LAST FULL DAY IN CONNEMARA

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Rhubarb!  On the dining table buffet this morning.  I have it, mixed with other fruits and yogurt and Muesli after I gobble up the scrambled eggs with smoked Irish salmon.    Marvelous breakfast on this, my last full day in outdoor Ireland.  It will make me strong for many hours walking the bogs.

Another beautiful day in Ireland.  Not a single drop of rain fell my whole time here.  Disappointing not to use my new purple raincoat.  But more disappointing:  I have had no need for my dancing shoes and skirt.  Unfortunately all the pub dancing happens after 10 PM, when I am in bed.  Drat!

Morning View Leaving the Hotel

I am prepared for a great big day, starting with a fund-raiser for dog and cat rescue.  As soon as I walk in the Letterfrack hall, I see my kind of people and stuff for sale with terrific prices, which I round up when I pay, considering where the money is going.  I would love to buy some books but I can’t afford the extra weight in my suitcase.  I get a couple of light-weight presents and a CD of Irish music.

At 11 AM I stand in front of The Country Store, meeting place for the Conamara Walkabout.  I meet a second family from Vancouver. Some of the same folks I walked with yesterday are here but we have a new leader.  Sinead (pronounced like Shinade) Keane introduces her brother (Conor Keane), who will walk with us and play some music while we’re out on the bogs.   In many ways, this walk is like our Nature Ramble, with many people adding comments from their own knowledge and experience with native plants. 

 
I learn what to do next time I kneel on stinging nettle.  Get some “dock” which frequently grows nearby, and rub it over the burning skin.  Wish I had known that in Inisheer.  My knee burned for two days.  Personally, dock is one of my least favorite plants cause it’s kind of ugly but I like it more now. 

Stinging Nettle

My favorite travel writer is Bill Bryson.  He is disrespectful and funny and likes to walk in the woods.  In his latest book, The Road to Little Dribbling, he walks with a botanist friend who names the wildflowers they see: 

    “…ladies’ bedsore, yellow cowpox, tickle-me-knickers, sneeze, old man’s crack…"
 
Hysterical, but sometimes this is the way it sounds, listening to botanists.

Sitting on a baby hill amidst the daisies, orchids and sundews, looking off at the beautiful countryside, listening to Conor play his button box — what could be better? 

 If you want to see more and hear Conor’s music, click on the 9 minute movie I made: Sunday at Conamara Bog Festival

When our guided walk is over I go to the tearoom for homemade mushroom soup and brown bread.  Then I head on my own walkabout.  While I’m climbing the big hill and bogs, folks pass me speaking French, German, and Italian.

 I see several different orchids:  deep purple (Marsh Orchid, says Sinead), white, and sort of pink/purple.  I am fairly sure they are three different kinds based upon their leaves/stems.

I love finding surprises in the bogs but about 4:30 PM I head for Molly’s where a famous Connemara musician will perform.

I go up to the bar and say, “The signs says he’ll start playing at 5 o’clock.”

“Well, it won’t be until 5:30.  It’s Irish time.”

“So let me buy something with no alcohol since I’ll have to drink it for the next two hours and don’t want to end up under the table.”

“What’s wrong with ending up under the table?” asks a nearby patron.  A youngish dark-haired guy.

“I’d rather dance on the table then end up under the table,” I say.  They all laugh.  “Do you have something tasty and local?”

“Nope.  But I have something tasty and expensive.”  He is right on both counts.

While I watch the musician’s assistant spend a full 30 minutes setting up the sound system, everyone else in the bar is watching TV.  Some sort of sports game.  I assume it is their version of football until I see the thing they use to pass the ball.  Then I think it might be lacrosse. 

I ask a neighbor who gazes intensely at the screen.  “What are they playing?”

“I have no idea!” 

So I turn around and ask the other 27 people in the bar, “What are they playing?”

“Hurling,” they shout at me. 

“Curling?”

“No, hurling!”    Whatever the heck that is.

Ireland beat the U.S. by a year or two in proclaiming no smoking in bars.   I remember being stunned when I read about it.   Folks at Molly’s go out to the porch to smoke.  But look how much cigarettes cost (about $13).

For dinner I have two desserts.  Jeez, I love vacations.   While I am waiting for a taxi (to avoid dying on the road), I root around The Country Store.  The Irish Times has a 16 page memorial section on Muhammad Ali.  I wonder why, until I learn he had a relative from Ennis and came back here for a visit where he was treated like a king.

 
When I return to Rosleague Manor, I make a pilgrimage to see their Tamworth pigs for the sake of my friend, Mary Elizabeth.  The hotel dog escorts me to the pigs.  And then back.  Their pigs root around, clearing the soil.  Employee pigs.

Follow me to the see the pigs

Follow me back to the hotel

I finish packing at 10 PM.   The sky is so light I take a photo of the view out my window. 

Kitchen garden for the hotel is in the back.  They call it a "tunnel."

After an early breakfast tomorrow, Andrew will drive me to the bus “station” in Letterfrack.  I leave behind the three used t-shirts I brought for just this purpose.  It makes room for the extra items I got at the sale and the national park.  Tomorrow is all day transportation.  I set the alarm for 5 AM.

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