Ireland 2023

[Greg]

May 7 Lahinch Many stops along the way

Ireland doesn’t arise early. Which means when I get up at 5 or 6 in a tiny county town, I pretty much have the world to myself. My destination was John D’Arcy’s Clifden Castle, the home he built for himself back in 1812. The castle was about a forty minute walk from Clifden out along the Sky Road. The was lovely though most of it was in darkness, I couldn’t see much of Clifden Bay until I made the turn off the Sky Road and down the rocky path through the main gate. I still had a ten minute from the gate to the Castle to give you some idea of the size of the estate. And the castle was pretty much hidden until the road took a turn and it was there before me. The castle was in pretty good condition but there were “No Drone Flying” signs all over the place. Stone walls blocked the more dangerous entries into the castle or maybe at one time all the entries were blocked. Over time young hooligans had cleared the way in so in I went. Knowing I had a breakfast date, I didn’t spend long there. On the walk back to town, I visited both the Catholic and Protestant churches to make sure they were given their due.

After a delicious Ben View breakfast surrounded by hundred year old silver services, we headed off on a side trip to see the Alcock and Brown landing site. Probably more apt to be described as the Alcock and Brown crash landing site. John Alcock and Arthur Brown were the first aviators to fly non-stop from North America to Europe. They set off from St. John’s, New Foundland and set down about six miles south of Clifden on what they thought was a flat field but turned out to be a bog. The plane immediately stopped in the peat. It’s not a great spot. There is just a tall plinth commemorating the spot. A statue in town is a better representation of the pair. There are also restaurants and shops named for the duo.

The site of the crash was actually a double site because the boys crashed next to the Marconi wireless station, one of the first of it’s kind, too. Marconi placed it there because it was the closest point to North America. But if the memorial for Alcock and Brown out in the Derrygimleigh bog is dull, there is nothing left of the Marconi buildings. At least I couldn’t spot on any foundations. Not quite the most memorable side trip.

We were going to complete our Quiet Man Tour with two stops. One stop was assured, the second was a maybe. At Maam’s cross we took a left in search of the ruins of the White O’Morn cottage. Google was in charge of this one, like Google was in charge of everything. But when Google said we had reached our destination, there was nothing to see. No signs. No plaques. No large collection of building material. I went back and forth in the car for a few minutes before giving up the search. I had heard there wasn’t too much to see even if we could find it, so I wasn’t disappointed when we moved on.

Our next stop was the Quiet Man Bridge, just up the road near Maam’s Cross. The bridge i could find because there were plenty of signs and you could the bridge on Google Maps using the terrain view. The bridge was a perfectly fine bridge. There were plenty of plaques around the bridge to tell us of the importance of what we saw. I think the bridge is only seen once in the movie when Sean Thornton stops on the bridge and points to the White O’morn cottage. While we took pictures, a father and son showed up to take the tour, too. The father complained he couldn’t recreate the picture from the movie exactly because basically he would have to stand in the river. I told him to fake it. I took the picture of him and his boy. And that completed our Quiet Man tour.

It was a bit of a long drive to our next stop, the Poulnabrom Dolmen, also referred to as a portal tomb. The Queen and I had visited back in 2001 and it was time to go back. If you see any representative photos of the Burren, if it isn’t the Cliffs of Moher, the picture is probably of the Poulnabrone Dolmen. Our road took us back through the outskirts of Galway where I’m starting to recognize the local streets. We cruised by the Dungaire castle without stopping because a giant tour bus pulled into the parking lot before us. Plus, once I learned that the tower house lived most of it’s current life as a place for Medieval banquets, I lost interest in the place. Still pretty, though, sitting on it’s little spit of land in the bay.

The Dolmen isn’t near any of the major roads, it’s sits alone on a limestone plateau in the center of the Burren. This necessitated heading of the two numbered roads and onto the smaller three numbered roads. At one point, we started seeing signs for the Hazel Mountain Chocolate factory. Ha! What kind of loser stops there? The Queen Mum had the complete opposite idea. When I jokingly mentioned we should stop, she agreed. And since it was her trip, stop we did. Always listen to your mother in law. The Hazel Mountain Chocolate Factory was worth the stop.

What made the stop great was the hostess. There wasn’t much to see. There was the mixing room. There were displays of chocolates. But the hostess was thrilled to show us the chocolates made at the Hazel Mountain Chocolate Factory. And the more we showed our appreciation, the more free samples appeared from behind the counter. Granted, we did buy a bunch of chocolate, especially a gift for the Chairman and his wife, who’s house we would be using this night and later when we visited them in Dublin.

The roads got even tighter as we made our way to the Poulnabrone Dolmen. The second to the last road was only as wide as the car and had grass growing down the center. On either side of the road were low stone walls. I didn’t know what we were going to do if met a car coming through. The only vehicle we did meet happened just at the beginning and it wasn’t hard to maneuver out of the way.

Sparse crowds greeted us at the dirt parking lot adjacent to Poulnabrone. The Queen Mum only had the strength to step out of the car and look across the bleak grey limestone to just catch a glimpse of the Dolmen before making a tactical retreat to the car. The Queen and I headed over to the Dolmen. It seemed like the last and only time we visited, we parked in a different area because when we walked to the Dolmen, we had to pass hundreds of rock cairns made by visitors. This time there were no rock cairns and a distracted security guard making sure no rock cairns were built. There were also plenty of signs stating not to build cairns.

It’s always odd to see Dolmens. From far away they don’t look like much but when you get up close you can’t help but examine the stones and ponder what went into their construction. Because of Poulnabrone’s popularity there is a rope guardrail separating the crowds from getting too close to the stones. This is the only dolmen where this is a problem. None of the other stone age sites need such protection. Fortunately, there weren’t many people when the Queen and I were there. I patiently waited until people completed their circuit around the stones and was able to get some pictures without any people in them. The Queen spent a lot of time with her iNaturalist App chronicling and logging the local flora.

If you travel the Wild Atlantic Way from Lahinch to Galway, you will have to pass through the small town of Lisdoonvarna. Lisdoonvarna came to my consciousness via a song that was ubiquitous when I lived in LImerick in the late 1970s. The song was Catch Me if you Can by Brendan Shine who extolled the virtues of going to Lisdoonvarna for the matchmaking festival in September or as he puts it “I’m to Lisdoonvarna at the end of the year. I’m off for a bit Craic, the women and the beer. I’m all shifty for a man of fifty. Catch me if you can. Me name is Dan. Sure, I’m your man” No, I did not have to look those lyrics up. That’s how deep the song has sunk into my brain even though I haven’t heard the song in over forty years. When my father and I passed through Lisdoonvarna in 1993 on our way to Galway, I was excited to spot a hotel with the family name on the front. I had to stop and take a picture in front of the sign. And thus a tradition was born, sort of. Years later, I had no idea where I had taken the photo of my father and I but coming back from Galway with the Queen in 2001, I spotted the hotel and took a picture. My father, nephew and I all stopped in 2009, even going so far as to go in and have tea inside the hotel. Sadly by the time the Queen and I rolled through again in 2016, the hotel had gone out of business and the sign was no more. Fortunately, Lynch’s Wine and Spirits, adjacent to the defunct hotel still exists and I took photos in front of it. Of course, we took the Queen mum there. I’m not sure she understood why I was adamant about a picture in front of some non-descript hotel, yet there we were. Fortunately, the place for lunch, the Ritz was kitty corner across the Matchmaking Square from the nameless Lynch Hotel. We also took photos in front of the Matchmaking statue in the square, another nascent tradition.

Lunch at The Ritz was a little spartan but we still ate. We had to constantly gain the waitresses attention by going up to the bar. Fairplay, it was Sunday and there was a match on the TV above our table.

At this time, The Queen Mum was feeling more poorly than usual and was in need of some sort of over the counter medication to help her. There was a chemist next to the Ritz but as it was Sunday in rural Ireland, it was closed. The nearest chemist that might be open to help with our needs was a Boots pharmacy forty five minutes away in Ennis. But first I needed to stop in Doolin in order to prowl my mind for more melancholia.

Dad and I had set out from Doolin Quay for the Aran Islands. We had to get in a little tiny boat that took us out to the ferry which took us to Innis Mor. I hoped to find the right Quay. Well, Sunday in Doolin and the crowds were everywhere. There was no place to park in the town. I drove out to the end of town to the pier and there was just as little parking there. I turned around and headed towards Ennis. I could find the pier another time.

By going to Ennis, we skipped our trip to the Cliffs of Moher, which wasn’t a bad thing. It was quite the hike from the parking lot just to get to the Cliffs and then there would be a hike to O’Brien’s tower that would be miserable if you couldn’t climb stairs. Plus, all day the clouds had swirled around. Rain started to fall. Maybe tomorrow.

Google failed me in Ennis. Or maybe Ennis failed Google. I was in town, heading towards Boots and Google wanted me to go down a street that was currently blocked off and only accessible to pedestrian traffic. Ennis had pedestrianized the streets for Sunday. I found a spot in a nearby parking lot, espying a coin operated toilet near the car. We were going to need that later. The Queen and I left the Queen Mum and headed to Boots. We got the drugs to hopefully clear up the congestion in the Queen Mum’s chest. The Queen was also told there was a walk-in clinic in town that was relatively cheap if things got worse. Well, we wouldn’t need that. What we did need was that pay toilet and a bunch of coins. The trip was really long rom the last bathroom break at the Ritz back in Lisdoonvarna.

We backtracked back to Lahinch where we would spend the night at the Chairman’s Holiday home. Lahinch is known for it’s golf course and it’s surfing. I was and still am confused by the thought of people swimming in the freezing waters off the coast of Ireland, but supposedly there are some really good surfing spots including a Big Wave location off of Sligo. As for the golf course, that was the hardest course my father ever played. Supposedly they have wild goats that wander the course. If the goats aren’t visible, it’s best to head back to the club house because really bad weather is on it’s way.

The Chairman’s holiday home was a mile south of the main downtown of Lahinch. The Queen and I have stayed here before and always wish we could stay longer. Sadly, no bedrooms on the first floor so the Queen Mum and her fading strength had to climb more stairs. We put her in main bedroom because it had a bathroom en suite. The Queen Mum promptly crawled into bed. Her plan was to gather her strength while we went out and picked up dinner.

The restaurant of choice was the first one you came to as you drive back into town: Vagabond. We had about twenty minutes to wait while they made our food. I opted to wander, despite the water falling from the sky. Lahinch has a promenade of shops that face the ocean with a sidewalk in front of them. There is also a cement stairs that leads down to the beach. When I walked the tide was in and waves crashed against the bottom of the stairs. Occasionally, a surge would send water all the way to the side walk. I was hypnotized by the movement of the water against the stairs. I decided I should film it. I would have plenty of warning to get out of the way before water hit me on the sidewalk. At least that’s what I thought. The fourth or fifth wave bulked up pretty good and soaked me while I filmed. I had enough of wandering around and went back to the restaurant to wait for our food.

I dined at the lovely huge kitchen table back at the Chairman’s house. The Queen took some food up to the Queen Mum. When she came down, I was informed we would be going to the walk-in clinic in the morning. Not super early. The clinic didn’t open until 10. That would give us time to have breakfast at Danny Mac’s after a quick trip out to the Cliffs of Moher to see what we could see.

[Greg]

May 8 University Hospital Limerick

I had a big day planned. A quick jaunt to the Cliffs of Moher. Then breakfast at Danny Mac. We would pick up the Queen Mum and head to Quin Abbey, my favorite ruined Abbey. A quick stop at Bunratty Castle, one of the biggest tourist attractions. We would have lunch at Durty Nelly’s, a pub adjacent to the castle while also a tourist trap served really good food. The trap was well baited. Then it was off to Limerick, my town. We would stay at the Strand, where I had stayed many times before because it is just across the Sarsfield Bridge from Limerick Center. Plans were afoot to meet a friend for dinner at the Locke Bar. A day full of fun.

Except for that stop in Ennis at the walk-in Clinic.

The Queen and I did head early for the Cliffs of Moher. The Queen Mum stayed behind. Technically, the Cliffs open at 9. Well, the parking lot does. And you can’t really get to the Cliffs without parking in the lot. So, you don’t pay to see the Cliffs. You pay for the parking. In 2016, The Queen and I walked the whole length of the Cliffs from Liscannor to Doolin, a great walk I would do again, but no time in the itinerary this trip. But just seeing the Cliffs of Moher is always worthwhile. Now, you only pay for parking if the parking attendant is there. If you go early enough, around 7 for instance, the attendant is not on duty and the parking barriers are up to allow the employees to get into the lot. Well, that’s what happened the last time I did this. Luckily, that’s what happened this trip, too.

Unluckily, the Cliffs were fogged in. Usually, you stand at the limestone barrier and look down the entire lengths of the Cliffs. There is a small swath of grass and cliff top before the Cliffs beyond the wall. Back in the day, people would hop the wall and go right to the edge. But too many people have died, so hopping the wall is frowned upon. On this day, we could stand at the wall and not see the cliff edge thirty feet from the wall, never mind the miles of scenic cliff. We climbed the path up to O’Brien’s Tower, only seeing the tower when we were right up next to it. I needed the tower as a backdrop to recreate more photos of my father and my nephew. I’m pretty sure The Queen would have turned around at the bottom of the hill if the needs of the crazy photographer didn’t pressure her. Pictures taken, we headed back to the car park.

One of our long standing traditions while in Lahinch is to have breakfast at Danny Mac’s. By long standing, I mean we ate at Danny Mac’s in 2016 and wanted desperately to go there again? Why? Two reasons. They open up earlier than any other restaurant in Lahinch for breakfast and they serve chips with the breakfast. Chips for breakfast! If Chips for breakfast is wrong, I don’t want to be right. To be realistic, it’s kind of tiny place that serves a pretty good breakfast. When we arrived at Danny Mac’s on Main Street, there were still a few moments before they opened. We hung out in front of the place like crazy people that don’t enough to wait until 9am to have breakfast. Of course, when 8 rolled around and they didn’t open up immediately, we assumed the worst that they were closed never to open again. We tried peeking through the window to see what was going on in there that was keeping us from our food, but they had blinds pulled. Eventually, after an interminable five minute wait, the doors popped open and we could finally enter. To be fair, The Queen and I weren’t the only ones entering right as the door opened. Food was as good as we remembered. Yes, we had chips with our Irish breakfast. I don’t know why more restaurants don’t serve chips at breakfast.

Back at The Chairman’s House, I loaded up the car, still trying to make everything fit better in that limited space. I did have a chance to use the laundry room on the premise, so my bag of dirty laundry no longer fouled the air of the car.

The drive to Ennis and the walk-in clinic went smoothly. Finding a convenient drop-off point to the clinic did not. I made the Queen and Queen Mum walk a block to get inside the building. I then went and found parking down the street. Our goal was to arrive at 10 am just as the clinic opened so we could be served quickly and be on our way. The only problem, we had been misinformed about the opening time. The clinic opened at 9. The waiting room was already full. The receptionist told us it would be close to an hour maybe more before anyone could see The Queen Mum. We found some chairs in the hall and proceeded to wait. Thank goodness for wifi and cell phones. Well, The Queen and Queen Mum waited while I went for a walk.

During my quest to find parking, I noticed the clinic was just down the street from the Ennis Abbey. Rather than sit in the hot dimly lit corridor, I opted to visit the friary. Especially since I was able to go in free with my Heritage Ireland card. The funny thing about the card is that every place has a hand written ledger where names and card numbers are all written down. The data entry takes time and I can’t imagine anyone goes around the country collecting these ledgers to make sure people aren’t abusing the cards.

The Ennis Friary claim to fame are the carvings scattered around the grounds including St. Francis of Assisi. One of the guides gave me a quick tour of the main highlights before leaving me on my own to explore with admonition to watch out for the grave markers out in the courtyard made slick by the falling rain. Probably the most interesting thing for me were the giant brass colored angels that could be seen through a barred window into the neighboring property. At one point the building I could see use to be where priests could stay but it had turned into a restaurant and the angels were part of the decorations. When the angels were no longer needed at The Cloister Bar, they were dumped out back and visible from the Friary. The docent seemed embarassed talking about them and probably wished I had better questions about the sculptures or the Friary.

At the Doctor365 clinic, things continued to move at a glacial pace. But the Queen and the Queen Mum had graduated into the better lit waiting room proper. I was told they were next in line to be seen or maybe there was one other person to be seen before it was their turn. I needed to go buy another ticket for the car, so I left and did that. I also accompanied that with a walk along the river, seeing what other sites there were to see. This included a giant sculpture of two men debating over a cow that was placed in the middle of a roundabout.

When I returned to the clinic, the Queen Mum and Queen had finished with the doctor. The Queen Mum had more than a little respiratory distress, she had pneumonia. If you have pneumonia, you get to go to the Emergency Room in Limerick. Plans for the day changed. No stops at Durty Nellys or Bunratty or Quin Friary. Our destination when we left Ennis was University Hospital Limerick. I knew the place well. The hospital was just down the street from my old secondary School, Crescent College Comprehensive. The hospital was also near Raheen Industrial estate where my father built the Verbatim manufacturing plant. Those weren’t the only reasons I knew about the Hospital. University Hospital Limerick had been in the Limerick Leader recently and not in a good way. The hospital suffered from severe overcrowding. Horror stories came out of people languishing on gurneys in the hallways because there were no rooms for them. When the Queen told me we had to go to the University Limerick Hospital, those were the stories that crossed my mind. I didn’t share those stories with the Queen and Queen Mum because I hoped those problems had been fixed. Hope springs eternal only to die a savage death.

Cars packed the dropoff area to the University Limerick Hospital. I started to fear the worst. Not knowing any better, I dropped off the Queen and Queen Mum at the main entrance while I went to find parking. The parking lot next to the front entrance seemed to be full. A game commenced where cars circled the parking lot racing to the spots where cars pulled out. I played along as well, finally nabbing a spot after about ten minutes. By this time, I’m backing the car in as well. The lots are narrow and packed and it is much easier to exit, if I can pull straight out.

I realized my mistake about the drop-off point immediately upon entering the Hospital. This wasn’t the Emergency entrance. The Emergency entrance to the hospital was in entirely different part of the hospital. I started walking the halls confused by the signs and the multiple corridors. The play was a maze. I’m sure I walked through areas I wasn’t supposed to enter. Eventually I reached the other end of the hospital and the Emergency Room where the Queen and Queen Mum waited. They had already checked in. The Queen had found a wheelchair so the Queen mum didn’t have to walk all the way from the front entrance.

A TV monitor hung from the ceiling and gave the wait times for the various stages of triages. If the Queen Mum actively bled out, she would probably be seen in ten minutes. Since that wasn’t the case, our best case scenario was for the Queen Mum to be seen in two to three hours. That wasn’t good.

The thought of sitting in the grim waiting room drove me from the hospital. I’m sure leaving the Queen and Queen Mum by themselves makes me a bad person, but I don’t know how me waiting there with them would make the waiting any better. I decided I would spend the time walking to the Crescent College Comprehensive and back. If I made the trip, I wouldn’t have to go back with the Queen and Mum later.

I attended CCC from 1979 to 1981 which roughly corresponds to my Junior and Senior years of High School. In the Irish Education system the program is called the Leaving Certificate. It’s a tad brutal. You study for two years and at the end of those two years you take a test. The results of that one test gives you your grade for the entire two years. People lose their minds prepping for the Leaving Certificate. The joke in Ireland is that people get their Leaving Certificates and they leave the country. CCC is a historic school originally located in the center of downtown Limerick on O’Connell Street. CCC, at the time I attended, was one of the only co-educational schools in the area.

The school and the hospital were only about a twenty minute walk apart. I passed some historic landmarks on the way, including the HiWay restaurant where the Lynch family ate at least once a week despite the distance from the house. My father showed up for the goose liver pate. Sadly, the place has gone down hill in the intervening years. I don’t think I’ve been in there since 2009 with my father. I also strolled by The Unicorn pub where the Crescent Rugby team would go for drinks after practice. I went once. I believe the drinking rule at the time was if the bartender thinks you are 18 you are good to go. The Crescent Shopping Center was on the way. This was the only place to buy popcorn back in Limerick, maybe Ireland. Since 90% of my teenage diet consisted of popcorn, the Crescent Shopping center was very important to me. The area along Dooradoyle Road has built up considerably since my time at the school. I don’t remember any buildings being close to the school at all, except for one house across from the front gate. The school was in such a rural area there was a cattle guard at the main entrance.

I needed to take one picture of the gate since that was the last picture I took of the school in 1981. You used to be able to see the school from the road but now trees have grown up blocking everything. The first thing I noticed walking up the long drive to the school was CCC was experiencing a construction boom. The whole main entrance was blocked off with chain link fencing. I could see scaffolding all around the gym. I knew they were doing work from articles I had read in the Limerick Leader, but I didn’t realize it was to be this extensive.

The sign said all visitors must check in at the front desk, so I headed on inside. I didn’t want to be that creepy old guy checking out the school unless, I had permission. Usually I try to invade school grounds when no one is there, but I had mistimed it and school was still in session.

The young girl behind the glass partition in the entryway was a bit confused by my request to walk around the grounds. Part of the problem for the young lady was the sight of this incredibly ancient creature with a strange accent explaining that he had attended this same school over 42 years ago. She ran off to the back room to get further instructions. When she returned, she asked me to hold on because the headmaster wanted to talk me first.

Ah, memories. The first time I entered these premises and entered the same hall, I also had to talk to the headmaster, Father Morrisey. In order to get into the school, I had to pass an interview with him. Father Morrissey was not impressed by my transcripts from my school in California. He did remark that I was kind of big kid. He suggested that if I played Rugby, I could join the school. Sure. Love to play. Can’t wait. How do you play Rugby? Father Morrissey did allow me to join the school.

But the Jesuits are long gone from the Crescent, at least I think so, despite the fact the college still reads S.J. for Society of Jesuits. Instead of meeting a priest, I was led into the office of Diarmuid Mullins. Mr. Mullins quizzed me about my background and my relationship to the school. He then decided to personally take me on a tour of the school. Along the way, I was stopped several times to share my CCC story with teachers. I was older than everyone I met.

The school was in complete disarray due to the construction. The senior wing where I took classes, was completely blocked off. The main area where we held school functions had walls blocking off the interior so the only way to get around was around the perimeter. Mr Mullins told me the roof over the central area had been replaced. When the construction people went to do the replacement they found a layer two feet thick of straw in the ceiling. Quite the fire hazard. I got one quick peak at the stage through the construction where I starred in two plays. I told more stories.

Before you knew, Mr. Mullins and I were at the back of the school looking at the mobile units being used for classrooms on the gravel pitch where we used to play soccer at lunch time. I had the feeling that Mr. Mullins had better things to do and wanted me out of his school. I asked if I could walk around the outside and he agreed, which I did. Yes, I did sneak into the gymnasium. Last time i was in there, I was taking my Leaving Certificate exams.

At the hospital things were much the same. The Queen and Queen mum still waited for a doctor to see them. There was no indication of when that would happen. Again, restlessness drove me from the waiting room. For this venture, I took the car from the parking lot out to Raheen where my father built the Verbatim Plant. Only this year, did I learn that Raheen means small ringfort, an appropriate name for the industrial park since Verbatim was built on land that included what could have been a ringfort. Aerial photograph showed the circular ring of trees on the property and when planning for construction was underway lots of consideration was given to what was to be done about the ring fort trees. Mostly the consideration was not to touch the ringfort. Everyone told my father how much bad luck would be generated if the ringfort where to be harmed. Most people would site the cautionary tale of another foreign start-up, Ferenka. Ferenka put in a big plant in the early 1970s to manufacture steel for steel belted tires. Ferenka had all sorts of problems including the kidnapping of the managing director of the plant, Dr. Hirema. Many of the locals laid the blame squarely at the foot of Ferenka destroying a ring fort when they built the plant out in Annacotty.

The Raheen ring fort still stands in the center of a large field surrounded by industrial building. Although there was a section of trees that led to the ring fort that I couldn’t find so something must have happened. As for the Verbatim plant, it changed hands multiple times as various companies including Mistubishi and Kodak bought out Verbatim. The plant was vacant for many years and you could go online to see urban explorers pictures of the graffiti covered interiors. When I visited the plant in 2014, all the Verbatim signs were gone. Curran Aluminum now occupies, at least the main building, of the former Verbatim plant.

If you are going to shoot a ring fort, it’s best to do it from the air, to show the circle of plants. Otherwise, you are just photographing. So, for the first time this trip, I broke out my Mavic Pro drone. I love the photos from the drone. Every trip I wish I used the drone more. Every time I look at the drone case, I know I’m going to add another thirty minutes to the stop just getting it out of the case. But the photos are always worth it. Yet, here we are on day 8 of the trip and this is the first time, I’m taking the drone out. I even had to take a test and pay for a license to use the drone. Cheap as I am, you would think I would want to fly the drone more often to get my money’s worth.

I had to try two stops before I found a safe place to launch.I flew from the parking lot of the Curran plant. This end of the industrial estate was quiet. There wasn’t a lot of traffic on the road and I was able to wander around freely as I flew the drone back and forth across the ring fort. Clouds obscured the sun the entire time I photographed. As soon as I landed the drone, the sun popped right out. I should have left but instead I put the drone back up for more shooting. I even photographed the Verbatim building for old time’s sake.

By the time I returned to University Hospital Limerick, The Queen Mum had graduated to gurney in the hallway. The Queen had to come into the ER waiting room to escort me to where the Queen Mum’s gurney was located. As the horror stories, foretold, the gurney was in the hallway along with plenty of other patients on their gurneys. So many gurneys.

Since we were never getting out of there, I called my school friend Mike McMahon and cancelled our plans for the evening. He was very concerned about the Queen Mum. Everyone was concerned about the Queen Mum that I talked to during the day.

The Queen Mum was in for the night. They were going to try and find her a bed but they didn’t know when that would occur. The Queen was not going to leave the Queen Mum without an advocate so she was going to stay in the emergency room with her. My job was to go to the hotel and check us in. Or at least check me in. We weren’t going to be needing two rooms.

Our hotel for the night was The Limerick Strand Hotel right at the end of Sarsfield Bridge on the Ennis Road. I’ve been staying at this hotel since the 2009 visit. I keep thinking I should find a different hotel but I can’t find one that beats cost or location or amenities. I live for their breakfast buffet. When I told my father where we were going to stay on that 2009 trip, he was against it because the Strand sits on the location of the old Jury’s hotel which my father hated with a passion. I think he swore a blood oath never to set foot in that Jury’s again. But that Jury’s was torn down and brand new hotel put in it’s place. He eventually came around and really liked the Strand as well.

I told them my tale of woe at the front desk. They were concerned for the Queen Mum staying at the University Hospital. They were nice enough to cancel The Queen Mum’s room and not charge her for it. They also were going to put a hold on the room so when the time came she would have a room to stay in.I just had to cancel the room as soon as I knew she wasn’t coming in for the night. My only let down was our rooms were not on the side that faced St. John’s Castle, instead we had the lovely view of the broken down Cloynes factory. I did ask for a change but they couldn’t accommodate my request. Since, I had already made enough requests, I let it go. On the upside, I was on the executive floor and although I had not paid to get into the executive lounge where there were all sorts of snacks and beverages, my key worked to open the executive lounge door. I immediately grabbed a bunch of waters for the room.

Lily Kelly was the long time receptions at Verbatim and is probably one of the first Irish people I met when I came to Ireland back in 1979. When I picture the welcoming spirit of Ireland, I think Lily Kelly, although she did get married and now goes by Lily Goggin. I try and see her every time I go to Limerick. But finding her is a bit tricky. She had an email when she worked at the Limerick Institute of Technology, but she retired and that email no longer works. I don’t know why I have never gotten her phone number or written down her address. But I do have a picture of her house with my father standing on the steps which I use to get her number. Then I just pop by and hope she is home.

Like many times before, that is what I did this time only with an unexpected result. When I knocked on her front door, no one answered. A perfectly reasonable occurrence. I’m sure Lily wasn’t sitting at her house waiting for a strange American to pop over for a visit. But as I turned to go back to the car, I noticed a for sale sign on a post at the edge of her front yard. Had she moved? I decided to ask the neighbors. They were home. The nice lady there informed that Lily and Mick had moved about six weeks ago. Well, crap. The nice lady did not have a number where Lily could be reached. More crap. I went back to the car. The nice lady tapped on my window before I could leave. She mentioned that the people across the street probably had a contact number for Lily.

I got back out of the car and headed to house number two. I once again told my crazy American story about knowing Lily and how I stopped by to see her. Nice Lady number two probably was thinking I was really crazy and why didn’t I have Lily’s number if I knew here so well, but eventually she gave me the number.

I called Lily from the car. She was very surprised to hear from me and sad that she was no longer in Limerick. She had moved with Mick down to a little town in Kerry called Ballyheigue. I told her I was going to be in Kerry on Thursday. She informed she was heading off on vacation on Wednesday. C’est la vie. No Lily on this trip.

At this point I’m hungry and decided to go to one of the other pizza places I was determined to visit on this trip, Happy Dough Lucky. They were just down the street from Lily’s house. I had a bit of a problem finding the place mainly because they didn’t have a sign. Google took me right to where Happy dough lucky was supposed to be located but all I could see was Fun World and The Hungry Lyons. Well, I went into Funworld which turned out to be an arcade for teens and I felt badly out of place as the oldest person in there by about 45 years. I’m sure the creepy old guy alert went out to the gardai as I made my way for the exit.

I sat in my car and pondered where to find Happy Dough Lucky, because now I was on a quest, when I spotted what looked like a sign for Happy Dough Lucky inside Happy Lyons. Happy Lyons is a Limerick specific fast food restaurant serving chicken and burgers and other things. And now it turns out they carved out a spot in the restaurant for Happy Dough Lucky. I ordered my pizza with garlic knots to go with it. Diet be dammed. I called the Queen and asked if they needed some food. They did desperately. They wanted a couple of pieces of chicken and some chips. I moved over to the Hungry Lyons sides of the restaurant and got two orders of chicken. With the food in hand, I made my way back to the other side of Limerick eating garlic knots along the way. They were quite good. The whole car reeked of garlic.

I handed over the food at the hospital. By this point, I had learned there was a parking lot underneath the emergency room wing with a dedicated elevator. I got a lot of hungry glances from other patients in the Emergency Room corridor as I handed over the food. I ate my pizza at one of the gurney while the Queen and Queen Mum picked at the chicken. Two orders of food was way too much for them. Nothing says vacation like eating fast food in an emergency room corridor.

I left them for the night and went back to the hotel.

[Greg]

May 9 Limerick

I don’t know when my affection for Limerick first started but it certainly didn’t start when I lived there. I felt like I moved to the 1950s. The city seemed kind of grey and run down. My dislike probably stemmed from being a teenager away from all the usual paths I enjoyed like going to McDonald’s or having pizza. I also bemoaned my like of Doritos Nacho chips to all who would listen.

But now, coming back to Limerick does feel like coming to one of my home towns. Plus, I have built a repertoire of things I really enjoy doing when I am back in Limerick. Foremost among those being walking along the banks of the Shannon. They call the loop I do the Three Bridges walk because you basically encompass the three main bridges in Limerick: Shannon Bridge, Thomond Bridge and Sarsfield Bridge. Shannon Bridge only came in to existence in 1988. Limerick was a two bridge town when I lived in Castletroy. And I do mean main bridges. There are plenty of other bridges around town, too. But the Three Bridges walk takes in the main bridges. Because of the Limerick Strand hotels location, the Three Bridges walk starts just outside the hotel’s door.

I took the elevator down from the fourth floor to the lobby. The glass elevators in the Strand do afford you a lovely view of Limerick as you descend. Accesibility rules in Europe make sure the elevator tells you what floor you are on but my elevator was having a breakdown and kept getting the floor number wrong. For some reason, you have to navigate through four couches to get to the revolving door and then to the outside. I had a fight with the revolving door the night before on the opposite side of the lobby. The doors kept crushing me as I tried to make my way through with all the bags.

I took Clancy’s Strand up to the Treat Stone at Thomond Bridge. Clancy’s Strand has undergone a lot of improvements since I first started doing this walk including new railings and wooden foot path that extends of the original quays into the river. There is a boat ramp dock down into the water and at very low tide people walk down to the mud to go fishing. The area is called the Curragh Falls and was the farthest point up the river big ships could travel.

At the corner of the Clancy Strand and Thomond Bridge on a giant pedestal sits the Treaty Stone. The Stone and the Treaty is why Limerick is referred to as Treaty City. A treaty halting the fighting between the Jacobites and Williamite Forces in 1691. The treaty allowed the Jacobites to leave the country without repercussions and swore the catholics remaining behind would be treated fairly. The treaty was broken moments after it was signed. And legend has it upon this stone the treaty was signed. The Treaty Stone and the pedestal used to much closer to the road, but one too many accidents because of the giant rock next to the road forced the stone’s relocation.

I used Thomond Bridge to cross the Shannon River to King John’s Castle. Yes, that King John. King Richard’s King John. Quite the kerfuffle going on in Limerick as the local want to change the name of the castle to Limerick Castle. King John’s Castle is the only cast in Ireland named after a person rather the city where the castle stands. Plus, the Irish aren’t too fond of their historic structures named for British Monarchs. If you want to get a good view watch the movie called ‘The Rising of the Moon’ by John Ford. Ford used the exterior of the castle extensively. Rising of the Moon is an allusion to a rebel song by the same name. I’ve never been inside the castle. You don’t do tourist things in the towns where you live is my excuse. I keep meaning to go in but they want to charge me a lot of money. I should have visited when I lived in town. Back then there were a bunch corporation housing inside the walls of the castle. I could have visited for no charge. The houses were removed in 1986 to allow for the construction of the tourist exhibition. But oblivious me didn’t even know there used to be houses inside the castle. Although I have pictures from that time that clearly show the houses.
I walked around King John’s Castle along Nicholas Street headed towards St. Mary’s Cathedral. I was happy to see the new Dolores O’Riordan mural on the end of a house as I made the turn, but it also made me sad. The O’Riordan mural replaced the Eye Scream mural that had been on the end of the house since 2013. The Ice Scream mural stood out in the Medieval section of Limerick across the street from King John’s Castle. The mural depicted a man eating an icecream cone that had an eyeball atop the cone. The bald man also had a Hello Kitty tatoo on his neck. For whatever reason, the figure always reminded me of the Yeti. The mural kept getting vandalized and there were complaints about the mural so it had to go. In 2019, they had whitewashed the wall and now, it’s Dolores O’Riordan, lead singer of the Cranberries.St. Mary’s is the oldest building in Limerick still in continuous use. St. Mary’s and King John’s represent the medieval portion of Limerick and actually sit on an island with the Shannon on one side and the Abbey River on the other. Pieces of the city walls still stand scattered around the area.

On this end of Sarsfield Bridge with the Strand Hotel on the other, an old Dunnes Store has been converted into the Fab Lab Limerick, an extension of the Architecture department at the University of Limerick. All of this is unimportant to the walk. But what is important is the artists and fabricators in the Fab Lab have painted all the bollards along Honan’s Quay outside the building into fanciful caricatures. They are all quite out of place in gray old Limerick.

As I continued on under the Sarsfield Bridge and Honan’s Quay became Harvey’s Quay. I also noticed one of those information placards which informed me this area was also known as the poor man’s Kilkee. Kilkee is a resort to the west of Limerick and if you could afford the train ticket, that’s where you went in the summertime. If you couldn’t afford the train ticket, you hung out on Harvey’s Quay and went swimming in the Shannon.

Harvey’s Quay becomes the Bishops Quay and back in the day the area was much more industrial. There used to be a large coal warehouse along this stretch. Poor people would come and gather loose coal lost from the delivery trucks to heat their homes. When the Shannon Bridge opened this whole area was revitalized. Right at the entry to the bridge is a large hotel and restaurant complex that I’ve seen for years but have never entered.

One thing you see when you walk this stretch from the Thomond Bridge to the Shannon Bridge is Swans. So many swans. It just doesn’t seem like Ireland if i don’t make some swan pictures. The best part about the Limerick swans is they like to be fed. And a good place to feed them was on the way back to the hotel after I crossed the Shannon Bridge. Right next to the St. Michel’s Boat club is a public ramp down to the river. The club uses the ramp to launch their sculls into the water and lies right off of O’Callaghan’s strand. I use the ramp to feed the swans. Not today though.

Back at the Limerick Strand Hotel, I got to experience my number one reason for staying at the Strand: The breakfast buffet. The buffet used to be very inexpensive. The cost was about five euros with the price of the room. Now, the price for breakfast is about 15 euros. Still worth the price. They have everything including a chef to make omelettes. Yes, I just use the buffet to recreate the traditional Irish breakfast of scrambled eggs, rashers, sausage and toast, but I could have a ton of different things as well. I was disappointed though to see the size of the buffet has shrunk since I was in River Room last but I still think they have the same amount of food only on a smaller footprint. If you are going to be in the River Room, might as well sit all the way in the front at the tables overlooking the river. I don’t understand the people who sit in the back where they can’t see anything. It makes no sense.

In the planning world, after breakfast we would have headed out on a walking tour of the city center starting at Percy Square and walking over to King John’s Castle. In the real world, I sent a text off canceling the Queen and I’s tickets. I went down to the parking garage and headed over to the hospital to see the Queen and the Queen Mum spent their night.

The beauty of the Limerick Strand underground parking lot is that there never seems to be enough room to put your car in between the lines. I did find the perfect spot next to a handicap spot. Nobody every parked in the handicap spot so the regular spot next to it always had plenty of room. I was only able to use that spot once. It usually took me three or four tries to get the car aligned properly between the lines and the parking job never looked as good as the cars that surrounded me. There were also a ton of concrete pillars around to reward you with scratched paint for any misteps.

Over at the hospital, I parked in their terrible parking garage, although the University Hospital parking lot was much better lit. The Queen had alerted me that they were out of the ER and had been given a bed. It was now up to me to find that bed. I wandered around a lot. Once again, I was probably in areas I wasn’t supposed to be in but I eventually found the Queen Mum’s ward on the 2nd floor. There were about twenty beds in there. No room dividers. Everything was just separated by curtains on overhead tracks. You could hear everything going on in the beds around them.

The Queen had spent the night trying to get some sleep in waiting room chair or actually crawling onto the gurney with the Queen Mum. The best part of The Queen Mum getting the bed in the ward was that when they rolled the Queen Mum in there was already somebody in her spot. Some miscommunication had put another women in the Queen Mum’s bed. I’m sure the other woman was upset to be told she would be going back down to the ER.

Our big question for the doctors, if we could find one was when was The Queen Mum going to be released? Initially, they had given the Queen Mum a chest x-ray to diagnose the extent of her pneumonia. The chest x-ray revealed a dark spot on her lungs. The doctors feared the dark spot was a blood clot in her lung. There was no way they were going to release her with a blood clot. The doctors needed a CT scan to determine if the dark spot was indeed a blood clot or something else. This led to our next question when where they going to give the Queen Mum the CT scan? They didn’t know. It was an involved procedure. The doctor had to request the CT scan. A panel of other doctors would then review the request and decided whether the request had merit. If the request did have merit, the Queen Mum would then get her scan. But, there were a lot of people waiting for similar scans. Next question. Why don’t we let the Queen Mum come back with us to the hotel where she would be far more comfortable, while you make arrangements for the CT scan? That would have been far too easy. The hospital wasn’t letting her go. She’d lose her place in the queue. Our job was to wait for a doctor to come by. When the doctor visit would occur no one had any idea. In the meantime, they pumped the Queen Mum full of meds and let her use a Nebulizer for fifteen minutes. They also brought around food for the Queen Mum, which she seemed to enjoy. The Queen seemed to be exhausted. There was a man in the ER, who I had seen, who had a bloody white t-shirt on who spent the night going up and down the hall all the while groaning. Probably a good thing the Queen stood guard.

Since there wasn’t much to do but wait, I decided I would do my waiting elsewhere. Again. I’m a terrible person for leaving the Queen and Queen Mum to suffer by themselves in an unfamiliar town in a terrible hospital.

I love walking the town as I have stated. But the best of all possible walks is along the abbey canal to the Shannon River. The path then continues up to the University of Limerick. When I lived in Castletroy, which is very close to the University, then known as National Institute of Higher Education or NIHE, my father would leave the house, walk to the NIHE and then along the banks of the Shannon into the city center. My job was to drive down after an hour and pick him up. He couldn’t walk there and back because it would have been too boring. Everyone knew how much my father liked that walk on the Shannon banks that when he left Ireland to return to the states, his friends gifted him a painting that showed that path along the river.

Now, I have done the walk to and from the UL, it’s about a two hour walk up and back. I didn’t have that kind of time so I decided I would take the bus up to the University and walk back from there. Look at me using public transportation. And the bus fare was about $2. I picked up the 304 bus on William Street just up the street from where I worked at Burgerland and where I would take my connector bus home from school. They didn’t have such a thing as school buses. They just made you take public transportation. The bus was nice. There was a USB plug at my seat on the upper deck. I was able to take some nice pictures along the way of familiar sights. In no time at all I was at the Stables on the campus looking for a path to the river.

After a quick stop on the living bridge which connects the campus to student housing on the other side off the Shannon, I managed to make my way down to the river path. One thing about the living bridge, it’s a pain in the ass to take pictures on the bridge because the bridge constantly shakes from the bicyclists crossing the bridge.

All day, clouds had dotted the sky. By the time I was deep in my walk, the clouds completely covered the sky. Rain started to fall. And not that cool, I’m in Ireland moistened by a gentle mist kind of rain, this was the pouring, head for shelter kind of rain. There was no shelter along the path. A few pedestrians tried to get close to the trees along the path in the hope the branches and leaves would afford some protection. It didn’t. They looked just as wet as me. Since there was nothing to be done, I just kept walking.

I desperately wanted to continue along the river to the Athlunkard bridge and beyond, but time was precious. I turned at the Kevin Hannan (or Guinness, depends who you ask) footbridge and followed the path along the Park Canal. In the years, I’ve been walking this path, the brush along the banks has grown quite large. You used to be able to see for a fair distance along the waterway. Now, you can barely see the canal. I thought at one point, Limerick Council had spent a lot of money to clear the canal for boaters. The canal looks impossible to navigate at this point.

The walk ends where the canal joins the Abbey river. I then followed the sidewalk to the Abbey Bridge, which is the newest bridge in Limerick. I don’t like the Abbey Bridge all that much because it blocks the views of Baal’s Bridge. Baal’s bridge looks like what an old Irish bridge should like even though the bridge was built in 1831 replacing a bridge that had stood on that spot since 1340, connecting Irish Town to English Town. Further down Charlotte’s Quay, I ended up at the Hunt Museum, photographing for the millionth time the horses that stand in the forecourt. The Hunt Museum is another great Limerick institution that I have never fully explored but I was going to change that on this trip. Well, not really. I’ve been in the lobby plenty of times. This time I was in the lobby to track down a paving stone I had purchased in honor of my father. The stone was supposed to be placed in a new outdoor garden of the Hunt Museum. I asked the nice lady at the front desk where I might find my stone.

I was directed down the stairs and out the back. There I found a few sculptures and small path lined with engraved granite bricks. They looked great and I couldn’t wait to find my father’s so I could take a photo of it. I looked all over. I couldn’t find it. There weren’t that many bricks but my father’s was not among them. Saddened, I walked back inside and asked the nice lady at the gift shop counter if there might be a guide to where individual stones might be located. The nice lady passed me off to James Horgan, Facilities Coordinator. When I explained my problem to Mr. Horgan of not being able to find my father’s stone, Mr. Horgan explained they were having a problem with the Cobbles. Well two problems. The first problem was that the stones weren’t treated properly so they stones were actually washing away. Odd, because I had just seen a bunch of cobbles out in the yard that looked great. The second was that children had a tendency to move the stones around. All that being said, Mr. Horgan was going to track down my stone and get back to me.

In the lead up to the trip, I read an article in the Limerick Leader Newspaper about a man named Tom McNamara who in April had been inducted into the Limerick Person of Year Hall of Fame for being the oldest Busker in Limerick, if not Ireland. Mr. McNamara was 86. I don’t think I had ever seen a busker on the streets of Limerick and here was a guy who had been playing his accordion around the city center for the last forty years. I wondered if I was going to find him on this trip. As I made my way from the Hunt Museum to Thomas Street where I was going to have lunch, I spotted Mr. McNamara sitting half way up Todd’s Bow just after I left Cruises Street. Todd’s Bow is important to me because Burgerland, where I worked, was just around the corner on William Street. The back entrance to Burgerland used to open up onto Todd’s Bow as well. Plus, The Islands restaurant where I used to be able to get a pseudo pizza was also on Todd’s Bow.

I hung back from Mr. McNamara as he talked to another fan and when that person stepped off, I moved in and asked him if he was the famous Limerick Busker. That was the last word I spoke with exception of yes and sure as Mr. McNamara spun tales of his life and the local area. He talked about bicycles and tunnels under the street and running from the gardai and I would probably still be there listening if I didn’t have other things to do. The man could talk. He had stories to tell.

Over on Thomas Street, I had lunch at Sambros. I was having lunch there because Sambros had just won the award for best in Ireland from Just Eats. Just Eats gives awards for takeaway food. With that recommendation, I had to try the place. Best in Ireland. I don’t think Sambros won the award for decor because plastic chairs and laminate tables aren’t that enticing. The food was fine. I dined on the Smashbros BBQ burger which was two hamburger patties covered with pulled pork, BBQ sauce and crispy onions. Tasty. I don’t know about best in Ireland. I have to do more research.

By this time, the Queen needed a break from the University Hospital. Being stuck in Limbo waiting on doctors can wear on anyone. And she didn’t even have a bed to lie in. The plan was for me to come to the hospital while she took a taxi to the hotel. Before I left the hotel, I cancelled the Queen Mum’s room for the night. Looking ahead, I reserved our rooms for an extra night at the hotel. I didn’t think we would be rolling out of here on Thursday morning for Kerry.

Like ships we passed in the night. The Queen left. I took over her chair. I’m glad I brought a book. The whole ward was a bit depressing, sort of old and run down with older patients filling the beds. No one seemed like they were having a good time. The support staff were all very friendly and conscientious but our real need was to see a doctor to give us some clue as to what was going on. At some point, they asked the Queen Mum if she had seen a doctor yet. This caused some consternation when she replied no. She should have seen one of the doctors when they did rounds in the morning. Now that shift was getting ready to change, there was a chance we wouldn’t see a doctor that day. They ran off to find us a doctor.

Eventually, a doctor did show up. He explained the problems with the dark spot on the lung and the need for the CT scan. Fine. Sure. Why didn’t we do the CT scan this morning then? He didn’t have any good answers for us. The hospital never had good answers for us. I pressed him on when things were going to occur. No answer. It was up to the people deciding whether the Queen Mum got her scan or not to do their job. I asked for the doctor’s phone number. He said his number was in the paper work. The Queen showed up by this time and got to deal with the doctor as well. I joked with her via text about which woulds who up first, The Queen or the doctor. I also joked we should have started a timer when the nurse told us the doctor was coming to see how long that actually took. Basically, we knew nothing and we had to wait.

The Queen just missed the doctor but I shared the information about still needing the CT scan and waiting on the board to give the Okay for the scan. The Queen thoughtfully brought one of the Strand Hotel bathrobes so The Queen Mum could get out of her stupid hospital gown. One of the things the Queen Mum and I talked about was the need for the Queen to get out of the hospital for a little longer. I told the Queen about the agreement, thatshe would be leaving with me for a few hours to go get some dinner with some local friends, the Bradshaws. The Queen was not fond of the idea, she did not like leaving her mother alone with the hospital devils, but she came around. Part of the problem was the Queen was starting to come down with a cold. She was losing her voice so bad, she would text me her questions to my phone rather than speak. We needed to get to the drug store.

There was a drugstore located on the way back to the hotel in the Crescent Shopping Center. We stopped in and picked up a whole passel of Strepsils throat lozenges and paracetamol.

Back at the Strand, The Queen and I had dinner in the River Restaurant. Ann and Brendan Bradshaw were originally going to meet us for dinner but by the time we got to the hotel, they had already eaten, but promised to come by once we had finished our meal. Brendan was the first friend my father made in Limerick. Brendan’s local pub was in the Limerick Ryan hotel where my father stayed while getting Verbatim up and running. They also had offices near each other in the Sarsfield Office Building where my father worked while waiting for the temporary manufacturing facilities out on Ballysimon Road got going. My father and I have visited with them every time we’ve come to Ireland including the wedding of Brendan’s daughter back in 2014.

The Queen lost her voice during dinner. She resorted to texting me her questions and I would give the answers. I told her that our host down in Killarney had agreed to refund our money for the hotel stay once they learned the Queen Mum was in hospital. According to booking.com the owners of the Killaran House didn’t have to refund our hotel money, but they did once I explained the situation to them. Since we were now spending an extra night in Limerick, we would not be spending any time in Killarney and heading straight to Waterford. Well, we would do that if we could spring the Queen Mum from hospital.

The Bradshaws were happy to receive their Yosemite coffee mug. We made plans to do a proper dinner later in the week if the Queen Mum was up for it. After dinner, I tookthe Queen back to the hospital. Then I returned to the Strand and went up to the fourth floor to bed.

[Greg]

May 10th Limerick

I skipped the morning walk and headed out to Quin Friary instead. Quin Friary, which the Lynch family has called Quin Abbey for at least forty years until someone actually read the sign, is the Lynch go to tourist destination when we are in the area. I don’t know why but my father introduced it to me. When visitors would show up, we would take them there. When I started going to Ireland, I would take the Queen. Although our first trip was a bit of a disappointment because we could only see Quin Friary from the road as all the fields were closed due to Hoof and Mouth disease in the country in 2001. It helps Quin Friary is one of the best preserved monasteries in Ireland and not many people no about the place. Quin lies out in the country far from the main roads which probably helps with it’s anonymity. The place is still the same as when I came out in 1980. My main disappointment is that they have started closing off parts of the Friary. There used to stairs that enabled you to climb up to the roof edges and look down. But they have been walled off. Sure, the view was dangerous, but worth it. You used to be able to go into the upper section of the garderobe but that area was fenced off. On this trip, they finally closed access to the upper floor all together. I guess the stone floors can no longer support the weight of humans on them. Much like Ross Errily Friary, there are a lot of Lynch grave markers. I especially like one near the front entrance that was made of black granite. Still looks fresh after all these years. Another fun feature of the friary is that it was built on top of old castle. If you walk around the outside, who wouldn’t, you can still see the rounded bases of the towers.

There are two ways to get out to the town of Quin and the Friary. The quick way takes you out the motorway where you get to see lovely cars speeding along. Or you get off the N18 at Cratloe and head through Sixmilebridge. I’ve taken the motorway once. I always drive through the hedgerows and countryside to Quin. Especially because I get to drive under the worst train bridge ever. The bridge is fine. It’s the turn you have to make going under the bridge. It’s ninety degrees. A long tour bus could never make the turn. One time driving under the bridge, I met a Lorry coming the other way. There was much backing up to allow the truck through. Country driving!

Rain fell while I did the circuit around Quin Friary. I didn’t take a lot of pictures because I have enough grey rainy pictures of Quin Friary. I didn’t get out the drone, either, because I have drone photos in the rain, too. I did take the selfie.

I have two main reason for stopping in the town of Sixmilebridge and yes the name of the town is Sixmilebridge. The bridge in town is six miles from Limerick. The first reason to stop is the duck hotel that sits in a little pool in the river that runs under the Sixmilebridge. The duck hotel has gone through many iterations from a thatch roof to steel in the years I’ve been taking photographs. I also stop there to reminisce about my father. He claimed that the best bathroom in all of Ireland was in the back of the pub next to the duck hotel. The bathroom wasn’t the best because of any amenities but because if you stood at the men’s stalls you could look at the small waterfall that you could see through the windows out the back of the toilet. I’m usually passing through Sixmilebridge at too early of an hour when the pub has yet to open, so I still have yet to verify my father’s assertion.

My next stop for the morning was Bunratty Castle. Actually, it would be more accurate to say Durty Nelly’s which is the 400 year old pub next to Bunratty. To be even more accurate, my destination was the stone parapet on the bridge just next to Durty Nelly’s. I took a picture on the stone parapet during a bike ride out to Quin Abbey from Limerick in 1993. Yes, I used to be in much better shape and the thought of a 36 mile bike ride was something to enjoy not feared. When I first arrived in Ireland, the road used to go right in front of Durty Nelly’s. By the time I returned in 1993, they had a much better bridge and avoided the stone bridge. In 2001, they finally had the dual carriage way completely bypassing Durty Nelly’s. If you wonder how places in Ireland get there name, I can tell you that bun means below. And the castle sits right next to the Ratty river.

In 1993, I took the selfie by placing the camera on the parapet and pressing the self timer. By 2023, I had a tripod and a holder for my cell phone camera. I did have have to move a board out of the way to actually be able to sit on the parapet to match the 1993 picture. I think the boards were in place to keep people from doing what I was doing. Not the picture part, the sitting part. In my defense, the nail holding the board on the parapet was loose and moved out of the way quite easily. Damn Americans and their pushy.

I had breakfast again in the River Restaurant in my customary place by the window. I love that spot. Then I headed back to the hospital to see what was happening. I was getting really used to parking in the underground lot under the main wing of the hospital. I was even kind of figuring out the maze to get to the Queen Mum’s ward. But not really. I constantly missed the turn and would end up in the lobby. The Queen Mum looked fine when I arrived in the ward. Although, the women in the area next to ours got the delightful news that she’d been have a series of micro strokes and they wouldn’t be letting her out any time soon. The woman across from the Queen Mum had done a lot of screaming in the night according to The Queen. It was well passed time to spring the Queen Mum.

I left to go check off some more sights in my visiting Limerick Checklist. I went by my old house up in Castletroy on Kilbane Street. The house was just barely finished being built when we moved in in the summer of 1979. There were a bunch of home still under construction when we did and the road had yet to be paved. My father made a lot of friends with the builders by telling them they were building things wrongs and having them redo things. I always wonder what the current home owners think if they spot me taking pictures of their house. It’s been the same family for quite awhile because the car in the front yard hasn’t changed in ten years. The one thing the owners did do was rip out the lawn and pave over the front yard.

I was quite surprised to learn there was a Jewish cemetery in Limerick. My narrow understanding had no Jews in Ireland and yet here in Castletroy, somewhere, was there cemetery. Don’t get me wrong. The Jews were treated as poorly here as anywhere, but at least they had one plot of land to call their own. I finally found the location of the cemetery some years ago, it was near the Hurler’s Pub. I just had to go to it. There were no signs for the cemetery and the place was surrounded by a high stone wall. You had to climb through a notch to enter the grounds. I only counted about six graves with markers. Some of the markers were so worn down you couldn’t determine what they said. Other’s referred to the fact the occupant of the grave was unknown. I was surprised that people had been buried in the cemetery within the last ten years.

After the cemetery, I headed back to the University of Limerick to buy a sweatshirt. My long obsession with buying obscure college jerseys continues. Yes, I could probably stop with just buying clothing from Tufts in Massachusetts, but I also felt it was time to branch out. They had a nice hoodie for me which will come in handy back in California where I won’t need to wear a hoody for another six months.

I had been texting with the Queen over at the University Hospital for updates. The hospital didn’t want to do the CT scan until tomorrow. I don’t know if foul language was used, but the Queen told the hospital the Queen Mum was checking out today, test or no test. That statement seemed to grab their attention. The hospital scheduled the CT for the afternoon. According to the Queen Mum who had done this procedure before, the test should take about forty five minutes. The test took fifteen. The Queen Mum had been at the hospital for forty eight hours with an option for twenty four more for a fifteen minute test. The longest part of the whole process was getting the porters to take the Queen Mum back to her room. The porters may or may not have been on lunch break when she needed to be moved. Yes, the hospital did give her a lot of antibiotics to heal her but it seemed like most of the hospital time was wasted.

Since I wasn’t needed at the hospital just yet, I opted to walk in to town from the Strand Hotel for some lunch at Spitjack on Bedford Row. The Spitjack used to be a job in the kitchen. The spitjack turned the spit over the fire where the meats cooked. All I know is when I ordered my Italian Rotisserie Porchetta, the waitress told me “Excellent Choice”. Well, if you are going to a restaurant called Spitjack, you might might as well have something cooked on a spit. The Porchetta was really good.

After my meal, with a promise to be at the hospital by 3 to take the Queen Mum to the hotel, I headed for another walk around the City Center. Specifically, I wanted a shot at going up to the top floor of the just opened International Rugby Experience on O’Connell street. I had been seeing ads on instagram for this for about six months and was excited to learn the Experience would be opened when we were in Limerick. Only, all the tickets were sold out. I went by anyway to check to see if they had an opening. I didn’t really care about the Experience to be honest. What I wanted was to get to the top floor observation deck of the building. From what I could see from the pictures and from walking around the building, the entire sixth floor had huge floor to ceiling windows. And the Rugby Experience was taller than any building around it. My hopes were dashed at the ticket kiosk where I was told that the crowd of well dressed people around me in the lobby would be ascending to the floor I wanted to be on. I was not invited.

At 3 o’clock I headed back to the Hospital for hopefully the last time. I had gotten texts from the Queen that she really needed to get away from the woman screaming at the nurses. Of course, the extraction wouldn’t be easy. When I arrived, the two parking lots next to the hospital were full. I had to go across the street to the overflow lot. When I got to the barrier to enter, a small LCD panel on the screen told me the lot was full. I started to back up to leave when a man exiting said I just needed to wait for someone to leave and then I would be let into the lot. There was only one slight catch to this solution. There was already one car driving around inside the lot looking for an open spot that didn’t exist. When the sensor thought the lot had one space, it would already be full. Two cars would race for the one empty spot. Plus people were putting their cars were they could blocking other cars. The math finally worked in my favor and I got a spot.

I went up to the ward and waited. They just wanted an okay from the doctor before she was released. The scan showed the post to just be more infection, not a clot. While waiting I was able to hear through the curtain the woman in the next bed being given the news that she had a series of microstrokes. They weren’t letting her out of the hospital any time soon.

After forty eight hours in town, I was finally able to take the Queen Mum to her hotel room. Her room was much better than the University of Limerick Hospital. My first task was to run across the Sarsfield bridge to the nearest pharmacy and fill the Queen Mum’s prescriptions. We worried that there wouldn’t be a pharmacy open until the next day because of the lateness of the hour. Fortunately for us, there was a pharmacy for us that was open until 11pm.

When we showed up in town on Monday, we were all supposed to go out to dinner with a friend of mine who I went to the Crescent with back in 1980s. Mike McMahon played on the Rugby team and hung out in the library when the rest of our fellow students were taking Irish language classes. I bumped into him by the most happenstance of coincidences again in 1993. I was in line at Pizza Gino’s on Ellen Street, a since defunct pizza place when somebody behind me said “Didn’t you use to be Greg Lynch?”. I turned and asked the man if he didn’t use to be Mike McMahon. We kind of stayed in touch since then. In other coincidence news, his then girlfriend now wife, Helen, also lived at 66 Kilbane St. Mike was confused when he drove to Helen’s house for the first time and realized he had been to the house before when I had lived there. I usually try and have at least one meal with him when I’m in town. Usually, I head out to his house in Nenagh but this time he offered to come into town.

We met Mike at the Locke Bar on George’s Quay right near Matthew Bridge. I have a little PTSD from the Locke Bar to go along with my fondness for the place. The first time I was in the bar back in the 1993 trip, a waitress was kind enough to drop an entire tray of drinks into my lap. But I fought through it. Now, Mike was supposed to have brought Helen with him for this adventure but when he walked into the pub, he was by himself. Turns out Mr. McMahon had a bit of a tiff with Mrs. McMahon and she had opted out of the festivities. As clear as I can gather Mike had told some privileged that he wasn’t supposed to tell. Mike also told us that he got to to stay at the Ashford Castle. The same one in Cong where I couldn’t even walk on the grounds. He had helped a woman from New Jersey connect with her roots and by way of thanks they all went to Ashford on her dime.

After a pleasant evening, I drove the Queen and Queen Mum back to the Limerick Strand. I was dropping them off at the front door so they wouldn’t have to make the hike through the parking garage to the elevator.

[Drunk Monk]

Wait… there’s more to this story? Like when do we get to the train?

[Greg]

You might have been misled to the amount of trains in this narrative.

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

You're not on a train.

[Greg]

Next time. All trains.

Our favorite hospital is in the news. According to public officials, in case of an emergency don't go there.

[Greg]

Still no trains.

May 11 Limerick

From the windows near the elevators on the 4th floor of the Limerick Strand Hotel, I looked out at the sun breaking through the clouds over St. Mary’s Cathedral on the other side of the Shannon. I knew I would be heading out for another walk despite the thought earlier I would take it easier this morning.

I left the hotel and made my way along Clancy Strand towards another rendezvous with the Treaty Stone. As I crossed Thomond Bridge I was rewarded for my decision to leave the hotel to see sunshine illuminate St. John’s Castle and a rainbow over the round towers. I didn’t follow the river walk instead I headed up to Irish town along St. John’s Road. I had to take a photo of the former home of the Lido Chinese take-away. In my father’s opinion, the LIdo had the best Chinese food in Limerick, which wasn’t saying much back in the 1980s, a very low bar. We bought food from there at least once a week. Not far from the Lido lies supposedly the best Fish and Chips in Limerick, Donkey Fords. The unassuming sign above the red door used to be much smaller and you still can’t tell from the outside the building what goes on in what looks like a house. But my parents swear by it. When we came for the Bradshaw wedding in 2014, I was dispatched to Donkey Ford’s to get the parents some lunch. I didn’t know what to expect and it was a pain in the ass to find. My parents loved it despite what the food did to their aging digestive systems. We didn’t have enough time on this trip to partake. I would have liked an unbiased opinion from the Queen and Queen Mum who seemed to be eating Fish and Chips every other meal.

I headed over towards the Milk Market heading through the narrow streets that are a hallmark of this area. The Milk Market was refurbished years ago to allow local vendors to sell produce and other food items. The most distinctive feature is this giant permanent white tent that covers the market. My only complaint is the tent doesn’t reach to the granite walls of the market so there is about one foot gap all around the square that allows rain in. A bit of a design flaw if you ask me.

The real reason I walk over to the Milk Market is to check to see if the Sex Shop still remains across the street. Loveangels always seems to be the unlikeliest store to exist in Limerick. And I was shocked the first time I strode by the store’s garishly painted purple and pink exterior, especially in contrast to all the grey buildings that surround Loveangels. I’m happy to report Loveangels still serves to shock me on Mungret St.

I always find something new on these walks no matter how many times I make them. This time I found a plaque celebrating the ironmongers. According to the plaque Roberts Street was renowned for the many blacksmiths who worked in the area until recent times. The plaque was right across the street from the Black Rabbit public house. The exterior walls of the pub were painted completely black and overlayed with quotes in white paint from Alice in Wonderland. If I drank I would have to go inside.

Back at the hotel, the Queen ate her first real breakfast in days in the River Restaurant. Although, I was disappointed that upon asking for my table by the window, the host said no and put us at the tables farthest from the window where the newbies sat. The breakfast was still good. The Queen mum opted to rest up in her room. We brought her a pot of coffee after several unsuccessful attempts to use the automatic coffee maker in the restaurant to get her a cup of coffee. The automatic coffee maker insisted on putting milk in everything.

With the Queen Mum out of the hospital, it was time to take her to see some of the Limerick sites. And by Limerick sites, I do mean Quin Friary. Yes, I had just been there yesterday, but so what? Here was my chance to go under the best/worst bridge in the world again to temp fate of meeting oncoming traffic while traversing the passage underneath. We stopped in Sixmilebridge on the way out so the Queen Mum could glory at the Duck Hotel. Plus, she was able to see all the geese in the pen next to the car park. Then it was off to Quin. The Queen Mum only came a few steps up the path before she decided she had seen enough. Her strength still wasn’t up to walking. The Queen and I did the tour, though. But we did not dawdle, just a quick circuit around the inside and outside. The Queen was happy to meet some white samoyeds which always makes her day. I found access to one the old castle tower bases that I did not know I could access. I just had to climb on top of another crypt to get there.

On the way back to Limerick, we stopped at Bunratty and Durty Nelly’s for more pictures. The thing about Bunratty is it looks the way you want a castle to look even though it was mostly put back together in the 1950s.

One of the other Lynch traditions is to dine at the Dunraven arms in the little town of Adare that is about ten miles southwest of Limerick. Adare is littered with ruined castles and monasteries but it’s main claim to fame is Adare Manor. When I lived in Limerick, Adare Manor was still owned and run by the 7th Earl of Dunraven. He sold the house in 1984 to an American Business Man who turned it into a 5 star hotel much like Ashford Castle. Even when we visited the estate, half the building was private living quarters and half was open to tourists to help pay for building upkeep. The Dunraven Arms is a small hotel just out the main gate of the estate. Looking at their website, I was sad to learn the restaurant at the Dunraven Arms was not open for lunch. We would have to dine elsewhere. We would still have to go in because there is a chair in the lobby we had to take a picture in.

So before Dunraven Arms, we had lunch at Michael Chawke’s Pub. The food was very good but the service was exemplary. Now, it used to be you could drive on to the estate grounds and look around but as I had found out at Ashford Castle, lookie-loos were no longer welcome. While we ate at Chawkes, I asked if there was any way to get on the grounds so I could show the Queen Mum the giant tudor estate. He told us an easy method to get on the grounds, which we used. We got out of the car once to go into the golf pro shop. One of the things they added to the estate when the American took over was an 18 hole championship golf course. Next year they are going to hold the Ryder golf tournament on the course. They already have the promotional hats and shirts. The Queen ended up with a hat. Since we didn’t quite have permission we didn’t wander around the grounds like you could have done in time’s past, instead we drove slowly through the grounds and back out to the main gate.The men in the security shack wearing top hats were a nice touch.

That was enough for the Queen Mum. We went back to the hotel so she could have a bit of a nap before we went out to dinner. The Queen and I had one more stop to make before the Queen could stop. The longest continually running store in Limerick is Cahill’s tea on Wickham Street at the top of Williams Street. I had picked her up some tea from the shop on the 2016 trip. She said it was the best she ever had and craved more. The Queen and I walked over from the hotel. Cahill’s is a funny place. Half the store is devoted to tea, while the other half is for tobacco. I was in a bit of a panic they had stopped their tea business because Cahill’s website only shows the tobacco products. Turns out they have two websites. One for each product line. The Queen liked the store and bought plenty of various teas. The proprietor even let us sample some of the other teas.

Now, the Queen was done and she returned to the hotel. I felt I still had a need to take some photos. I continued up Wickham street by the Colbert Train Station and headed through the People’s park. The weather decided I needed another good dousing so the rain fell as I made my to Perry’s Square, one of the original Georgian sections of Limerick. My dentist used to be in this area just down the way from Tate’s Clock. I took pictures of the former Carnegie Library and the Limerick Modern Art Gallery. Steel Barron Andrew Carnegie donated money to have libraries built across the world back in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. My favorite part of the building are the whimsical bronze statues affixed to the facade of the building. They are only about six inches tall and if you weren’t looking for them you’d miss them. I was quite surprised when I first spotted them. I took pictures of the church that marks the end of the square before heading back through the People’s Park. There is an exit to the park that leads to St. Joseph’s Place which leads to St. Joseph’s Street. If you read Angela’s Ashes, this is the area where the McCourt family lived. If you know Greg Lynch, the this is where his first serious girlfriend lived. Yep, still walking by her house. At the end of the street before you get to O’Connell Street, you come across the pub where she used to work tending bar. It still amazes me you could be seventeen and a bartender.

I headed over to Bobby Byrne’s Pub which is the next block up. I’ve only been in there once and that was with my father. At that time we bumped into actor Richard Harris’s brother. The Harris family lived just up the street and this was their local. Back at the O’Connell Crescent, I took more pictures of Daniel O’Connell up on his plinth. One day I’ll get a nice picture of that statue. I popped into the Rugby museum again. They were still full. Further down O’Connell Street where it changes into Patrick Street lies the Arthur’s Quay shopping center. In 1981, this whole area had been a selection of run down buildings and a parking lot. When I came back in 1993, the area had become this giant shopping center. Behind the shopping center they had built a nice park. But I thought the place was going to be torn down by 2023. There was a lot of redevelopment going on this area particularly the Opera Square project and I thought Arthur’s Quay would make way for something new. But the tales the shopping center’s demise were greatly exaggerated. The place was packed when I went in. All the spaces for shops were full. My parents favorite Irish Clothing store still did business. Most importantly of all there was still a Tescos at the end. I was going to feed swans. One of the best feeds for Swans is peas. In the Tesco you could buy a kilogram of peas for a euro. What a bargain.

The reason I had made my way to Arthur’s Quay was to recreate a photo I had taken of my father during the 2014 trip. He was sitting on one of the red benches in Arthur’s Quay park reading his paper and he had just looked towards me when I snapped his photo. He looks really happy in the photo and why wouldn’t he be. He was relaxing, reading his paper on a bright sunny day in one of his favorite spots on Earth. I tried to recreate the photo myself by doing a selfie, but I didn’t quite have the right perspective. I needed to be farther away from the bench. I had talked to the Queen about taking the photo but I had forgotten about that when we parted at Cahill’s. I did the only thing any rational person would do I went up to two strangers and told them of my predicament. I though for sure the young man and women, who weren’t from Ireland, would quickly call the Gardai on this strange american accosting them. But the women found it particularly sweet that I was recreating a photo of my father. They even insisted I use some props make the photo more authentic. I didn’t have a newspaper, but I used their school folder as a stand in. Oh, the insane things I do.

I tried to find some swans to feed at the Curragh falls off the Clancy Strand boat ramp, but the swans didn’t seem too interested. The frozen peas sank to the ground and they couldn’t quite get to them. Although a group of ducks made it known they would be more than happy to help with pea consumption.

For dinner, we joined the Bradshaw’s at Woodfield House just up the Ennis road from the Strand. As we drove to the restaurant, I thought Woodfield House might actually be the reincarnation of the Limerick Ryan, my dad’s favorite hotel. But no. The Limerick Ryan continues to constantly be under refurbishment as it has for the last twenty years. Dinner was nice with the Bradshaws. They were well known at the Woodfield House and we treated accordingly. I believe the Queen Mum was happy to be out and away from the hospital. Sadly, this marked the end of our stay in Limerick. Tomorrow, our tour would begin again.

[Greg]

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.

[Greg]

May 13 Waterford

I looked over the Waterford Crystal website to get more clarification about them being closed. Some pages on the site showed they would be open for tours. The one I saw said they would be closed. The tour group opted to check out Waterford Crystal when they were supposed to be open. We had to get an early start on the Waterford tour because I had booked a walking tour for the afternoon that started at 12:30. If you are going to make a schedule tight, make sure it is really tight. We had a lovely breakfast at the Diamond Hill guesthouse. They were a bit understaffed but it all worked out.

I dropped Queen and Mum in front of Waterford Crystal and then went to my familiar parking lot on Bolton Street. I misjudged the amount of money I was supposed to put in the meter, I missed paying for the all day pass by 10 cents, so I knew I would have to come back at some point to put more money in the machine.

When I returned to Waterford Crystal it became clear that they would be opening on Saturday. We just had to wait for ten minutes and then determine which door to use to gain access to the factory. It was a bit confusing. The best part of the tour was the factory supplied wheelchair for the Queen Mum. The wheelchair made everything so much better for her. The Waterford Crystal factory even had small lifts to bypass the several flights of steps along the way.The Queen Mum was very pleased.

Now, I had thought this factory was just for demonstration purposes for the tourist. But I was wrong. The bulk of the glass is blown and carved in this facility. They only really make colored glass in Eastern Europe. Of course, when I brought this up to someone later, they rightfully pointed out Waterford had relieved itself of a lot of staff with the closure of the big factory that used to be in Kinbury. One of my favorite machines in the plant was the automatic crystal engraver. I loved watching the robots arms spin the crystal around while water sluiced across the surface while grinding wheels made precision cuts. Certainly a sign of things to come. It also occurred to me that they had a lot of people working in the factory on the weekends just so tourists could be entertained.

My litany of mistakes added another notch when I decided we could all just walk over to where we were to meet the tour guide at the Granville Hotel on Meagher Quay. According to Google Maps, the Granville hotel lay just around the corner. Not so much. I should have grabbed the car. The Queen Mum barely made it. Shoot. I barely made it. I was having a bit of a sugar crash so I had to go in to the bar and get some scones and jam. That’s my excuse, anyway. I’m sticking to it. I think those were my first Irish scones. I was making so many mistakes on this trip.

Our tour guide was Jack Burtchaell and I actually had a connection to him, albeit slim. I knew his brother through Facebook. Both brothers had attended the Crescent in Limerick. Jack had graduated in the summer before I arrived and Tom was a few years behind me. When I brought up the fact that I knew Tom in some obviously unfunny way in the lobby of the Granville, Jack was completely nonplussed. The expression on his face seemed to ask ‘Who is this idiot Yank?” I decided that I didn’t need to interact with Mr. Burtchaell. The Queen Mum stayed behind in the lobby of the Granville as we headed for the tour. The Queen Mum didn’t need an hour walk.

Our tour of the Viking district was fine. We saw churches. Jack gave us the background of Thomas Meagher, who was all over the town. We went to Waterford’s Christ Church Cathedral where Strongbow and Aoife were wed leading to all sorts of turmoil about who ruled Ireland. And we saw the giant wooden sword “Dragonslayer” that is 15 meters long next to the Black Friars abbey. Jack gave out a lot of information and yet I don’t think he was a very good tour guide. It was like he had a set piece and nothing was going to divert him from that piece. There wasn’t chatter back and forth like there was between us and Brian Nolan in Waterford. At Reginald’s tower, we handed over out ten euros and went our way. I let the Queen go join the Queen Mum back at the Granville Hotel while I went to move the car. I figured I could find a closer parking space to where we were going to have lunch.

Now, there were two different groups in our tour. There were the people who just showed up off the street like I did. And there was the group that came in on a special tour bus and Jack’s tour was part of the package. The tour bus group did not pay when we paid, instead Jack led them back to their bus. I know this because that group was in front of me while I walked to the car. At the tour bus, Jack stopped and took their money. He charged them all five euros. I guess we should have taken the bus tour.

After moving the car close to the Granville hotel, I went to find the Queen and Queen Mum. I thought we were going to enjoy a nice carvery lunch in the hotel. But I was mistaken. The Queen does not care for carvery, a staple of the Irish dining experience. In the carvery lunch, you choose the main meat you want and then you get to choose whatever and how many sides you would like to go with it. I love the Carvery lunch and was looking forward to it.

Instead we wandered down Meagher’s Quay and several other Quays to McLeary’s. I really need to plan on less walking for the Queen Mum. McLeary’s was a good alternative to the Granville. Although we did stand in the doorway for what seemed a long time before a server came out to seat us.

The tour moved on to Dunbrody Abbey which boasted the second largest hedge maze in Ireland. Dunbrody would be a new abbey for me. Usually, when I tour I hit the west coast but this time I thought I should find new sights on the east coast. Granted on the 2019 tour we did visit some sights but we started in Cork and moved south and west. The whole are from Waterford to Dublin was kind of a void with the exception of the Glendalough Monastic village.

Dunbrody Abbey is in private hands so it has bit of a tourist trap feel. But it was a nice trap to be in. The Yew Hedge Maze lies next to the ruins of Dunbrody Castle. Across the road you can see the Abbey. Around the maze is a 9 hole pitch and putt course so you can see why they are trying to cater to a lot of people. When we bought the tickets to the maze, the proprietor asked us if we wanted the map to the maze. My initial reaction was to eschew the map. Who needs a map? How hard can the maze be. I reconsidered and took the map silently vowing to only use the map in emergency.

The game was to get to the platform at the center of the maze and find the names of the 7th Earl of Belfast favorite horses. The Queen led and I followed filming a hyper lapse on my cell phone. Her leading lasted about five minutes until we found ourselves back at the entrance. From there, I used the map to find our way to the center. I don’t know how people would have arrived at the platform without the map. We did find the names of the three horses as well as various odd sculptures hidden in the Yew Hedge.

To visit the abbey, you paid another fee and got the key to the gate. The Queen mum passed on the maze and also passed on the trip over the road to see the abbey. The Queen and I headed to the abbey. I brought the drone. As we entered Dunbrody, the only other couple in the place left. We had it all to ourselves. And since we had it all too ourselves, I launched the drone from inside the abbey. I did a bunch of passes atop the abbey until I realized someone else was flying their drone outside the abbey. I didn’t want to have problems so I brought the drone down. When the Queen left, she didn’t quite pull the door secure so a mother and son gained entrance to abbey, too. They had not paid for the key. I could tell because as I was leaving I could see them driving their bicycles away without having gone to the gift shop to return their key. All in all, Dunbrody was very nice. The abbey had the biggest cloister of any I had seen thus far. Sadly, all the walls of the Cloister had been destroyed leaving only the footprint.

Back at the Diamond Hill Guest House, we decided to order in pizzas for dinner. Now our pizza place of choice was recommended by the substitute owners. Benny, the regular owner was out so this lovely couple filled in for him. They gave me the menu for Chili’s Pizza. The best part about Chili’s Pizza was that every order came with chips. How can you not like that. Now, I have a problem using the cell phone to call Irish phone numbers. I can never tell if I need to connect via the calling code or because iPhones have some special feature to call international numbers I can just use that. What I am saying is I don’t think I have ever successfully dialed a number to Ireland while in Ireland. If they person in Ireland has called me, I can just hit redial. Long story long, the hostesses dialed the number for me on their phone and I placed the order. While I waited for the pizzas to arrive, I caught the end of the Munster-Leinster Rugby match. Munster won in the last minute with a drop kick over the cross bar.

The substitute hostess were kind enough to let us eat our pizzas in their little private bar area. Sure, enough the pizzas came with big bags of the worst chips I had while in Ireland. The substitutes said we had extra chips because Benny recommends Chili’s all the time. While we ate the couple sat and talked with us. The subject of politics came up and we danced around the subject. At one point the male half of the couple opined that we shouldn’t put our former president on trial. That led to quite the discussion. They were still very nice to us.

We called it an early night after dinner and went to bed. We had two beds in the Queen’s and my room. Because we were both so sick at this point, we opted to sleep in separate beds. I consumed as much paracetamol as I could while constantly having a strepcils in my mouth. More water.

[Greg]

May 14 To Dublin

This was our day to see a lot of spots in CountyKilkenny and County Wexford. The itinerary was packed but without too much walking.

We bid farewell after another fine breakfast to the Diamond Hill and Benny and headed towards Jerpoint Abbey. Every time I asked for suggestions on where to go in the East, I heard I should go to Jerpoint. The drive from Diamond hill only took about a half hour. On the downside, today started out with rain. A soft day for Ireland. They call them soft days because the gently rain only makes the fields and dirt road go soft as opposed to completely flooding them.

The Queen Mum opted to stay in the car rather than walk around in the rain at Jerpoint Abbey. The Queen opted to put on all her rain gear from boots to coat. I put on a jacket and left the legs bare.

The one thing that Jerpoint is know for is it’s sculptures. Legend has it that when Cromwell and his buddies came through, they hid all the Jerpoint sculptures. Later people dug up the sculptures and restored them. They did not disappoint. The best application of the sculptures was in the cloister. All the stem walls that supported the arches above used to have sculptures. People used to pay to have these three foot tall bas reliefs put in place. They were also painted. That way as the monks walked the cloister saying prayers they could look at all this beautiful artwork. No drone flights in the rain at Jerpoint. We didn’t take many pictures at Jerpoint because I only need so many moody photos of ruins in the rain and I’m pretty full at this point.

Just down the road from Jerpoint was the Kells Priory. This Kells isn’t the one where the famous book is from. The Book of Kells came from the Kells north of Dublin. This Kells was known for being big and have a huge walled compound complete with six guard towers. Kells was far less commercial than Jerpoint. No visitor center and just a car park. It was quite the hike down the hill through the fields to get to the priory walls never mind getting to the Priory. The Queen Mum gave this a pass, too, settling for pictures from the car park. Now the car park sat on a hill above the defensive fortifications of the priory. I’m no siege expert but this seemed like a poor plan. Invaders could sit on top of the hill and launch missiles into the courtyard all day long. Maybe they needed the priory to be closer to the river?

The only living creatures on the grounds with us were a couple of joggers passing through and a whole flock of sheep. The sheep would have made for great models for the pictures if they didn’t run every time I got near them. I though I had them outfoxed when I stood in the entrance to the wall but the sheep knew of a secret passage under the wall which they availed themselves of. The sheep also had a great time going through what supposed to be the sheep proof gate.

The priory itself was pretty much a ruin. Scaffolding supported the remaining walls as if there was a process of rebuilding. It was quite pleasant to stand on the modern bridge over the River Kings and look back at the Priory. But again, too much misty water falling around us. Back to the car.

On the Queen and I’s first trip to Ireland back in 2001, we hit a bunch of stops on the way from Dublin to Cork. I just have pictures of those stops without any clear memory of where those spots were located. At one of the spots, I stopped to take a picture of a pseudo grave stone at the front of an abbey ruins. The grave stone had the lines of a poem carved in it titled ‘Leisure’. The ruins were just one of those places you saw along the road and you pulled in. You spent a few minutes and then headed off. Until years later you started wondering where the stupid gravestone lay. It didn’t help that in the years between 2001 and now, they had built a new motorway that bypassed all those small towns and interesting little sights. Eventually I found the author of the poem ‘Leisure’ and from there I was able to find St. Mary’s Collegiate Church in the town of Gowran in County Kilkenny. And it was only about a thirty minute drive from Kells. Off we went.

When the Queen and I first buzzed through, I think we just pulled over and walked the grounds of St. Mary’s. Those days are gone. I drove around the church looking for parking but was unsuccessful so I dropped the Queen and Queen Mum at the path to the church and parked down the street. Once again I was excited not to have to pay for parking. When I followed the tourist pair, I realized that the dirt road was actually the road to a small car park right in front of the church. I went back and got the car and parked right next to the church.

What we didn’t realize back then was the church was full of famous relics. We really should have gone inside. There were all sorts of decorative tombs in the church some dating back to the 5th Century. Supposedly St. Patrick was in the area in his day and decreed that churches should be built. There was an ogham stone which had the interesting addition of a cross carved on it as well. The Church Docent was an extremely nice man and I think he was ready to talk about the various features of the Church for the rest of the day. But the brain can only hold so many names and dates. He did take us out to the back section of the church where he pointed out all the carved little human heads embedded in the stone work. Supposedly there were fourteen but I don’t think we found that many. The heads were in the roofless section of the church and the rain had started falling again. The Queen Mum was grateful to find a chair while we wandered.

Another stop that we did in 2001 and in 2019 was the Brownshill Dolmen. I wanted to go back there because the Brownshill Dolmen has the largest capstone of any Dolmen in Europe weighing in at 100 tons. It’s a big rock. More importantly, the Dolmen was just down the road from Toughers restaurant which was really good. We only saw the Dolmen from the parking lot. The giant rock sits far from the car park and we were hungry. I remembered Toughers being just down the road from the Dolmen but I couldn’t quite remember the name. I’m sure I could find it. I couldn’t find it. We ended up at Reddy’s in Downtown Carlow. Reddy’s was an old school Irish establishment and you could tell because they did a Carvery lunch. Let’s say I was pleased to have the carvery. The women warmed to the idea. The best part of a carvery lunch is the wide variety of potatoes to enjoy.

The weather continued to improve as we drove north towards Dublin. By the next stop, Glendalough Monastic Site, the weather was perfect. Big puffy clouds filled a blue sky. Glendalough is another one of those must see sights in Ireland, much like the Cliffs of Moher. On this Sunday everybody in the country decided to take advantage of the great weather and join us there. All the parking lots were full. Since Glendalough involved a lot of walking, we left.

When I first saw the Ferryman Sculpture on the Atlas Obscura I knew I wanted to see it in real life. When I found out the sculpture of a giant skeleton reaching out of an actual pond was located in Ireland I really knew I had to see it. The Ferryman and about twenty other buddhist themed sculptures are part of Victor’s Way Contemplative Sculpture Park. As the website notes, the park isn’t for a fun day out with the kids but a place of reflection. Best of all, the park was on the route from Glendalough to Dublin. Of all the places on our itinerary, Victor’s Way was probably the place I wanted to visit most because it seemed so incongruous to find such a place in Ireland.

From the minute I stood in front of the entrance to the park which is a giant walk through vagina topped by a snake where the clitoris should be and walls lined with spikes and looked over at The Queen, I knew I was the only really excited to be in the sculpture garden. Over the last several years the Queen has developed a fervent negative position on the subject of religion. Her atheism is pretty devout. Being in a religious garden was probably not on the top of her list of places to be. I could see by the look on her face that maybe she should have stayed in the car. Now, her being unhappy made me cranky. At each statue along the path, there are signs explaining the significance of the statue. The Queen read the plaque and started to explain to me what nonsense was contained on the plaque. I snapped back that she was a little too closed minded or words to that effect. Those were about the last words we said to each other until we exited the path. My mood was not helped by two people and their drone in the middle of the Ganesh band of statues, all had musical instruments. Nothing says contemplation like a drone flying around. Yes, I’m that guy. I asked them if they had permission. They said they had. Sigh. I wandered off along the trail.

The setting was quite serene. Some of the statues were horrific. Some where whimsical. My friend the ferryman didn’t look quite as fearsome. The algae in the pond were he sat wasn’t in bloom so the Ferryman didn’t have the covering of green I had seen in other pictures. There was a giant finger tucked away in a hidden part of the park that I don’t think a lot of people found which I found quite surreal. The whole place was full of interesting things. The Queen was glad to bump into a couple of dogs. The Queen Mum met us at the exit.

I had been texting back and forth with the Chairman. He wanted to make sure I didn’t show up to the house before 5:30 as he wouldn’t be at home. Mrs. Chairman definitely wouldn’t be at home as she was visiting friends in the French Alps like you do. We had still time to kill so as my plan still had stops, we made our way to the Powerscourt Waterfall, the tallest waterfall in Ireland. The waterfall lies on the Powerscourt Estate which used to cover 77 square miles of land but now is two different parks. The current owners of the estate are the Slazenger family of sporting good fame. I hoped the parking lot was next to the waterfall, but alas no. There was still a bit of a hike to the base of the waterfall from the parking lot. Although by walking a short distance, the Queen Mum could see the waterfall. She went back to the parking lot while the Queen and I went to take photos and selfies with the waterfall. One rock seemed to be designated as the spot for photos, so we went there passing all the families picnicking and having music battles with their different stereos. Pictures accomplished, we joined the Queen Mum back at the car.

I had gotten the okay from the Chairman and we headed to his house in the suburbs south of Dublin. The Chairman owns a great house, one that he tore down another house to build. While this is standard operating procedure in many parts of the United States, I’m sure the neighbors thought him mad for destroying a perfectly good house. The Queen Mum got the en suite downstairs while the Queen and I were placed in one the heirs rooms upstairs. We were told not to use the heir’s bathroom as, well, no one should be subjected to a bathroom used by two twenty something males. As point of fact, when I used the toilet, it was clogged. The heir had told the father, he was just waiting for the clog to go away on its own.

We had dinner in the lovely kitchen which looks out over the big backyard which looks out over the golf course. The Chairman plays a lot of golf but not on the course that abuts his house. Dinner was beef stew cooked by the Chairman himself. We all went to bed early because the colds were raging in the Queen and I. I’m sure the Queen Mum was still recovering, as well.

[Drunk Monk]

wait now...this story is still going?

[Greg]

I'm trying to get to the part with trains. (There are no parts with trains)

The real question will I finish before we hear the Yosemite death story.

[Drunk Monk]

Ah the Yose death story…

I’ve been running from that ever since. Why else would I be bouncing through so many events afterwards? Well sure, it just lined up that way this year. It abets my denial. 

There’s no trains in that sort either.