Thatched roof pics by Debbie Weeks


Ireland-Day 3

Debbie woke early. I slept until 8:30AM and took a quick shower so we could be on our way. However first Debbie insisted on going to the upper house where those 16 German students were all staying. She saw a neat giant chess set outside on a table on the patio area. The figures were cement gnomes. So she asked me to sit while she got her camera ready. Meanwhile, I am near a bedroom window, because I heard all sorts of moaning etc. I am very anxious to get out of there as I felt like I was intruding. We left and I asked Debbie if she heard anything. She heard nothing. 
             We drove across the Burren towards Kinvarra which was just before Galway City. While traveling through the Burren, we stopped many times to take photos as there was a Kodak moment every hundred feet. The terrain was unforgiving, meaning it must have been a very tough place to live. There was no soil, no water, no inhabitants for miles and miles. The landscape was dotted with mounds of rock and miles upon miles of stone walls, going in every direction, with some stone walls straight up a steep mountainside. One had to look closely to see color against the stone as many types of flower bloomed there amongst the rock. It reminded me of a stone desert with rocks jutting from the earth almost like the cactus. On my detailed special maps I purchased of the Burren, I saw what appeared to be a holy well. Debbie and I decided we would count the carriage lanes until we found it. We were probably on someone’s property but we saw no person at all when we were there. There was evidence of inhabitants as there were gates stretched between some of the rock walls in the fields. We walked along a little grass path along the edge of a field and at the very end we saw what appeared to be a spring or a pool of water and on the ledge above was a stone cross. This was our holy well. It was a magnificent find. We took a picture and exited quickly in the event we were intruders on someone else’s property. We drove almost an hour before we exited the Burren. 
              When we arrived in Galway City, we went to the Sleepzone, which ended up being excellent accommodations. There was an internet café there so we made use of it. We had to come back later to get the key, so we decided to drive to Cleggan & Clifden which is in East Galway in the Connemara area. Cleggan is the town where one catches the ferry to the island. Inishbofin, I believe, translates to Island of the White Cow. My mother in laws family is from there and I promised her I would check it out and take lots of pictures. Her family left there in the 1890’s and their names were O’Halloran and Schofield. Today there are many descendants still there. It turns out that we just missed the ferry and according to the girl in the ticket office, it is long ride and we would have had to commit to at least five hours to be able to see the island in time to catch the ferry back. I was disappointed but felt sometimes we just have to go with the flow. I purchased many postcards, and picked up some pamphlets for my mother in law and also a DVD about Inishbofin, which later my cousin’s husband converted so we could view it in the States. [He explained to me that a DVD has 2 formats, Region 1 and Region 2.] Our day would not permit us to spend that time there. The Connemara area was very beautiful with many abandoned stone famine type houses, Farmland, beautiful lakes and rivers. A person had to be very strong spirited to survive in that area as the salt air and the strong winds must have made for a tough life. It was desolate in much of the area and the roads were very narrow and rocky, winding through the peninsula with no sense of order, just twisting through the sand and sea grass. As we were driving, we had no idea if we were headed anywhere, but knew we were next to the ocean so eventually we would reach our destination. Just before we reached Clifden, we drove through Claddaghduff, which was the road next to the ocean and then we passed a very beautiful area called Outergard. Many sheep dotted the landscape and for the first time, I saw oyster farms which consisted of many rows of rope stretched in rows across the bay, with hanging stringers which enabled the oysters to attach. We witnessed aquaculture at its best. Once we arrived in Cleggan, we ate at Oliver’s. We waited for about ½ hour and saw that we wouldn’t be waited on any time too soon. In fact, I think we may have been invisible, but it was ok as we wandered into the bar and grabbed a stool. Eventually someone waited on us. The food was excellent. We left shortly thereafter as we were due for dinner at Bridie and Oliver’s, my online friends. We had a parent connection as their son had MD, and he  passed away not that long ago near St. Patrick’s Day. I really wanted to meet them. The road leaving Cleggan was not as long as the road into Cleggan. It was much shorter and easier to navigate. We drove a short distance and saw a beautiful shrine in the rocks. We passed Killary Fiord, the only fiord in Ireland. A short distance up the road was a big tourist spot, Kylemore Abbey. It is very scenic and full of tour buses and tourists scattering about. Debbie and I decided we wanted no part of that scene so we stopped only to pose for pictures. A short distance up the road we reached Cong. It was a very nice area. I called Bridie to tell her where we were located. She told me to call when we reached Tuam and she would have Oliver come to meet us. After Cong, we passed a little town named Maun where we witnessed a fellow thatching a roof. This was most interesting to us so we stopped to take pictures. There were many bogs along the way, which was also interesting. Soon thereafter, we drove through Headford. We passed a graveyard which had huge Celtic cross gravestones peering across the stone wall which surrounded the churchyard. I couldn’t help think of the Greaney’s who came from Headford. I know a historian named Matt who has thoroughly researched these Greaney’s and Newell’s from that area. He told me that there were about six different Greaney families who settled in the Portland, Maine area.
              We then drove through Belclare where the Broderick’s came from. My cousin Lucia’s mother was a Broderick. This was now Co. Mayo. The rock walls appeared different, as they were more uniform, straighter and had more divisions. I think these many divisions of stone walls had to do with dividing up property amongst sons and their families. We finally arrived in Tuam so we stopped at Lawlor’s Garage and saw a pay phone. I called Bridie and told her our location and she said that Oliver would meet us there in the Blue Boss. I was not sure what that was and she said it was their handicap van. Five minutes later we see him sporting a neat tweed hat. We exchanged niceties and followed him to their home. Once we arrived, I felt like I was with old friends. They brought us into the dining area where we had tea and scones. Bridie took two days from her nursing job so that she could see us. She is an exceptional hostess and shortly thereafter, Oliver made Irish stew for us. Their daughter Mary and her friend Brian joined us and we chatted about so many things. Politics was on that list, but I was not much into discussing any of that. Debbie spoke about her work and politics. I just mostly listened and ate. Oliver peeled his potato and let it fall onto the stew. It was very good. I couldn’t believe I was meeting the people whom I had met online because of Muscular Dystrophy. The last time I had been in Ireland, I felt the only thing missing was to meet another family with a son with MD. So I contacted the Irish affiliate and sent a letter requesting to find a family to correspond with in the Galway area. They replied. Anyhow shortly after we ate, I was asked if I wanted to go to their son’s grave. I said, ‘Of course” I was honored that they asked me and had hoped to do this while there. The cemetery was a short five minute drive from their home. Oliver, Mary and I went together. Debbie stayed with Bridie. It was very personal and I am glad I went. We walked amongst the stones, all neatly arranged and many with their own contained gardens in front of the stone. We arrived at Mark's grave and it was in full bloom with all types of plants and little figurines, many of them dogs which resembled his own dog. The memorial to him was full of life and detail and love. The marker was a homemade wooden one with his name painted onto it and decorated with some of the things he loved like South Park motifs. We talked about him and his short life of eighteen years and I was overcome with grief for them. It was a huge loss for their family and they were doing the best anyone could do given their circumstances. Mark was waked in his home, which I thought was very personal. I knew I had met some special people.
              Later we looked through many photos and talked about family. I told them that my gr. grandmother was a Dolly and Oliver said the gal next store had a friend named Dolly, so I gave my info so Oliver could pass it onto him. Maybe I would find a distant relative. He threw some turf onto the fire and had more tea and I had coffee. Mark's room, complete with South Park wall murals, video games and drawers of legos were used to house exchange students throughout the year. This was their way of giving back. We said goodbye for the evening as we still had to check into the Sleepzone. Along N17, the main road between Tuam and Galway city, we were stopped by the Gardai who were looking for drunk drivers. (or perhaps tourists) Once we arrived, Debbie met a nice sport of a fellow from Australia who shared many of her interests in science. We went into the internet café and wrote a few emails. I emailed my cousin Lucia in Castlerock, Derry and I emailed my husband. He then walked us down the road to our townhouse for the night and gave us our key. They were lovely quarters. We parked our car around the corner in a car park which was free until 8:30 AM. I would say we were in bed by midnite.