Cong, Connemara, and Galway City

For those of you who don't know, I had two options last weekend: go away to Galway on my own, or stay in Dublin and enjoy the social life because everyone was staying and plannng onliving it up. I chose the former. Best. Weekend. Yet.

Friday:

Bright and early we set off on a Paddywagon bus tour headed for Belfast. Our first stop was the Battle of the Boyne site. The site was closed, so we milled about trying to look through the gates, and then climbed on top of some fake canons (you'll see when I post pictures.) Then we went off to Drogheda, which as far as I can tell only has one claim to fame: it houses the head of Oliver Plunkett.

Who is Oliver Plunkett? So glad you asked. Do you know about the IRA? Bloody Sunday? Well, long before Bloody Sunday there was feuding in the 19th century. Oliver Plunkett's head was chopped off by Oliver Cromwell (irony in the same name). Somehow his head caught on fire, which seemed to preserve it more than destroy. So, in the Republic of Ireland in a gorgeous church in Drogheda, his head is in a glass case for all to see (no pictures, it was too creepy.) Oliver Cromwell was for the Protestants (the British) and Plunkett was for the Catholics (Republic of Ireland), hence the decapitation.

Then we got to Belfast. We piled into cabs and went on a tour. We saw the Protestant side of town and the Catholic side, and got to hear about them from the drivers. We saw murals (oh, they love Obama), and we saw the fencing/gates around the city that locks up and separates the sides at night so hoodlums can't cross lines and cause trouble. We got to write on a wall. I wrote: Don't hate, Appreciate. I know it's lame, but people had written all the good ones already and it was all I could think of at the time.

Then we went into the mall which is freakin' gigantic (I wonder if it's bigger than that one in the mideast...) and climbed a bunch of stairs to get to the very top where there's a glass dome (very Charlie and the Chocolate factory if you ask me), and you can see the entirety of Belfast-- no joke. Crazy cool. Don't have pictures, but there are probably some online.

Then back in the Paddywagon and back to Dublin. Then I got on a train to Galway. Got into Galway around 11 pm and crashed at my hostel (dirty, one bathroom, smelt terrible).

Saturday:

Got up bright and early (7 am) and caught the 8 am bus to Ballina which would take me right to the gates of Ashford Castle. Or so I thought. Nope. But, I had already bought the ticket and there were no other options, so it took me to Headford, a good 20-30 minute drive from Cong. Damn.

I was mad, I'll be honest. I find Bus Eirrean and Iarnrod Eirrean to be very unorganized. Their timetable online said it went to Cong. So, I'm standing in Headford, i.e. middle of nowhere, at 8:30 in the morning. I tried three cab companies, but none were running yet. Aside from a hotel and convenience store, the town was quieter than those towns in old Westerns.

I called Ashford Equestrian, hopping they'd have some advice or I'd have to cancel. Again losing out on horseback riding. The nice man says he'll come collect me. And this is why I love Irish people.

So, he comes and gets me and drives me back to the equestrian centre. I get ready and saddled up. Cindy, a cute tiny French girl with a crazy thick accent led me out, and the two of us rode. I was on Spruce, she was on Guinness. It was gorgeous... indescribable. No camera, so no pictures. The head guy (who'd picked me up, Tim) told Cindy not to trot, but she asked me if I wanted to-- heck yes. So we did a few times, in secret. Wahoo! We went through the forest and pass the old shed and cottages of the Ashford estate, and then up along Lake Corrib... perfect.

So, then I went off to find the hostel. The lady was SO sincere. ('You are very welcome here!') And then I raced back to Ashford to go get my falconry on.

It was a maze to find the falconry place and I was a few minutes late. Deborah, the owner/leader, was very nice. She explained everything about falconry and its history to me, and hawks and falcons (hawks seem more common). Then we got ready and went out into the woods with a baby (5 months!) hawk, Gievre ('winter' in Irish, not sure about spelling.) Absolutely amazing. He's still learning, so he made many crash landings (hilarious), and he was very aprehensive, but it worked. Basically, I got to witness a big feat because it was a big deal he behaved so well.

Then I wandered around Ashford estate, got something to eat at Cullen's, a bistro on the property, and walked around some more... I went down a lot of trails and basically covered every inch of the property and surrounding area.

Then at 6 I went on a cruise around Lake Corrib. There was an elderly man, Martin, who played the accordion and sang. He even sang a song, Spancil Hill, because it mentions California and I told him that's where I'm from. The lake was beautiful, even though it was freezing. I'll speak a bit more about that when I can show pictures.

After that, I went back to the hostel--where Martin was singing with a bunch of people!-- and passed out by 9 pm.

Sunday:

After the long Saturday, I slept in to a late 8 am. I was unbelievably sore. (I also hit my back on the bunk bed the night before because they are super tiny bunks.) I got ready, checked out, and headed for the village of Cong. As I was walking, a car honked at me, and who was it other than Martin? Oh, lovely man. So, I explored Cong village... which took ten minutes. No where was open for food. I was quite peckish, because I didn't have dinner the night before. That morning as I was leaving the hostel I walked the wrong way on accident, and I was eating an apple. I passed some horses and gave them the apple because it was a bit mealy.

So, nothing was open in Cong village. I wandered and wandered. Got an apple lattice (pastry) at Spar (convenience store chain that is everywhere here) and finally found a place with a hot and cold buffet that was open. The man (owner/server) was nice and gave me tips for Scotland (tomorrow!) I read the history of Cong village and all its heritage sites, and then milled around for a few more hours. I fed some ducks for a good thirty minutes, too.

About one I got on the Galway City Tour bus. We went around Cong and by Lake Corrib and Lake Mask (not sure about spelling). We went into Connemara and through the hills. We stopped off at the Kylemore Abbey (a converted castle.) It was beautiful. Our driver was awesome and made us sing songs. He was hilarious. The roads are windy and curvy and narrow, and he kept swerving. Yes, it did make me a bit nervous. He told us jokes and was just a very fun guide.

At Kylemore I switched busses because I needed to be back at Galway to catch my train and Declan (the original fun guide) was running later than Mike's, who was also fun (but not as crazy as Declan, who is the owner of the company.) Anyway, I get back to Galway with thirty minutes to spare, board the train, and pass out. I was famished so I had some chips.

Got home and passed out. Wheew!

I'm fighting off a cold (again). Off to Scotland bright and early in the morning. I think we're going out to bars tonight. Oh boy. Everyone says I'm young, but sometimes I don't feel it...

Pictures to come! (And videos!)