08-08-2023, 04:15 PM
Sadly, no trains.
May 12 Drive to Waterford
Let the driving commence. Fuel up the Sportage and let us go. But first breakfast. Since breakfast doesn’t start until 7 and it is only 5, I might as well head to the boat ramp and get rid of the rest of these peas. The swans did arrive but kept their distance. I also attracted a group of ducks also bent on free food. The main problem with frozen peas is they sink right to the bottom and the swans don’t know to dig for them.
The River Restaurant was less busy so The Queen and I were able to sit by the window. We brought the Queen Mum her pot of coffee in her room. The first stop on our multi-stage itinerary indulged only me. We were heading to a little town called Ballyagran, a small town about about twenty four miles south of Limerick. Ballyagran has no attractions to speak of except it looms large in the Lynch family mythos. Back around 1800, a distant relative set off from Ballyagran for Newfoundland. The family historian wasn’t quite sure if this was the right Ballyagran but back in the 1980s my father made the decision this was the place. This got him invited to a local Shebeen in the area back when he was judging a beauty pageant in Croom. Since this was the place, I rode my rented bike here back in 1993 and took some pictures. I hoped that I could find those spots and take more pictures. I did speak to one man back then who ran the local post office out of his home. His home was a thatched cottage and had three foot thick walls. It was nice of young me to set up a treasure hunt with no real clues for old me. I also wanted to find a Ballyagran City Sign that I took a selfie near. Well, we found the post office but it was no longer a post office. Once again a homeowner probably peeked out their curtain and wondered what that man was doing taking photograph. We didn’t find the city sign and made do with a replacement for the picture.
Our next stop was the Grange Stone Circle near the shores of Lough Gur. The Grange is the largest stone circle in Ireland which means it’s a real pain in the ass to take a picture of to show what you are looking at. Unless, you have a drone. Yep, launched the drone. But launching the drone was a challenge. The grange is surrounded by long thick grass with no place to launch the drone from. The propellers would spin and hit the grass and then stop because of the instruction. I finally placed my sweatshirt on the grass to create a flat space to launch from. Now, launching the drone slows everything down and I failed to give the car keys to the Queen Mum so she could sit down while I fiddled around. The Queen came and got the keys while I tried to get the good photo.
An hour later we stood at the gates of the most hidden of abbeys, Athassel. There might be more obscure abbeys than Athassel but it gets my vote. The Queen and I tried at least three times just to find an entrance to the place before we discovered the small notch in the wall you had to step over to gain access to the abbey grounds. The only sign that directs you to Athassel is back in the small town of golden about a mile up the road. There’s no car park. I once tried coming in on a different road until I realized there was a river between me and the ruins. There is no car park. There is no sign. The first time we entered the grounds, I parked on a small road up against a hedgerow. The abbey can’t be seen well from the road due to the stone fence circling the property. And I don’t want to piss of the farmers on the other side of the road. I guess someone got the message about the lack of access facilities because they opened up the road a little across from the wall notch where you can now park your car. The Queen Mum was able to see the grounds through a locked wrought iron gate, but that was as far as she was going on this outing. It was tough enough for me to climb up and over the notch in the stone fence never mind the recently recovered pneumonia victim. I left her with the keys to the car before heading out with the Queen.
Since it was a drone day, I carried the drone with me. It was the perfect day to be at the abbey. Big white clouds filled the blue sky. I flew the drone all over the abbey. I tried some daring low flying work with the drone but balked at actually flying the drone through a doorway. I kind of wanted to have the drone for the rest of the trip. I walked the grounds a little, but not enough. I could have spent all day there exploring. But the twin pressures of plenty of places left to see on the road to Waterford and someone waiting in the car cut the visit short. What added to the drive to leave was the arrival of a tour group. Something I thought I would never see at Athassel. It was a small group of no more than five or six people, but that was still more people than I wanted to share the ruins with.
The next stop had a ton of people. It should. It’s the Rock of Cashel, probably in the top ten sights to see in Ireland. The Rock of Cashel used to be the seat of the High Kings of Munster and is full of religious buildings. As it says in the name, the buildings sit atop a rock that overlooks the plains. A great defensive spot. Not a great spot for people who can not walk up hills. I had hoped we could drive right up to the top but cars were turned away at the bottom of the hill. I guess we would be just seeing this attraction from a distance. The car park at the base of the hill was full so I used the one in town. It was time to hunt for food and medicine. My body had decided it wanted to get into this illness game as well. I needed a chemist to combat this trend in my body. The night before I had scraped a few Nyquil out of the bottom of my travel shaving kit. I’m sure they were fine. But I needed something more to keep me going. I found a nice chemist right on the main drag. The great/terrible thing about Chemists in Ireland, at least the ones I’ve been into, they call a pharmacist over to talk to you to see if there might be harmful interactions with the medicines you are currently taking. This happened to me at the Boots in Limerick and now at Kennedy’s in Cashel.
We dined next door to the Chemist at Mikey Ryans where they had the largest loaf of brown bread I have ever seen. The loaf was at least as big as a cookie sheet. I grabbed the car from the lot and picked the ladies up in front of the restaurant only contesting with a one car and trailer that looked like they had parked in the loading spot for the day. Behind the Rock of Cashel lies Hore abbey and we went there next. There is no parking at Hore Abbey. The closest might have been back next to the restaurant. Actually, there were cars parked half a mile down the road but the spaces were full. I left the Queen and Queen Mum to wander while I went looking for parking.
The lot I found was miles away and too far to walk back to Hore. There were about ten spots in the lot. I was happy to grab the last spot while other cars pulled in after me. The best was watching a woman leave the lot and forget which side of the road to drive on as she entered incorrectly into a roundabout. Another car had to come up to her and tell her she was doing it wrong. I texted The Queen that I would hang out until the Queen and the Queen Mum were done. I looked up at the Rock of Cashel above me and realized I was in the perfect spot for Drone Flight. Even though I was surrounded by cars pulling in and out, I kind of stealthily sent Mavik Pro aloft. I flew the drone around the Rock while using the car to block me from the view of others. I was a good boy. I didn’t fly the drone too close to the tourists touring the Rock of Cashel so as to not to interfere with their day. But I got some nice shots.
After the flight, I picked up the ladies from Hore Abbey. They bumped into a man who had lost his dog in a culvert that ran under the path to the abbey. Not really lost, but the dog was having such a good time in the culvert, the dog wasn’t coming out. I guess this has happened before.
If you want to see one of Ireland’s ancient fertility symbols called a Shiela-na-gig head to Fethard. Well, we did want the Queen Mum to see a Shiela-na-gig so we did head to Fethard. Fethard is also good because it’s one of the few medieval walled cities that still has it’s walls. Plus, it’s right next to a river, couldn’t be more picturesque. I know. I know. Which city in Ireland isn’t next to a river. I did have a bit of fight with Google maps because Google Maps wanted us to be in the center of town, while I wanted to go to the edge of town where the river and Shiela waited. I eventually sorted it out and was happy to find free parking for once.
Most of the Shiela-na-gigs have been destroyed because of their pagan origins. A lot of the remaining ones, like the one in Fethard, have been repurposed as building material so you find them in stone walls. There was supposed to be another nearby but we couldn’t find it and wanted to get back on the road.
Our Bed and Breakfast for the night lay just outside Waterford in the hills across the River Suir in County Kilkenny. The Diamond Hill Country House was an old school B&B built out of old house with a warren of corridors. We gave the Queen Mum the lovely room at the front of the house which overlooked the garden. Our dark room was in the back and if you looked out our window you could see some weird triangular shaped sun room about three feet wide that our room was built in to. Don’t get me started on the tiny corner sink in the bathroom. The room was bleak with no paintings on the walls.
When I originally asked the Queen Mum what did she want to see while she was in Ireland, she said she wanted to see the famous Waterford Glass Factory. That was it. Her list consisted of one thing to do: Waterford Glass Factory. To be clear, the Waterford Glass Factory went into receivership back in 2009. All the assets of the company were bought by the Fishers corporation. The original factory that the Queen and I visited in 2001 was gone. I had heard they had moved most of their manufacturing to Eastern Europe. They did have a tour of a facility in Waterford. I figured that place was just doing the custom work while the majority of the work was being done in Slovenia and the Czech Republic. I had been holding off buying the tickets for the factory tour because, the ticket bot on the website never asked you to choose a time a day. You could only purchase tickets. I gave in and finally bought the tickets for the tour. The tickets, according to the check-out page, were good for an entire year from the date of purchase. Fine. I only needed them for the next day. I guess I just needed to show up and get in line. Again. All good.Then I read the hours for the tour. I was informed that tours were every day except for Saturday and Sunday. What was the day planned for the Queen Mums one thing she wanted to do in Ireland. Yep. Saturday. I was livid. I was furious. Could I return the tickets? No. I was told to find another date. Saturday was our only date. How could the most well known tourist attraction in all of Ireland be closed on the weekend? Who made up that schedule.
The Queen asked me why I was yelling. I told her. She might have given a little moue of disappointment. I broke the news to the Queen Mum on the way out to dinner. I hoped maybe there might be a gift shop open on the weekend we could visit.
We dined that night at Sabai Thai food in Waterford, across from the Bishop’s Palace on the Mall. The Thai food was a nice break from the traditional Irish fare we had for the last ten days. I ate dinner angry. I drove back to the Diamond Hill country House angry.
May 12 Drive to Waterford
Let the driving commence. Fuel up the Sportage and let us go. But first breakfast. Since breakfast doesn’t start until 7 and it is only 5, I might as well head to the boat ramp and get rid of the rest of these peas. The swans did arrive but kept their distance. I also attracted a group of ducks also bent on free food. The main problem with frozen peas is they sink right to the bottom and the swans don’t know to dig for them.
The River Restaurant was less busy so The Queen and I were able to sit by the window. We brought the Queen Mum her pot of coffee in her room. The first stop on our multi-stage itinerary indulged only me. We were heading to a little town called Ballyagran, a small town about about twenty four miles south of Limerick. Ballyagran has no attractions to speak of except it looms large in the Lynch family mythos. Back around 1800, a distant relative set off from Ballyagran for Newfoundland. The family historian wasn’t quite sure if this was the right Ballyagran but back in the 1980s my father made the decision this was the place. This got him invited to a local Shebeen in the area back when he was judging a beauty pageant in Croom. Since this was the place, I rode my rented bike here back in 1993 and took some pictures. I hoped that I could find those spots and take more pictures. I did speak to one man back then who ran the local post office out of his home. His home was a thatched cottage and had three foot thick walls. It was nice of young me to set up a treasure hunt with no real clues for old me. I also wanted to find a Ballyagran City Sign that I took a selfie near. Well, we found the post office but it was no longer a post office. Once again a homeowner probably peeked out their curtain and wondered what that man was doing taking photograph. We didn’t find the city sign and made do with a replacement for the picture.
Our next stop was the Grange Stone Circle near the shores of Lough Gur. The Grange is the largest stone circle in Ireland which means it’s a real pain in the ass to take a picture of to show what you are looking at. Unless, you have a drone. Yep, launched the drone. But launching the drone was a challenge. The grange is surrounded by long thick grass with no place to launch the drone from. The propellers would spin and hit the grass and then stop because of the instruction. I finally placed my sweatshirt on the grass to create a flat space to launch from. Now, launching the drone slows everything down and I failed to give the car keys to the Queen Mum so she could sit down while I fiddled around. The Queen came and got the keys while I tried to get the good photo.
An hour later we stood at the gates of the most hidden of abbeys, Athassel. There might be more obscure abbeys than Athassel but it gets my vote. The Queen and I tried at least three times just to find an entrance to the place before we discovered the small notch in the wall you had to step over to gain access to the abbey grounds. The only sign that directs you to Athassel is back in the small town of golden about a mile up the road. There’s no car park. I once tried coming in on a different road until I realized there was a river between me and the ruins. There is no car park. There is no sign. The first time we entered the grounds, I parked on a small road up against a hedgerow. The abbey can’t be seen well from the road due to the stone fence circling the property. And I don’t want to piss of the farmers on the other side of the road. I guess someone got the message about the lack of access facilities because they opened up the road a little across from the wall notch where you can now park your car. The Queen Mum was able to see the grounds through a locked wrought iron gate, but that was as far as she was going on this outing. It was tough enough for me to climb up and over the notch in the stone fence never mind the recently recovered pneumonia victim. I left her with the keys to the car before heading out with the Queen.
Since it was a drone day, I carried the drone with me. It was the perfect day to be at the abbey. Big white clouds filled the blue sky. I flew the drone all over the abbey. I tried some daring low flying work with the drone but balked at actually flying the drone through a doorway. I kind of wanted to have the drone for the rest of the trip. I walked the grounds a little, but not enough. I could have spent all day there exploring. But the twin pressures of plenty of places left to see on the road to Waterford and someone waiting in the car cut the visit short. What added to the drive to leave was the arrival of a tour group. Something I thought I would never see at Athassel. It was a small group of no more than five or six people, but that was still more people than I wanted to share the ruins with.
The next stop had a ton of people. It should. It’s the Rock of Cashel, probably in the top ten sights to see in Ireland. The Rock of Cashel used to be the seat of the High Kings of Munster and is full of religious buildings. As it says in the name, the buildings sit atop a rock that overlooks the plains. A great defensive spot. Not a great spot for people who can not walk up hills. I had hoped we could drive right up to the top but cars were turned away at the bottom of the hill. I guess we would be just seeing this attraction from a distance. The car park at the base of the hill was full so I used the one in town. It was time to hunt for food and medicine. My body had decided it wanted to get into this illness game as well. I needed a chemist to combat this trend in my body. The night before I had scraped a few Nyquil out of the bottom of my travel shaving kit. I’m sure they were fine. But I needed something more to keep me going. I found a nice chemist right on the main drag. The great/terrible thing about Chemists in Ireland, at least the ones I’ve been into, they call a pharmacist over to talk to you to see if there might be harmful interactions with the medicines you are currently taking. This happened to me at the Boots in Limerick and now at Kennedy’s in Cashel.
We dined next door to the Chemist at Mikey Ryans where they had the largest loaf of brown bread I have ever seen. The loaf was at least as big as a cookie sheet. I grabbed the car from the lot and picked the ladies up in front of the restaurant only contesting with a one car and trailer that looked like they had parked in the loading spot for the day. Behind the Rock of Cashel lies Hore abbey and we went there next. There is no parking at Hore Abbey. The closest might have been back next to the restaurant. Actually, there were cars parked half a mile down the road but the spaces were full. I left the Queen and Queen Mum to wander while I went looking for parking.
The lot I found was miles away and too far to walk back to Hore. There were about ten spots in the lot. I was happy to grab the last spot while other cars pulled in after me. The best was watching a woman leave the lot and forget which side of the road to drive on as she entered incorrectly into a roundabout. Another car had to come up to her and tell her she was doing it wrong. I texted The Queen that I would hang out until the Queen and the Queen Mum were done. I looked up at the Rock of Cashel above me and realized I was in the perfect spot for Drone Flight. Even though I was surrounded by cars pulling in and out, I kind of stealthily sent Mavik Pro aloft. I flew the drone around the Rock while using the car to block me from the view of others. I was a good boy. I didn’t fly the drone too close to the tourists touring the Rock of Cashel so as to not to interfere with their day. But I got some nice shots.
After the flight, I picked up the ladies from Hore Abbey. They bumped into a man who had lost his dog in a culvert that ran under the path to the abbey. Not really lost, but the dog was having such a good time in the culvert, the dog wasn’t coming out. I guess this has happened before.
If you want to see one of Ireland’s ancient fertility symbols called a Shiela-na-gig head to Fethard. Well, we did want the Queen Mum to see a Shiela-na-gig so we did head to Fethard. Fethard is also good because it’s one of the few medieval walled cities that still has it’s walls. Plus, it’s right next to a river, couldn’t be more picturesque. I know. I know. Which city in Ireland isn’t next to a river. I did have a bit of fight with Google maps because Google Maps wanted us to be in the center of town, while I wanted to go to the edge of town where the river and Shiela waited. I eventually sorted it out and was happy to find free parking for once.
Most of the Shiela-na-gigs have been destroyed because of their pagan origins. A lot of the remaining ones, like the one in Fethard, have been repurposed as building material so you find them in stone walls. There was supposed to be another nearby but we couldn’t find it and wanted to get back on the road.
Our Bed and Breakfast for the night lay just outside Waterford in the hills across the River Suir in County Kilkenny. The Diamond Hill Country House was an old school B&B built out of old house with a warren of corridors. We gave the Queen Mum the lovely room at the front of the house which overlooked the garden. Our dark room was in the back and if you looked out our window you could see some weird triangular shaped sun room about three feet wide that our room was built in to. Don’t get me started on the tiny corner sink in the bathroom. The room was bleak with no paintings on the walls.
When I originally asked the Queen Mum what did she want to see while she was in Ireland, she said she wanted to see the famous Waterford Glass Factory. That was it. Her list consisted of one thing to do: Waterford Glass Factory. To be clear, the Waterford Glass Factory went into receivership back in 2009. All the assets of the company were bought by the Fishers corporation. The original factory that the Queen and I visited in 2001 was gone. I had heard they had moved most of their manufacturing to Eastern Europe. They did have a tour of a facility in Waterford. I figured that place was just doing the custom work while the majority of the work was being done in Slovenia and the Czech Republic. I had been holding off buying the tickets for the factory tour because, the ticket bot on the website never asked you to choose a time a day. You could only purchase tickets. I gave in and finally bought the tickets for the tour. The tickets, according to the check-out page, were good for an entire year from the date of purchase. Fine. I only needed them for the next day. I guess I just needed to show up and get in line. Again. All good.Then I read the hours for the tour. I was informed that tours were every day except for Saturday and Sunday. What was the day planned for the Queen Mums one thing she wanted to do in Ireland. Yep. Saturday. I was livid. I was furious. Could I return the tickets? No. I was told to find another date. Saturday was our only date. How could the most well known tourist attraction in all of Ireland be closed on the weekend? Who made up that schedule.
The Queen asked me why I was yelling. I told her. She might have given a little moue of disappointment. I broke the news to the Queen Mum on the way out to dinner. I hoped maybe there might be a gift shop open on the weekend we could visit.
We dined that night at Sabai Thai food in Waterford, across from the Bishop’s Palace on the Mall. The Thai food was a nice break from the traditional Irish fare we had for the last ten days. I ate dinner angry. I drove back to the Diamond Hill country House angry.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm