Armagh, Fermanagh, Donegal, Belleek and things that go bump in the castle

15 May 2012

533

R. Linda:

The day dawned a bit misty as we left Belfast for the last time, heading for Armagh. The one thing I don't enjoy be the packing up and heading out. Such a chore for a lazy like me! There was a certain sadness about leaving Belfast which lasted all of ten seconds. Once the dreary city was behind us, and the countryside beckoned we were all about the weather. Yes, you would have been right in your element. There were discussions on what kind of a day it was to be, and our driver said a "Medium day," of which the Americans in the van had no clue. AND none of the Irish in the van felt the need to explain it. You would have loved the strange looks like 'what' from the Americans and the Irish resolve to say not a word of enlightenment.

For quite a long while silence reigned as the Americans thought to themselves what a "medium day" could be. They were looking out the window at the cloudy weather and we Irish were content to sit there like we didn't know they were in a state of perplexity to rival a puzzle doer's worst puzzle nightmare. I know this whole paragraph makes no sense, but who cares? That's how we felt about the fine medium weather.

Well now, the big excitement of the day was a stop in the ecclesiastical centre of the North, Armagh. Yes, on a gloomy day, there be nothing better than taking in a few "cateedrals" which was another thing the Americans in the van couldn't figure out, what in God's little acre were 'cateedrals'? Be it known we Irish do NOT pronounce our 'h's, no we do not, so it be often a good time talking in front of foreigners speaking our own brand of English and they not understand a word we say!

So the first 'cateedral' stop was on a very windy hill where St. Patrick's Church of Ireland be found. Well there was some kind of small service going on inside, but our tour guide said to go on in and take some pictures, it looks like a "catlick church inside." Having no clue what a 'catlick church' was, the Abduallah family trooped inside with Dragon muttering, "What? This church is turned into a church for cats? Just what is a catlick?" YUP.

Well, inside we all went filing in respectively being quiet, except for the one token Proddy amongst us, who stepped right up and took a picture. YES, and everyone turned around and this caused a woman to come back to us and as she came she picked up a few hymnals and was about to hand them to us. "Please come join us."

OH NO, WE COULDN'T. None of us are particularly religious so it was a hushed thank you, with all of us backing out but not before Dragon snapped one more picture of Winston Churchill (wasn't Winston Churchill) and again everyone turned around, now quite annoyed like they were going to get their pitchforks and torches and come after us. We couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Here's a couple of pictures of the non-catlick church.

                                                                                   

St. Patrick's Anglican Church

                                                                                  

Inside the 'cateedral'

                                                                                   

Not Sir Winston Churchill but Bishop William Alexander

Our driver being a good Catholic lad would not allow us to leave Armagh without equal time for the other side. We drove over to another hill where a magnificent 'catlick cateedral' also named St. Patrick's sits majestically overlooking the city. We drove up the long drive to the back where the parking lot was filled to capacity. Did we want to get out and go inside asked he? I looked at all those cars and decided for us, that NO we'd walk around OUTSIDE because if Dragon went inside and snapped pictures while a service was being said, there were too many of them and they'd for sure catch us.

So here be a picture as I be an equal opportunity church picture taker, or something.

St Patrick's Roman Catholic Church

As you can see it was a "medium day" it was. 

Now Dragon was not happy about taking in the spiritual tour, she wanted Belleek Pottery. We turned around and made our way to sunshine! Yes, we did. It was sunny on the makers of Belleek. We went in for the tour (which was surprisingly interesting) and then we were out and travelled southwest back into . . . yes medium weather! Here are a few Belleek shots.

                                                                                 

Handiwork on flowers

                                                                                       

An assortment of basket weaving work, very intricate and delicate stuff  being readied for first firing

We reached Enniskillen in Fermanagh and had some lunch. It rained at which we switched the weather report to a soft day. Still, confusion reigned among the Americans. See for yourself the weather.

 

This is a soft day!

After a lunch that consumed a lot of Guinness, we set off for Donegal. It poured all the way to Donegal Castle where we needed to "stretch the old legs, oh and the castle tour be paid for," (for a change). So we filed into the old place and found six other people were taking the tour too. It was that kind of rainy day I reckon, with nothing much to do, so we all took in a musty old castle. And here are some pictures.

  

                                                                                    

Interior of Donegal Castle

                                                                                     

Me favourite thing in the castle a boar's head!

It was late afternoon by this time, and gale-force winds were coming in off the Atlantic as we made our way to our new home for the night Solis Lough Eske Castle. As we pulled up the lights were on and the crystal chandeliers twinkled behind the diamond-paned windows. An old gent in suit and tie was taking tea and crumpets by the window and it looked so very inviting to us, travelled wearied, soggy, and hungry people. But the driver thought he was at the wrong place. "I'll go in and make sure," said he leaving us drooling at the tea and crumpets in the window, and as we sat there the fireplace was going and well, even if it was the wrong place we wanted to STAY THERE! But alas, we were in luck it was the right castle and out we poured and in we went as a gaggle of footmen went for our bags. The place was smaller than the Scottish place in Belfast, but it looked like Downton Abbey! Here see for yourself:

                                                                                   

One of the parlours (taken the next day when we had SUN)

                                                                                        

In another shot, the window is where we saw the tea party that had us drooling

                                                                                        

Our accommodations

                                                                                    

Solis Lough Eske Castle where we stayed the night

                                                                                   

I found a Dragon on the grounds, which I pointed out to the one travelling with us had a strong family resemblance

You may find our night at his particular castle of interest. As I said it was a heavy storm of wind and rain. In our room, we could hear the wind wailing around the walls and the rain pommeling the window sash. We got quite used to it after a while. Somewhere around 3:30 a.m., there was a moan that sounded in our room. We both woke up, Tonya and I.

"Whaa. . . what was that?" Tonya whispered.

I squeezed her hand and shushed her as we both listened. The wind wailed, the rain pounded but we did not hear the sound again. BUT I can say it was odd and we did turn a light on, but nothing was there. It was difficult to go back to sleep because we both agreed the sound seemed like it came from in the room. Could maybe have been the wind, but we did manage to fall asleep eventually.

The next morning I was checking us out when a woman came up to two men who were obviously related, and said, "I hope I didn't disturb your sleep last night when I screamed. I thought there was someone in my room!" Aha! I thought, maybe I heard that woman, but she said she screamed, what Tonya and I heard was not a scream but a moan and it sounded like it was inside the room not far off. So I don't know. I would have liked to question the woman, but I didn't feel I should. 

I wouldn't mind staying there again just to see. Maybe it was our imaginations, we were overly tired, the entire day had been gloomy, but a ghost in a castle, how wonderful is that?

Gabe
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(All photos are the property of © 2012 Irish Memories)