From the West to...Riverdance?

(My surname in Gaelic. And the truth;-)

I'm happy to be back in Cork, but had an excellent Irish "vacation."

The class trip was excellent. Wednesday, September 5 ended up being a long day of travel. It took about seven hours to get from point A (Cork) to point B (Inishmaan). We left at 10 AM and spent a couple of hours on a bus before making what would inevitably be dubbed "the Enchanted Pit Stop." Coole Park, in Gort, Ireland, has an amazing forest (pictured to the left), which made me feel as though I was in some fairy tale.

It was a beautiful setting for its history; as the former estate of Lady Gregory (Irish writer extraordinaire), it also served as a favorite hang out spot and as inspiration for the likes of W.B. Yeats, George Bernard Shaw, James Joyce, and John Synge, among others.

We were there for two hours, in which my friends I explored and had lunch. It was a nice stop, but we were pretty anxious to get to Inishmaan. Another two hour bus ride later, we were stopped at a pier in Rossaveal, awaiting our ferry exursion. It was our last sight of modernity as we knew it, and had a nice view of a stony landscape under a clear blue sky. I could smell the salty bay, which was nice, even for a land-locked native like myself.

We spent an hour on the ferry and finally landed on the pier at Inishmaan, just as the last rays of lights were striking the coastline. It was gorgeous. My island roommates and I had about a half-hour hike up the main road to our host, who brilliantly decided to feed us a huge portion of warm leek soup and homemade bread upon our arrival. Her name is Theresa and she had a quaint, sufficient home, and played an amazing host to us. We settled in, and spent the next couple of days exploring the coast, the inland, and the only pub on the island (what else would you do after dark?).

The island is covered in stone walls that have stood steadily for centuries; its dotted with more rocks, a lesser number of houses, and herds of cattle, chickens, sheep, donkeys, cats, and dogs. The weather treated us well. It was calm, sunny, warm, and clear the entire time, which allowed us to take in fully the paradise-like feeling our professor described before.

In summation, we met an array of wonderful, friendly dogs who escorted us to the pub and along the coast. All of Thursday was spent wandering along the cliffside of the island, and getting lost on the beautiful, mainly barren coast. As we couldn't get to a road, we ended up climbing over several stone walls and walking through pastures with knee-high grass to get back to Theresa's. We meant to be back for a light lunch, but our lost-ness ended up taking us to dinner. It was definitely rough, and we really disliked the adventure of being lost on 3.5 mile-wide island. At the end of the day, though, it was a good work out and quite rewarding; I guess if I had to be lost anywhere, it was worth being lost one of the most beautiful plots of land on earth. We also learned from our professor's daughter that she gets lost every year when she comes, and does exactly what we did to get out of it. That made us feel less stupid.

The cliffs we made it to were huge, and exactly what I always thought I would find in Ireland. We would sit and reflect on most of the cliffsides, sitting in a silence only broken by crashing waves and the birds our escort-dog was chasing after. The whole experience was more than breathtaking, and any set of words could not possibly do it justice. Suffice it to say, my knees shook from the heights, but I was emotionally blown away by the sights; I fell in love with the beauty of Inishmaan in those instances, and can even manage to forget how awful getting lost was. It was all well-worth the struggle.

Our next day began with a huge Irish breakfast followed by more exploring, closer to roads. We sat on a nice beach and relaxed, then did some more exploring on rocky hillsides and more playing with adorable dogs. I had a bit of a cold kicking beginning on Thursday night, but the motivation to explore the island made my body feel a lot better, at least during the day.

We left the island at 4:30 that afternoon, to then take an hour trip to Galway. Most of our class got off in the bay city. A kid from class and I met our friends about an hour later, and we commenced a spending spree that can only be justified by the phrase: "We're on vacation!"

Galway seemed slightly smaller than Cork, but was filled with lots to do and see. It's right on the bay, and covered in rivers and canals. It is also is home to Europe's largest flock of swans...which were literally everywhere. We spent Friday night settling into a suburban Bed and Breakfast, eating dinner, and then sleeping. Saturday began with another big Irish breakfast mid-morning, and then we took a taxi into the city and booked a couple of tours for the day. We had missed the big tours to Cliffs of Mohr and the Burren, so we just decided exploring Galway would be great.

We took an hour tour on a double-decker bus with an hilarious tour guide who had her share of snide, witty, and just plain funny comments. It was a good introduction to the city in the chilly weather, but we got a closer look at the city on a walking tour later in the afternoon. We were the only ones on that tour, so it afforded us some face time with the nice, albeit quiet, tour guide. He was an interesting character; born in Zimbawe to Irish-Australian parents, he's spent most of his life in Africa and Australia. He now lives in Galway and had some interesting insights into the city and into Irish politics, but he did not consent to an interview with me as he said he was concerned about the CIA reading his name in some American paper.

We spent the rest of the afternoon split; the boys watched USA v. England in rugby at a pub, while Elizabeth and I explored the pedestrian streets and did more shopping than either of us intended. Needless to say, I came out of the two hour excursion with a cool, Irish-made ring, a Rugby shirt, and mardi-gras-like beads. The boys did not notice our change into new clothes, as we expected.

We spent the rest of the evening between pubs downtown and near our B&B. One of the pubs, on High Street, was named "The King's Head." It was built in the 17th Century, in honor of the Galway man who executed, on the call of Oliver Cromwell, King Charles I. We threw in the towel about 1 AM, in a pub closer to our rooms, which was not-so-17th-Century (more like 21st). We woke up the next morning, ate breakfast, and headed back to Cork on a bus. We got back into town about 4:30 pm, and eagerly parted ways to unpack, wash clothes, and just relax. It was a great trip, but highly exhausting; we were all thankful to be back "home" and out of our suitcases.

I relucantly got out of bed this morning, but I'm glad I decided to go to class. The top of class included a check to see if everyone made it home, and an hilarious tale about our teacher's weekend adventure. She went cycling in Killarney on Sunday, and ended up with a free ticket to Riverdance. She was surprised she liked it since most of the Irish don't see it as the resounding success most other people around the world do. She thought it would be rather cliche and unentertaining; she liked it so much, though, she got a deal on tickets for a class.

We reviewed our schedule for the week, which includes lectures from another English professor on movies and then screening those films ("Odd Man Out," "The Quiet Man," and "The Wind that Shakes the Barley"), a trip to the Everyman Theatre to see a play called "Survivors" (from the Titanic), and dinner and a downtown restaurant. We then worked out an after-class trip to Killarney tomorrow, where we'll have the afternoon to explore before an 8 pm meeting to see Riverdance.

Michael Flatly is not starring. He is using his millions to live in a huge mansion, like only the "Lord of the Dance" can, in West Cork.

Still, it's supposed to be pretty exciting...she describes it as "traditional Irish dance pumped up." To connect it with our current assignment to read Samuel Beckett's "Murphy," she said that "Beckett would have loved Riverdance."

So, that's that: I'm seeing the world-wide smash in its home. Riverdance in Ireland. Can this week get any better?

I love this country.

~MJ

Pictures by me. The one at the top was taken in Galway.

PS Do you like my new blog format?