Best of Both Worlds

Here we are tipping into Autumn, and I’m not through with photos and adventure from May yet.

I’m going to wrap up our tour of Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way, with my favourite photos of my favourite moments. That I was there, and saw such beauty, and had such a privileged glimpse into another world is almost dream like.

I’ll let the photos do most of the talking.

A whale watching trip, with Whale Watch West Cork

If I’d seen little more than a few fins I think I’d have been happy,

But we got so much more than that, we got

these views and the knowledge and experience of Nic Solcum  

The pod of dolphins short-beaked common dolphins  turned and tumbled in the wave from the bow, after a little while* Nic cut the engines and let them swim off, about their business. There was a little German girl on the boat, aged about five, she stood at the bow, and waved them goodbye. I’m pretty sure she will always remember the experience, I know I will.

*No idea how long, it was one of those experiences where time takes on a pace of its own.

 

Spud on tour

Did Spud the dog enjoy touring Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way? (Well, the small part we managed, so much to see, do, and enjoy, we’ll be returning). Yes he did.

It’s twelve months now, since he broke his elbow in three places.  You can see his stance in this photo, it’s not perfect

 

but he can steam around with all the enthusiasm you’d expect from a Springer, his mobility is far better than we could have ever imagined at the time of his accident. Surprisingly (to us, at least) his biggest issue from his accident has been his hip, which causes him some discomfort, we’d noticed just before his accident that he’s been running with a bunny hop and seemed to find stairs difficult, we discussed only days before that we perhaps ought to be taking him to the vets.  As it happen we’ve been to the vets a lot since then!

Spud has hip dysplasia, as do so many dogs. After his accident and surgery he had to have ‘crate rest’ for six weeks, and many months of little or no exercise, during this time he lost quite a bit muscle tone, and he’s struggles to use his leg as he should and keep its mobility. ‘Use it or lose it’ doesn’t really work for a dog, so he has physiotherapy and hydro-therapy, he’s less keen on the latter, He occasionally falls asleep during his physio sessions though, once the ‘uncomfortable’ bits are done. He’s a model patient.

Flowers of the Burren

The flora of the Burren, on Ireland’s West Coast, are beautiful, and world famous

Botanically, the Burren is one of the most fascinating regions in Western Europe with plants normally found in widely separate parts of the continent growing alongside each other. Thus mountains avens, a species usually found in sub-arctic and mountainous areas, can be found alongside such southern European species as bloody cranesbill and the dense-flowered orchid whose distribution is centred on the Mediterranean. In addition, plants ordinarily associated with acidic conditions such as heathers grow abundantly on the Burren limestone and plants typical of woodland flora commonly grown in open conditions.

There are many different habitats, meadows,

deliciously cool hazel groves,

 the open, and at first glance, barren, limestone pavements.

But it’s not just flowers of course. This little frog was beautifully camouflaged, I wanted him to hop under a shady leaf, surely his skin would burn on such a hot day?

I could try naming all the flowers we saw, I’ve even got  a book to help,  Wild Plants of the Burren and th Aran Islands, by Charles Nelson, but it needs further study, I’m going to take a stab at this one, I think it O’Kelly’s spotted orchid

We saw an elderly couple, who looked like they might be botanists , dressed in full ‘Indiana Jones’ fatigues, with rucksack bulging, striding out along the track, having been droped off by a local taxi. It must a dream destination for them.

It’s a magical place. and one to which I’d happily retun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Digging deep, smelling sweet

Another post about the Burren, from our journey on The Wild Atlantic Way, the Burren a special place, with ancient history.

This is Caherconnell Fort  to do it justice, and not make it look like just a collection of drystone walls, as most of my images did, you probably need a photo from a drone (I don’t like to be around when drones are flying, but they do give a fantastic perspective).

One of the reasons it has survived over the centuries, is that is thought to be a place where the fairies hang out, and therefore a place not to messed with.  So as well as happy fairies, there are now happy archeologists and a posse of student each summer, who I guess have just learned to rub along together.

sifting away, finding treasures.  It was turning out to be a sunny day, and given how the summer had panned out since then (early June) I guess they are going to have got through a good deal more than two bottles of sun cream!

Good to see it part of the risk assessment, though I was more worried about the young chap wielding a strimmer, without eye or ear protection. Nooooo don’t do it.

A few miles up the road, we took a step even further back in time at Poulnabrone Dolmen    which is a megalithic portal tomb.

By then the heat of the day was climbing, and we were very glad to find the soft shade of Burren Perfumery, and even more delighted by a shady spot in the garden of the tea room. Which was, unfortunately marred by a party of visitor smoking, cigarette smoke wasn’t really the scent we expected.

But the staff helpfully found us another table that wasn’t down wind of the smokers.

The perfumes  they create, are inspired by, the flowers of the Burren, which deserve a post of their own,  given thier special botanical status.  You will be pleased to read, the local flowers are not picked for the perfumes, but sourced elsewhere.

The gardens were pretty,  look at those watering cans,  I have watering can envy. 

 

 

Romantic Ruins

More from our meander along Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way

I’m not sure why ruins are refered to as romantic, I tried to find out, but I’m not sure I’m any the wiser.  I think I’ll go with the term magnificent ruins, for these buildings are magnificent.

To me they speak of  change and in the case of these buildings, social and political turmoil, but I suppose that’s inevitable if you hang around for a few hundred years.

This is Leamaneh Castle 

It stands in private land, and due to its precarious state it’s not maintained.  The orignal tower house is on the right of the next photo, and built-in 1480-90 I’m sure if was around here, someone would have ‘repurposed’ the stone over the centuries.

This is Garrettstown, this is one wing, there is another wing, but the planned ‘grand house’ was never built, as the cash ran out.  It now forms part of Garrattstown Holiday Park, a stop-over on our travels.

Now this one has more of a romantic look  I think, with a Rapunzel vibe  It’s Newtown Castle, it has been beautifully restored and hosts weddings rather than battles 

The estate is also home to The Burren Art College, and we had a lovely lunch there, and Spud the dog had the time of his life, about six students (all girls, from the USA) who were on a month-long residency and were missing their pet pooches from back home swarmed over him, he had his tummy tickled whilst we ate!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://www.buildingsofireland.ie/niah/search.jsp?type=record&county=CO&regno=20912426

Mizen Head

Ireland’s most southwesterly point, and home to the Mizen Head Signal station, as you can see, it’s an isolated spot that is enhanced by modern paths and an essential bridge (to my mind)

We didn’t need telling more than once

We were keeping to the paths.

Which had their own attractions

 

We are duty bound to photograph such feats of engineering, as Joe is studying civil engineering, and like to see a nice bridge.

The signal station is now a museum, much of its original equipment remains,

Along with documents,

which kind of looked a bit haphazard, but one hopes they’ve been catalogued

This was my favourite, an inventory of  tubes and fuses, who need an Excel spreadsheet eh? I like the faux alligator skin print of the cover

Working here must have been an isolated life, you weren’t going to see a lot from the window, and certainly not the next landfall of America, it does feel like the edge of the world.

and before the bridge was built, there were only a few ways of leaving.

We had the luxury of walking off, although Mr Uphilldowndale, was keeping to the centre of the bridge, and not looking down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Conor Pass

The Conor Pass is one of the highest and most scenic roads in Ireland.  The day we drove over, the conditions were good, and traffic was light.  Mr Uphilldowndale had ridden his bike to the summit the previous day, and had not seen very much at all.

It’s narrow and steep, but whilst I wasn’t driving, I didn’t think it wasn’t as arduous as Hardknott Pass  in Cumbria or Bealach na Ba in Scotland  (I’m sure the weather helped)

The view was stunning,

I loved the birdeye view of the ancient croft and sheep pens down in the valley.

 

Brandon Creek

Brandon Creek, on the Dingle peninsula, part of Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way. It was a benign little natural harbour the day we visited, but it obviously has history, the weather was such that we never saw the big Atlantic rollers that hit this coast line.

If the waves don’t get you maybe the bracken will?

There is something very pleasing to the eye about the butterfly sticker on this warning sign, it’s the symmetry I think, but it doesn’t detract from the message.

This was the home of St Brandon the Navigator, allegedly.

He is known as the “navigator” for the legendary journey he made by boat which some have claimed was an account of an early discovery of the North American continent. Unfortunately, like many Celtic “saints”, there is considerable doubt over his true identity, whether his life story is a merger of several lives and legends, or indeed if he existed at all

The clouds hugged the hills

The cottage in the photo was for sale, if you fancy a little project, I don’t imagine it has much in the way of services (or a damp proof course for that matter).

If you take a closer look at the first photo of the cottage you can see, in the foreground, the muddy, bank? That’s a landslip, the harbour eating its way inland,  so I’m guessing insurance might be an issue, buyers may have to offer up a prayer to St Brandon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baltimore Wooden Boat Festival 2018

We stumbled upon  the  Baltimore Wooden Boat Festival, during our road trip along the Wild Atlantic Way,  Mr Uphilldowndale was a happy chappy, a celebration of wood, glue and varnish, the kind of thing that floats his boat.

There was a lot going on, on the water, racing of Currach, a traditional Irish craft, note the oars, or should they be poles?

Historically the boats were made with animal skins, stretched across the timbers, these days canvas is used

There was much activity around the beautifully restored historic Falklands Islands trading ketch Ilen which was launched at Baltimore in 1926

There’s a lyrical description of her restoration here

There was an atmosphere of concentration and competition, to build a boat,

and great to see so many young teams

Looked like a lot of glue, screws

and refreshments were required.

A grand day out.

In a welcoming and hospitable town

 

 

 

Grave Matters

It’s no secret that on our travels, I’m often to be found in grave yards. I find them a fascinating social history, and wildlife refuges.

Whilst on our trip along Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way, we thought we’d look up some Mr Uphilldowndale’s ancestors

Frustratingly, given that we’d already been in about 20 graveyards ,and some of them were very impressive, I have to say; this is Kilmacduagh dating back to the 7th century 

we found the one we wanted in Edgesworthstown to be locked.

Ahh well, we’ll make an appointment next time.

 

The Irish, take dying very seriously, it’s not  a topic they shy away from. My holiday reading for this trip was ‘My Fathers Wake’ by Kevin Toolis, how the Irish teach us to live love and die  it helped me to read the graveyards in a different way.

You’d never see a sign like this in an English graveyard.

In England the  neighbours of the bereaved might bring flowers, offer their condolences, but would they offer to dig the grave? No.

The artefacts left at graves, also told a story, and were very different from what you might see in most of the UK, apart perhaps from areas where there is  a large Irish Catholic populations.

We were a bit worried about Mary, it was 25c, it must be very hot in there.

And when the Irish talk about family graves, they can go back a few generations, with newer  memorial stones added.

Makes you think, doesn’t it.