Musings

I jokingly said this street art was Abe and Mr. Sweater. Turns out it is something like Abe and the Common Man. Common Man being white guy in cable-knit sweater. Nothing against white guys or sweaters. But.

We took a fantastic architectural boat tour, and this was across from our dock. The somewhat unexpected rooftop open-air circular temple can be rented for special occasions.

Our boat went out to the lock that prevents the Chicago River from dumping into the lake—its natural flow—but did not leave the river. Such a great view west of the skyline.

The grass-edged landform to the right was where the Euro-Americans first settled here. They heard the Indians saying something that they distorted into “Chicago” thinking that was the name of the spot. Turns out the Indians were commenting on the marshy vegetation—stinking onions. Or so our wonderful guide said.

Even more than the building in the previous shot, this one was designed with a plain façade meant to reflect what was around it.

This one, on the other hand, has a stylized map of the rivers. That red “bench” feature way up there indicates the location of this building, a “you are here” marker.

Spotted on our way back from deep-dish pizza engorgement….

Posted at 11:07 PM | Comments Off on River view

Today was a storied day. Too many stories to tell them here, in fact. The morning started in the clouds, or, more precisely, the clouds descended to the ground…creating lovely, muted light. Okay, one story. Sometime after this shot we drove a winding road through a narrowed valley, decorated every so often by flanking, blooming banks of orange lilies. It was named Frog Level Road. When it’s tough, the frogs go low, and burrow deep in the mud. And this valley was low for the area, meriting the reference.

Our next big adventure was to see M’s field school winding up their season. This is when the largest area is exposed and the “most” has been revealed by weeks of hard work in the merciless sun. It is the pinnacle of science!

Science also can look like this. It’s a cord-marked sherd, meaning that when the clay was still plastic and partly dry, someone took some rough cord material and pressed it into the clay to make a surface decoration. This is an easy method to originate and potters all over the world have used it.

Anyway, the stories unfolded. A shower to clean the sweaty, grimy body. A big download of pictures. A party at a lovely home on a hill, a gift to the crew that we were allowed to join. Finally, we crashed, spent and happy and enjoying the wafting air-conditioned breeze in the hotel room. A few fireworks outside as I was falling asleep; or did I dream that in a fog of exhaustion.

Posted at 10:22 PM | Comments Off on Whatta day!

Kinda overcast when we set out. We did have spots of sun and showers, the perfect set-up for a mellow day.

We came across a bike race with dispersed riders soon after we hit the road. Some were wearing bright anoraks…thankfully, they were going the other way.

It’s Sunday, so here’s the Church of Ireland Cathedral in Armagh. The RC Cathedral also honors St Patrick. The Archbishops of both sects are here and both are Primates of All Ireland (if I have it right). Armagh is historically far more of a center than it is today.

We still don’t know how to say Armagh. (Is it guttural?)

We found this six/seven-story ruin up Windmill Avenue, and indeed it was a windmill perhaps two centuries ago. No access; it’s fenced off. No informative signage.

Due west of Armagh is the pre-Patrick religious center, Navan Fort, properly Emain Macha. Folks don’t use much Irish around here, but the instructional materials at this location prefer the Emain Macha name.

Good thing the bikers weren’t headed here. This bike rack has a limited capacity.

We began with a visit to an Iron Age house, reconstructed and populated with this warrior, Fergus, and a bard named Sanka. Great fun!

The most unexpected thing that archaeologists discovered about these ritual features atop the hill is that the bump in the distance was the location for a series of timber structures. The largest, indeed the largest Iron Age ritual structure known in Europe, was built in 94BC (based on tree-ring dating). Before this hill became a ritual/construction site, a different hill was favored. Of course, later, the geographic ritual focus of the people living in this area moved to Armagh.

This topo map may be helpful. I am standing on the left, lower feature (#1), and looking toward the right, major feature (#2). The white signs outline the outside of the hill outside of the ditch that encircles where the enormous soil-covered timber structure used to stand.

Lunch time: would you like a Plain Jayne sandwich, ham and cole slaw? (Did not buy.)

We moved on to the remains of a medieval motte-and-bailey castle (eroding; not pictured) and to the adjacent ruined church and graveyard. This is on the Hill of Faughart, believed to be where St Brigid (~451–525) was born and brought up. If she didn’t live on this ridge-nose, I’m pretty sure she must have come here. If, indeed, she was from what is today called the Hill of Faughart. Anyway, this dipping well is associated with St. Brigid. Leaving the rags tied to the tree is part of ritual visits here.

The church walls are beneath the ivy at the far left and left center of this photo, left of the dark green evergreen. Just to the right of that dark green juniper? is a “flat” grave. The marker records that Edward Bruce (~1280–1318), brother of the Scottish king Robert the Bruce (Roibert a Briuis) is buried there. He died from wounds received in a battle in the lowland below this ridge nose.

This is last night’s sunset, a bit prettier than the one tonight, and appropriate as we bring this chapter of our lives (trite trite) to a close and get those stray belongings packed into checked baggage, rather than in separate containers that can be stashed in the car, ready to be dragged into the next B&B.

Posted at 4:52 PM | Comments Off on Last full day

We spent most of the day at a 170-acre living history village-and-rural-area that is paired with an indoor museum of transportation. We began in the rural area. At least a half-dozen stone cottages in different styles and dates offer the opportunity to think about heating/cooking with coal or peat turves and living in close proximity to farm animals. One cottage (no photo) even had a byre at one end and family space at the other—with no wall in between; maybe it was only used seasonally, however.

We enjoyed a long chat with a spade-smith; he makes spades, not shovels (shovels are for loose materials). This is his water-powered trip hammer. 3K pounds of pressure per smack. No water flowing to make it trip today….

And this is a shot from a 1940 news-reel/documentary about spade and shovel making in the town of Monard, County Cork. With water power and coal-fired forges. Laborers worked six days a week. On the seventh they went to church, played gambling games, and played music and danced. Ireland had a great diversity of spade and shovel types. Over a hundred, and then many different sizes of each. Diversity.

John tried a bullfighter move with these geese. No horns involved, thankfully, just hissing.

Me, I had a chat with this horse (we think in a field next to the museum property).

And we both had a moment with this donkey. One lady looked around for grass-not-nettles and fed her a small handful. Happy day for the donkey.

This wall is cut-away and labeled to highlight the crucks—those curving beams that go up from the ground and support the roof beams. I think folks used ropes to bend trees to make the needed shapes. Crucks were also used in ship-building.

Here’s the fireplace in one apartment in a row of village/urban row-homes with this small room downstairs, two teensy bedrooms upstairs, and a tiny yard out back with a water closet and coal bin, and a bit more room for washing laundry, etc. I thought this is the kind of place where TB would have spread quickly.

Look at the rows of tools etc. in this carpenter’s shop.

Next we went across the highway to the Transport Museum. Of course, we started with trains. This is the shamrock detail on the County Donegal Railways seal.

Here’s the third-class area on a train carriage. They had to pass a law in Ireland to make the railways put roofs and sidewalls on third-class spaces. They used to be like riding in a cart—just relatively low side walls, with riders fully exposed to the weather.

Loved this stylized image of Giant’s Causeway and the cliffs that frame it even today. I think I read that this began to be a travelers’ destination in the 1700s. !!

Cars, too! An MGB Roadster, 1975 model.

Droney made two short runs, and the Guru captured the lovely shadow from this long railroad bridge during the first one.

Posted at 4:48 PM | Comments Off on Tired of ruins?

I thought this was our “last” high cross of the trip, and then we saw a replica in a museum. Does that count?

Also at Ardboe (no ruins of the monastery that was here), we found grave monument setters at work, and this lilac. Can you see the white spots in the first photo? And a couple of flies in this picture? Many bugs…a hatch. They weren’t house flies. Still annoying, however.

Haven’t noticed L-shaped stoplights before….

Strange that all these sheep turned their tails toward us—and they have tails. Lots of that here, but plenty are docked.

Last stone circles of the trip. These are the Beaghmore group.

JCB and the drone captured some fine shots. This is just part of the area of circles, alignments, cairns, etc. Further, this valley is peppered with stone features. And without a doubt more are undiscovered beneath the peat. The peat is covered by brown and grey vegetation in the drone photo.

On to the last ring fort occupied into the 1600s. This is a famous spot, as one of the last Gaelic kings (sub-king I’d say) was inaugurated here in 1593; his name was Aodh Mór Ó Néill. Aodh is Hugh in English. Mór means great. Aodh would have called this place Tulach Óc; today it’s Tullyhogue. Someone lived here in a wooden building into the 1600s. This is the entrance and the original entrance probably required a Z-shaped path between wooden palisades.

We’ve been seeing these blooming hawthorns everywhere—down hedgerows and here at Tulach Óc. The scent is strong.

In Belfast! Here’s the formal façade of Queens University Belfast.

Next to the core buildings of the Univ is the Ulster Botanic Gardens.

This is the door to the Palm House. The plants were ho-hum. There was a HOT room, that made my chest feel compressed.

A metal Lord Kelvin stands inside the main entrance to the BotGarden.

This is a sculpture outside the Ulster Museum.

Just periodic overcast, no sprinkles. Is this really Ireland?

Posted at 4:17 PM | Comments Off on Winding things up

This is the inland side of a promontory fort location, very defensible. The construction here dates to the same period as Donegal Castle that we visited yesterday. Visually, it looks quite different because the stuccoing (perhaps not the technical term) is gone here and not in Donegal. Anyway, the foreground is the original cobble street, discovered below the modern sod. Around me, the photog, are archaeological remains of the village that was outside the castle. This castle, far right and distant, was built/occupied by MacQuillans and then MacDonnells, Scottish landholders and traders. The village had a substantial Scottish merchant population, numbering nearly 300. There was an earlier castle here dating to the ~1200s. I suspect there may have been an earlier occupation, too….

We arrived just after two big busloads of tourons. As we made our way to the ticket booth, we realized they were not entering the castle, only standing at the fence. Yay for the logic of bus-tour scheduling (?).

We took many detail shots of the castle and its setting. This is the remaining bottom portion of a fireplace surround, and the view through the hole in the wall of the next peninsula, covered with pasture and gorse. Strangely, it was not windy.

I’ve messed with the photo settings in an attempt to bring out an etching of a late medieval Scottish galley. Perhaps easiest to spot is an upright triangle, representing the sail, I think. At the bottom are a pair of horizontal lines indicating the ship, with a line of dots along the upper line. Perhaps you can see the upturned ends to the left and right.

We went on east to a geological feature called Giant’s Causeway. It’s a basalt formation of hexagonal columns, broken and weathered on the tops. There are several folk tales about the formation; track them down if you like fanciful stories.

This view is back at the bus turnaround. Many people take the bus down, or more likely back (uphill). We walked both ways. My fitbit has been giving me in excess of 100 flights per day over the last 10 days; not today, unexpectedly.

We spent some time watching the waves crash near the end of the formation, soaking in the sunshine. Just lovely.

I found this tide pool with its brilliant green-yellow whatever-it-is. There are conical shells, too—barnacles? I don’t know much about sea-critters.

Here’s a top-down view of the columns. Love the slight distortion of the geometrics.

Here is a stand of the columns. So dramatic.

We spotted several dandelions along the return route to the parking lot, and even a few buttercups (I think), with flies camped out on them. In contrast, white flowers were bereft of flies. What’s the deal?

We made a quick stop at the Old Bushmills Distillery. We thought about taking the tour, but it was priced at £8/person, and we decided to pass. Even if it included a wee tasting at the end.

Here’s your daily pub shot. This is the Wild Duck in Portglenone. The town is on the River Bann, which connects the large freshwater lake called Lough Neagh to the sea. Vikings sailed up the Bann, and spent the winter of 840/841 at the monasteries at Antrim and Ardboe. Subsequently, they made camps other places around the lake from which they raided elsewhere in the interior of this part of the island.

Posted at 4:37 PM | 1 Comment »

Even before we left the B&B, we’d had sun, sprinkles, overcast, repeat. That was the pattern throughout the day. As we rolled down the road early on, we spotted a cloud sitting atop this ridge. By the time we got to the end of it, the cloud had lifted. Sunshine!

First stop: Donegal Castle. One part is 15th C; another is 17th C; the whole was refurbished in the early 1990s. For several generations this was the seat of the O’Donnell leaders. The town has encroached upon all but a small area immediately adjacent to the castle. In the foreground here is the River Eske.

The Great Hall has been partly furnished. The fireplace surround is 16th-C, installed when the Brooke family owned the castle; they did many modifications/upgrades.

The room above the Great Hall has these fantastic beams supporting the roof. The engineering seems similar to that of covered bridges, etc.

Several days back we started seeing rhododendrons in the roadside vegetation. The Guru discovered that they’re an invasive species here. Beautiful flowers, however.

We passed by Killybegs harbor, a hive of activity on the docks, and moored boats and ships, plus sailboats. I think these two are fishing vessels, but that’s a landlubber’s hypothesis.

This is the first big highway sign that we noticed that did not have the English place-names paired with the Irish. Still haven’t overheard people speaking Gaelic very often.

We think this is fiber-optic installation. We spotted over a dozen yellow trucks that were part of the installation crew, we thought. It will be a big change to this rural area of County Donegal. Note mountain in the background.

From Carrick (An Charraig on the sign above), we took a side road out to this viewpoint for the seaside cliffs of Slieve League (Irish: Sliabh Liag). These are twice as high as the famous Cliffs of Moher, at just a fuzz under 2K feet.

We returned to Carrick to turn north toward (eventually) Derry and Northern Ireland. This place is called John the Miner’s Central Bar. FYI.

Rolling along, only a few times we’ve driven in open range. Usually, if sheep are on the road, they have escaped through the fence. I think that was the case with this one and her several buddies (not pictured).

What a view as we passed down the northeast side from Glengesh Pass (translation: Glen of the Swans). Don’t those rounded flanks reek of glaciation?

We’ve seen a few log trucks. The logs seem short compared to what we’ve seen in the USA. They come exclusively (or nearly so) from tree plantations.

It behooves you to notice these buggies. That camera sign may look like a quaintly historic model; however, it signals a speed check/trap. They used to have installations along the roads, but now there are just vans randomly deployed. There aren’t many, as this is the second one we’ve spotted.

Droney took to the air at Grianán of Aileach, a reconstructed stone fort just west of Derry (officially Londonderry), but on a high spot in the Republic. This view is toward the southwest, so it’s all the Republic of Ireland.

Another rainstorm hit as we crossed the international border. Can you see the change in the pavement in the foreground? That’s the border. How will it change with Brexit?

Soon, the rain had stopped and soon after that the sun was out. We have been very lucky with good weather on this trip.

Posted at 4:40 PM | Comments Off on Watch the weather change

Another day, another religious complex in ruins. Here’s one corner of the cloister interior at Cong Abbey. The Irish is Cúnga Fheichín, meaning St Féchín’s narrows. The narrows refer to the river, I’m guessing. The waterways around the abbey go underground and appear braided. Complex, anyway.

This “fish house” is an unusual surviving monastery feature. My understanding is that the underneath had a net hung inside it, and the fish were retrieved through a trap door in the floor. The area around Cong is where “The Quiet Man” (1952) was filmed–John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara.

This banner over the street in Ballinrobe says: Welcome to (you got that part, I’m sure) Music Festival Mayo. Mayo is two words in Irish—Mhaigh Eo—which means yew trees, and yew trees are loaded with sacred qualities, very special. Oak trees, too.

Lots of place-names begin Bally– or Balli– like this. The Irish is Baile and it means town, although GooTranslate indicates it means home, also. Interesting cultural implications of that.

Also, place-names that end in –more in English may be from the Irish mór, which means big. Toponyms are such fun!

It seems the English mimics the Irish Pont Abhann in some abstract way, as Abhann means river/fluvial and has a different sound than “oon”. Another linguistic abuse by the English….

Just liked the way this looked. I couldn’t tell for sure if it is still open.

That haystack at the end of this peninsula is Dun Briste, meaning broken fort (fort in the sense that this point is naturally fortified by being almost surrounded by the sea; broken is obvious). The English name highlights something totally different; it is Downpatrick Head.

This row of stones exposed from where the peat buried it was a fence-wall thousands of years ago, built by people who cut the forest to begin farming here six millennia ago. Why did peat form here? Scientists aren’t certain, but the current hypothesis is that by cutting the trees, it changed the soil chemistry and created an iron-rich layer that kept the water table high and meant that any plants had to be tolerant of the iron-rich condition to grow, which favored heather and sphagnum and the like. They grew and died and new offspring grew in the same spots, and the moisture and repeated generations meant peat could form.

The large size of the fields and the pollen that has been identified as contemporaneous with the field walls indicate that the fields were pastures, used for cattle and not crops. Very interesting.

Can you guess that it was windy windy windy when we visited Ceíde Fields? Can you guess that is Ceíde pronounced kay-ja? Yup, no “d” at all.

I’m pretty sure this is an abandoned factory. Not all ruins we note are darned old.

Another high view of the velveteen green, this time with more trees and houses. This is near Sligo, from the flank of the mountain called Cnoc na Riabh, meaning hill of…well, knowledgable people argue about of what. Cnoc is hill, no doubt about it. I keep trying to come up with a Cnoc-Cnoc joke….

And here the tide is out in Sligo. The Irish name of the river (originally) and the town is Sligeach, meaning abundant shells, meaning the river was rich in shellfish, and maybe fish in general. Don’t know about now.

Posted at 3:52 PM | Comments Off on Irish lessons, subtly

We awoke to soft rain. High on a hill/mountain, this church was still below the clouds.

On the other side of the mountain, we checked out a waterfall. There are several along the “edge” of this landform. We walked in rain to check it out.

And, farther down the peninsula, we could see out over the ocean was clearer than where we were driving.

Down a narrow lane, we waited for the cowherd-ess to move her charges along. Moo.

And, at the end of the road…a stone fort. These date to the early Christian through late medieval periods, in general.

The stones are stacked carefully, with sloping walls interior and exterior, and the space between filled with chips and smaller stones. In the interior, the stones are set to allow easy ascent. No building remains survive inside Staigue Fort.

Downhill, we found striking blue waters in this harbor in the Brackaharagh townlands.

Off on another narrow side road, heading for Loher stone fort…. Go mall is Irish for slow(ly).

Inside this fort, partial walls of several buildings survive.

The interior of the fort slopes so that water drains out the single doorway. This seems true of all of these stone forts.

A bit more of a drive and a bit of a walk, and we stroll through sheep to Leacanabuaile stone fort. This one has wide walls with turf atop.

Same for the interior building ruins…. This two-room building had a square-ish first room and a round interior room.

Droney and the Guru took this photo of Ballycarbery Castle. It’s huge. Note that the sun is out! The ivy covering the walls is old, with a substantial “trunk.”

This is the “trunk” structure of the ivy on the right end of the building in the drone shot. Maybe “substantial” is too tame to describe this proliferation.

Apache pizza? Cross-cultural food? Find this culinary treat on the traffic circle in Killorglin.

Modest B&B tonight. Spritely owner looks to be in her early 70s. She has lived here all her life. In this building. Brought up here. Modified to be a B&B by her carpenter/builder husband. And this is our view. An hour later we got fierce rain for about four minutes.

Now darkness is descending.

Posted at 4:45 PM | 2 Comments »

One way to look at today is that there were pairs…of medieval monastic/church complexes and harbor-cities.

These first two photos are of Kells priory. This one was founded in the 12th C by Anglo-Normans—some of the ruins inside the wall. Then, the wall was added in the 15th C, and the whole thing was attacked in the Dissolution in the 16th C. Anyway, the ritual architectural core is next to River Kings, and the adjacent settlement was on the slope above and the hill to the south.

Here’s another 12th-C cathedral complex in ruins. It was sacked a bit later, in the 17th C, and some well-meaning??? Englishman had the roof removed in the 18th C. You can guess my take on that.

This one, however, is atop a limestone outcrop, very dramatic. It also has a wall, but mostly the defensiveness is due to the bedrock it is built upon. Here’s the view of town from just a few feet from the cathedral ruin.

Such different choices…next to the water and the riverine transportation network vs atop a defensible peak. Supply lines are different. These aren’t far apart in space, and the surviving architecture overlaps temporally….

Here’s a view of Cobh harbor. This was the last port of call of the doomed “Titanic,” in 1912. Uncounted Irish set sail from here for the New World, hoping, as is often said, for a better life. I think of Cobh as the outer harbor area in the same estuary as Cork, which is in a more protected location farther inland–but doesn’t have the deep draft for larger “modern” ocean-going vessels.

This is the estuary between Cobh and Cork, and there’s a car ferry that goes between the two cities traversing the River Lee in the shot. Notice how the overcast has set in; we have lost the sunshine we’ve had since we arrived (where’s my raincoat gotten to?).

We’re headed south over the bridge that is where the bridge was in medieval times, exiting Cork to the south. The plan of walled medieval Cork survives as narrow streets and bottle-necked traffic. Charming layout, slightly gritty city (or is the overcast skewing my perceptions?).

Ponder these two cities. One (Cobh) is nearer the open ocean and has a deep harbor, an advantage in “modern” times. The other is farther inland, at the farthest downstream that crossing the rivers that forked around the city was relatively easy. Cork was a Viking stronghold far later than most Viking cities in Ireland; the Vikings liked to be inland of the river-mouth, with the security the protected location offered. Archaeologists have found another Viking settlement with ironworking and other crafting even farther upstream, which was unanticipated and suggests that, at least here, the Vikings located activities that required expensive materials even farther inland in an even safer location.

We kept rolling south to Kinsale. I like that this shop offers bibliotherapy. Maybe you’ve heard of it, but I haven’t.

We even had a fancy fish dinner in Kinsale. Delightful and tasty. For dessert, I swooned over my crème brûlée, and the Guru’s pavlova and strawberries was gorgeous and seductive.

And score another fine B&B for us. This is the view from our room—ignore the overcast….

Posted at 4:29 PM | 3 Comments »