07-14-2023, 02:15 PM
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.
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.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm