), it remained steadfastly grey.


We saw crazy people...


We saw blue sheep (though, alas, could not locate Green Sheep)...


Eventually, as we cleared the saddle and began what I thought of as the downslope and Justine (who was driving) saw as a substitute for a toboggan run, we saw something that brought a smile. It looked like it might be at least only 'mostly cloudy' on this side!


And sure enough, on the far end of the peninsula, quite literally the westernmost point of Ireland (possibly of Europe, and possibly of the entire world depending on who you asked, and when), we sashayed into the blue. What a time and place to do it.


In between all that was a brief stalk around the town of Dingle, where I failed (again) to locate a suitable traditional looking pub serving Guinness Pie for lunch and had to settle for Irish Stew, and the kids had an aquarium stop (or, as Lauren put it, a Canarium, and then a Pyramidium stop).

Some other stuff happened:

1. Lauren chased goats...


...which made her happy.


2. Aidan was asked to hop down from the priceless prehistoric megalithic monument...


...which momentarily made him the most depressed human being on the planet.


3. We saw a 2,500 year old defensive fort built on a little promontory above a rocky coastline.





4. We had coffee and scones at a cafe which had a view.


5. Lauren saw cows, and by the end of the day was spotting them as far away as Saturn.


6. And Aidan finished the day in his favourite way - lying almost in the fire reading until well after Justine's bedtime.



Thinking back on the day, there are a couple of key thoughts. I am starting to see the attraction of this place, though it increasingly has the feel of a theme park for tourists rather than a real part of the world. More significantly though, this lack of Guinness Pie issue is starting to become serious. It is looking like a weekend in Dublin is my only hope. Maybe it is like sweet and sour pork - a staple anywhere but China, but unknown there? I hope not, I'm kind of hanging out for one now. I'm happy to solve the problem in Dublin, but it is leaving precious little margin for error.

Location:Dingle Penninsula

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

Jaunting

Day something: spirits pretty high; provisions holding out well. Too well actually, how are we going to eat all this?

I think I may have pushed through that transition phase to where this now feels like the new normal. I'm guessing coming down might be nasty, but sooner or later it is probably inevitable. The trick might be to be as jet lagged and hungover as possible, and maybe I won't notice it? Nah, I didn't think so either.

The sun came out today, at least some of the time. In fact, the weather for the last couple of days might not be as bad as originally promised. That would be nice, because the whole rationalisation about Ireland being the sort of place that is attractive in it's own particular way on grey rainy days has been revealed as mostly sham, and only very partly true. It probably can handle it more than other places, but every part of it comes alive with some sunlight. We even sat out on the deck for dinner tonight, with the kiddos in the spa while us big people wined and dined to the background of the stream rushing past below us. It's fair to say that the house scrubs up pretty well with some sun and blue sky.






If you have eyesight that borders on the supernatural, or you've borrowed a computer screen from CSI Where You Live, and are able to resolve a closeup of Lauren in the picture above, you will have detected a strand of colour on the left side of her face (your left, not hers). No, this is not a technical fault, as she now looks like:


To be honest, I thought €8 was a bit of a rip off for a hair wrap, but she was mentally committed to the thing, and being the path-of-least-resistance type of dad that I am, in choosing between blowing some Euros and hosting my own song and dance festival on Main Street (it really is called that!), it wasn't a difficult choice. Supposedly it 'lasts for months', so this will probably be the last you see of it.

Other highlights of the day were Mum and the Kiddos [mental note: if ever asked to manage a band called "Mum and the Kiddos", decline and decline fast] going on a "Jaunting Car" ride around Kilarney. A Jaunting Car, for the uninitiated, is:






It makes people look like this:



When accumulated and put in the grounds of a major heritage building, say, Muckross House, they start to look like this:



This is not a bad thing.

It is also handy, when you pick up, say, Muckross House at auction, that it comes with a ruined Abbey in the backyard (just past the parking area, which can handle, at a guess, about 10,000,000,000 cars and a few dozen buses). Where you park your Jaunting Car was not clear, but the grass was pretty green, and looked well fertilised, if you get my drift.

Anyway, your ruined Abbey looks a lot like this:











This is also not bad.

You can kind of see here how you cross the threshold of what normal is (if anything).

I haven't even mentioned the farm yet, and that was the whole morning. The other part of Muckross is the 'Traditional Farm' section. This is deserving of more than a throwaway few lines, because it is a superb recreation of several stages of farm history, complete with restored buildings, people cooking soda bread on log fires, suckling piglets, 'small farm animals' (which turn out to be babies, rather than bonsai versions), and fully realistic muddy paths to walk down.






And tomorrow? Tomorrow we do Dingle! I'll just leave that line dangling there, though if you have a dongle-equipped device you might be able to disentangle my deliberately discursive double-entendre. _amn, the '_' has _ied on my _igital _ictation _oover.

Location:Kilarney, Ireland

Monday, 18 July 2011

Just joking

An Irishman walked into a bar. That sort of thing happens all the time here.

We are staying right here in the dead centre of Cordal, across the road from the new cemetery. People are dying to get in. In fact, I think a pony asked me if he could come in too, but he was a little croaky and faint. I asked him to talk in a big voice, but he apologised that he was just a little hoarse.



Actually, today I got to clamber around in a ruined castle, which was pretty cool. That was lucky, because it took a fair bit of effort to do so. It's quite likely that my carbon footprint to get to the ruin today (not counting getting to where I started today from) was a fair bit bigger than was required for it's construction in the first place.

We got up in the rain, and drove in the rain to Tralee, where we we dropped Justine and the kids off at Toby World, a kind of indoor play centre on steroids. Given the type of week it is likely to be weatherwise, an indoor centre was the only real option.




Mum and I then drive in alternately heavy and very heavy rain around the Ring of Kerry to the town of Cahersiveen. I was hoping to pick up some film for the panoramic camera, but apparently the closest photographic shop was at Killarney, which is further away from Cahersiveen than where we a staying!


I'd heard about Ballycarbery Castle from the lady at the tourist info shop in Tralee. She gave the impression that you could just walk up to it, and then climb about on the ruin, up old stairs and into the structure itself. Coming from a country which has insurance companies, I thought that pretty unlikely, or at least that there would be the obligatory handrails and safety guards - but I was wrong. The is a paddock, there is the 15th century ruin, there are things that may once have been stairs up one side, and that is about it. If an insurance type person came along, I presume that they would have a coronary and die on the spot, thus allowing the whole thing to continue unmolested. If tourists fall off, there is plenty of room to just shove them in the undercroft area and the peat could do the rest.






Getting up into a ruin like that was pretty cool. It wasn't as amazing as I thought it might have been, but nonetheless it was a whole different perspective. The best part was a concealed staircase in the tower which provided access to the archer slits on the west wall. The stairs were accessed from above, went down and in a perilously dark and slippery way around the bottom corner, before emerging in an unprotected opening 8 foot above the ground in a large chamber on the ground floor. There were surprisingly few tourist bones at the bottom, and most of those were picked clean by something that it was better not to think about.


We then made a mad dash back to pick up Justine and Kiddos, who must have been close to played out after 4 hours, as they both just headed to get shoes on without putting up any sort of a fight. We then spa'd again, and in contravention to all known expectations got about 2 minutes of sunshine and a patch of blue sky! I kid you not, it was very exciting!

I don't have a lot of observations on Ireland yet, which surprises me. I think it is because it it so similar culturally to home that it feels more like being on holiday in my own culture / country than overseas. You can just talk to people, they drive on the same side of the road, signs are all legible, you know what you are buying at the Supa Value. I listened to 10 minutes of FM radio today, and the music, banter, news intro, sport news music and every other conceivable aspect were exactly (exactly!) the same as at home. After the past two weeks, I think that is a bit anticlimactic. We deliberately chose a place to go which was English-speaking to make it less stressful, and for the kids to be able to find their way round more easily. Perhaps this is a bit too easy? It is not a terrible thing, but it feels a little like a letdown to me.

We were also chatting tonight about the rural setting. I think this house could be really great if the weather allowed us to be out using the outdoor area and living around the spa and so on. As it is, it is very cosy with the fire, and tonight it is candle lit and charming.


However, it would be better again if it was connected to a bunch of other things we wanted to do. Having to get into the car to go to anything doesn't seem to be giving us as many options as we expected, and certainly isn't loved by Thing 1 and Thing 2. We are even talking about leaving here a night early and spending Friday night in either Limerick or Cork. Unfortunately, I can't think of a pun or decent joke about either of those towns, so we'll just have to move on.

We'll have to see, but I wouldn't be surprised if this is the last time we seek this type of rural setting. Part of the joy of a holiday is experiencing different things, learning about the world and about yourself. I thoroughly enjoyed noticing the different type of construction used in the defensive castle at Cahersiveen today (piled up shale rocks, essentially) to the ornate castle and abbeys (carved granite stones); and then just as much the conversation about where we have enjoyed staying, and why. There is never a dud experience, however frustrating they might seem at the time, but it is the time and mental space to explore them that I like from a holiday.

For the kids, it is more about being allowed to climb the walls without getting told not to. You should see the video!









Location:In Ireland