Where are ye, Bruce?

The weather has been impressively horrid of late. When it broke on Sunday morning, we headed up the N17 toward Westport and beyond. It was a beautiful, sun drenched day. We spent an hour or so visiting the Megalithic cemetery outside of Sligo, which also allowed the two hairless apes in the back seat to burn off some excess energy. We spent the night in Dungloe at the edge of the Rosses of Donegal. A beautiful town in its own right, Dungloe is situated in a small cove with great cliffs surrounding it. To top it off, it’s got a top notch Szechuan restaurant in which we took our sup. After finishing off our Sino-Hibernian repast, we headed to the strand and watched the sun set over castle ruins along the Atlantic.

Saturday was spent along County Donegal’s famed coasts from the Rosses, Gweedore, the Bloody Foreland, and Inishowen. Unfortunately, the unrestricted development in this county over the past decade has these places dotted with so many McMansions that it no longer has much appeal to anyone looking for open spaces or good views of the coast. An enormous disappointment, really, especially considering the fact that so many houses are unoccupied. Built on speculation, now abandoned before being lived in, and with little hope for sale in the crushing economic situation Ireland finds itself in today. People here complain about this constantly and refer to the ‘new ruins’, but nobody did much to protect Ireland’s greatest natural resource – its views and landscapes – when they had the chance. It is sad to think that Inishowen – once so famous for its seascapes – now looks like the worst parts of the New Jersey shore. In fact, if you replaced Springsteen and John Bon Jovi with Enya and Clannad, you’d have nearly a perfect replica.

To curb our angst over not finding Nirvana, we opted to drive on through Derry and spent the night in a beachfront hotel in Port Rush. If the Donegal coast is the Jersey shore, then Port Rush is Northern Ireland’s answer to Atlantic City, complete with hundreds of B&B’s, mini-casinos, and hotels. Many of these are run down or boarded up. Had it been raining and gloomy out, we’d have been too spooked to stay! However, we did find a nice hotel in the town and ended up having a great family night.

We bought picnic supplies at the local Spar and hit the fantastic beach. Theo and Sue looked for shells, while Sam and Paul had their nightly baseball practice. The former was working on spotting his cut fastball, and the battery proved an eye-catching oddity for the local passersby who often stopped and stared. Afterwards, we all lounged around and watch another great sunset.

On Sunday we spent a glorious morning at Giant’s Causeway, which all four travelers agreed was the most fantastic single place we’ve visited in Ireland. Part of this high review no doubt reflects the spectacular, blue sky, warm air, and amazing ocean life we saw. Theo, Sam and Paul found some fascinating tidal pools perched up on the rocks. Anemones, shrimp, crabs, and small fish all going about their business among the dozen species of seaweeds – and all in spaces the size of a Jacuzzi. Meanwhile, Sue scoured the interpretive center and gift shop.

We drove for the rest of the day, making one long stop at the seat of both Protestant and Catholic ecclesiastical power in Ireland. Armagh. St. Patrick’s original stone church was replaced in the 1840’s by the current Church of Ireland St. Patrick’s Cathedral (No symbolism there, I’m sure! ‘Let’s crush that little ol’ Catholic church and replace it with ours!’).

Not to be outdone, the Papists quickly began their own St. Patrick’s Catholic Cathedral at the same time. This amazing edifice towers above the town and is by far the most impressive Cathedral in Ireland and Northern Ireland. Although only 170 years old, the interior of the building is finished in intricate mosaic work. There are images in hidden places of the nave’s ceiling that are not visible without binoculars, and yet were made with the same care as the images on the floors and walls. We had the place to ourselves (if you don’t count the bum taking a whiz on the outside wall), and the bright afternoon sun lit the stained glass brilliantly.

After spending some mind-numbing hours passing through small towns in the N.I. midlands, we made it back to the Republic, and to Galway in time for another sunset. A great little trip.

Our song du Jour is a set of three reels from the Kilfenora Ceilidh Band (Co. Clare) who are celebrating their 100th birthday.