16 May 2012
534
R. Linda:
Earlier that night (before we heard the moan in our room), we had come in out of the storm and settled into our respective rooms. Tonya and I had decided to forgo tea and scones and go straight for dinner. Me parents were the only couple going for tea and a late dinner. So I told Tony I'd make the reservations for the first sitting and meet him and Dragon either at table or in the bar.
Tony was at the bar when we came down (Dragon was still dressing) and he had started a conversation with two of the bartenders. The two were laughing and enjoying Big Tony it seemed as Tonya and I joined him. He introduced us to his new friends who I will say had the art of hustling and gabbing down pat. Yes, a play on words there. But not such a play as Big Tony came out with.
The bar was doing a nice business. It was early, most of the castle was either still at tea, relaxing, or in their rooms getting dressed for dinner (something that Tonya loved and suggested we do at home -- as if!) so the boyos behind the bar had some time to make us feel welcome.
Tony said to me he felt more welcome with "these two guys" than anywhere he'd been so far.
"The sayin' goes Tony, dat in Ireland dere are no strangers, only friends you 'aven't met before."
"Roit you go!" Conor, one of the tenders of the bar exclaimed.
Tony asked in his Jersey style, "Hey Con, let me ask youse guys how yas Paddys celebrate Paddy's day?"
OH MY FREAKING GOD THE MAN! Okay, we were officially in the SOUTH OF IRELAND and the last thing one does is refer to Irishmen as Paddys. Even when it is thrown in on a day that the U.S.A. celebrates as an excuse to party. The put-down of Paddy or Mick be just below the surface feelings in some and I did not know if either of our tending barkeeps were feeling that or not.
Both men looked at each other and then started laughing their arses off. Amazingly they took no offence but they were laughing AT Tony, not with him. I chuckled to meself as Tonya looked like she wanted to crawl under the bar top. I tell ya! You can't take the Abduallahs anywhere except their daughter.
"We spend it in church," the other bartender, Seamus said with a wicked grin on his face. "We don't party much oop 'ere we don't, but dey do in Dooblin."
"Dublin? Big party there, huh?" Tony pushed on oblivious.
Then the two had this feigned argy of which city held the best "Paddys party" and oh my, it was Paddys this and Paddys that. I couldn't hold it together I joined them, Tony was getting a kick out of it but Tonya slid off her barstool and went in search of her mother. She'd had enough.
We were called to our table in the nick before this all got out of any more control than it was going. As it was Conor was all about Tony coming back for a nightcap afterwards and more "interestin' conversation wit yer new Paddy friends."
I made sure the wine ordered for dinner mostly went into Tony's glass so he'd be tired and want to go to bed not back to the two waiting to ply him with strong drink and blarney for their own amusements.
That was one of Big Tony's regrets the next morning, that he WAS too wined and dined that night to return to the two men he considered his closest Irish friends with the exception of his sainted son-in-law. Oi!
As I said, the next morning was sunny and fair. So it was onto Sligo. As we drove into the west, Dragon noticed the signs were no longer in English. She thought it was French! I tell ya, the woman.
"OH I thought that was a trailer park," she said and then looked at me with a glint of humour, "like back in the States."
She used me own argy I used on her that this or that is like "back in the States." Trying to one-up me with me own sayings. Anyway, me not speaking Gaelic (well I be from the North!) I had a bit of a time reading some of the signage meself, me da was the same. But we both knew Dragon didn't know that the people spoke English as well as Gaelic but they were all speaking Gaelic around us when this all started. I sent them all out to the car then asked in English where the stuff they wanted was and I got everything everyone wanted and was considered a hero (they are so easy) and off we went with our drinks and crisps enough to tie us over until dinner.
As we travelled south the weather became glorious and we made excellent time into Claremorris where there was nothing to see, but our driver pulled into a public parking lot and gave us the usual announcement, "You can stretch yer legs and get sum loonch. Oh, dere be a view frum da bridge just around da corner." So we all got out, grabbed what we needed including cameras and went around the corner to the bridge where the view . . . well it was of railroad tracks! I had to laugh, I got the distinct impression our driver hadn't been in Claremorris EVER. There was nothing to take pictures of really but this:
We had drinks here since we had loaded up on snacks we weren't hungry:
For the first time, we had drinks in a place that WASN'T on the tour, an authentic non-tourist Irish pub. The fire was going (it was a windy chilly day), and was very inviting. The locals didn't mind us a bit and we spent about an hour enjoying ourselves and Irish coffees.
Reluctantly we left the hospitality of the Shamrock Bar and headed for the place where The Quiet Man was filmed and our next home for a few days Ashford Castle. I will say Cong Abbey was worth seeing, we did not bother much with the sites where The Quiet Man was filmed out on the River Corrib, but a few of the famous places were in your face so to speak. Here are a few shots from there in County Mayo.
A couple shots of the abbey ruins
And the two landmarks seen in the film The Quiet Man, Pat Cohan's pub being the first.
R. Linda:
Earlier that night (before we heard the moan in our room), we had come in out of the storm and settled into our respective rooms. Tonya and I had decided to forgo tea and scones and go straight for dinner. Me parents were the only couple going for tea and a late dinner. So I told Tony I'd make the reservations for the first sitting and meet him and Dragon either at table or in the bar.
Tony was at the bar when we came down (Dragon was still dressing) and he had started a conversation with two of the bartenders. The two were laughing and enjoying Big Tony it seemed as Tonya and I joined him. He introduced us to his new friends who I will say had the art of hustling and gabbing down pat. Yes, a play on words there. But not such a play as Big Tony came out with.
The bar was doing a nice business. It was early, most of the castle was either still at tea, relaxing, or in their rooms getting dressed for dinner (something that Tonya loved and suggested we do at home -- as if!) so the boyos behind the bar had some time to make us feel welcome.
Tony said to me he felt more welcome with "these two guys" than anywhere he'd been so far.
"The sayin' goes Tony, dat in Ireland dere are no strangers, only friends you 'aven't met before."
"Roit you go!" Conor, one of the tenders of the bar exclaimed.
Tony asked in his Jersey style, "Hey Con, let me ask youse guys how yas Paddys celebrate Paddy's day?"
OH MY FREAKING GOD THE MAN! Okay, we were officially in the SOUTH OF IRELAND and the last thing one does is refer to Irishmen as Paddys. Even when it is thrown in on a day that the U.S.A. celebrates as an excuse to party. The put-down of Paddy or Mick be just below the surface feelings in some and I did not know if either of our tending barkeeps were feeling that or not.
Both men looked at each other and then started laughing their arses off. Amazingly they took no offence but they were laughing AT Tony, not with him. I chuckled to meself as Tonya looked like she wanted to crawl under the bar top. I tell ya! You can't take the Abduallahs anywhere except their daughter.
"We spend it in church," the other bartender, Seamus said with a wicked grin on his face. "We don't party much oop 'ere we don't, but dey do in Dooblin."
"Dublin? Big party there, huh?" Tony pushed on oblivious.
Then the two had this feigned argy of which city held the best "Paddys party" and oh my, it was Paddys this and Paddys that. I couldn't hold it together I joined them, Tony was getting a kick out of it but Tonya slid off her barstool and went in search of her mother. She'd had enough.
We were called to our table in the nick before this all got out of any more control than it was going. As it was Conor was all about Tony coming back for a nightcap afterwards and more "interestin' conversation wit yer new Paddy friends."
I made sure the wine ordered for dinner mostly went into Tony's glass so he'd be tired and want to go to bed not back to the two waiting to ply him with strong drink and blarney for their own amusements.
That was one of Big Tony's regrets the next morning, that he WAS too wined and dined that night to return to the two men he considered his closest Irish friends with the exception of his sainted son-in-law. Oi!
As I said, the next morning was sunny and fair. So it was onto Sligo. As we drove into the west, Dragon noticed the signs were no longer in English. She thought it was French! I tell ya, the woman.
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| French? Really? |
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| I thought this would be a dead giveaway that we had entered the Gaelic-speaking region of Ireland |
So then she saw the mountain of Ben Bulben and wanted to know "WHAT IS THAT?"
Photo courtesy © 2012 Irish Memories
The famous Sligo scenery featuring Ben Bulben or What Is That? Looks man-made to Dragon - Oh for sure. Gees Dragon!
In the way of looks, Ben Bulben resembles Table Mountain in South Africa. And I do wonder if that be why our friend Wolfie who be from this area of Sligo, found Cape Town, S.A. much like home? Anyway, the mountain has a legend about it. It stands over 17,000 feet high, be made up of limestone and shale, but it also has a Celtic legend which goes like this. Diarmuid Ua Duibhne found himself fooled by our famous giant Fionn Mac Cumhail into fighting a boar during a boar hunt Mac Cumhail had invited him to. This was not just any boar (since you like boar heads as much as I, you'll find this interesting R. Linda), but one that had magical powers. You see Diarmuid won the heart of Grainne, who was to be the wife of Mac Cumhail, but she fell in love with Diarmuid and ran off with him, and this of course, did not sit well with our giant. The fight came about and the boar pierced Diarmuid's heart it did through trickery with one of its sharp tusks killing the warrior. Mac Cumhail had the power to bring him back to life but through trickery of his own, did not use it. The mountain be supposedly the place of Diarmuid's grave. Another big giant I would assume.
I knew where we were off to, Drumcliffe the second graveyard (full of those damn screeching rooks) we were to visit. I had to wonder who among this group would appreciate William Butler Yeats. Well, I was not disappointed, none of them. As a matter of fact, as we stopped to see the famous headstone with its equally famous inscription, me father-in-law said to our driver, "I hate poets, especially dead ones." Yes, indeed, and shortly we were gathered to be off.
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| Photo courtesy © 2012 Irish Memories William Butler Yeats and his George rest here in Sligo the land of poets, famous dead ones |
As we tooled down the road we stopped at a grocery store in Sligo City (Wolfie's hometown) for drinks and sannys. The place was located on the outskirts of town. Dragon had me and me da by the arms, "I notice these people don't speak English and their signs are all in some funny-looking language I don't understand, I think it's French. You'll have to help me out. Have we arrived in the traveller or tinker section of Ireland where they speak that upside-down stuff like Brad Pitt did in that movie?"
OH BOY.
"There are some of those people about but we passed them up on the border to Sligo when you saw that funny-looking 'man-made' mountain you told me Ben Bulben was."
Yes, she did, she had said it looked like all the dirt in Ireland had been dumped in one place and then smoothed down on top like a dump. I was looking at old Ben thinking it was so huge how could anyone in their right mind think that! But look who came up with that fantastic story. Was it any wonder?
"Don't you remember we were discussing the fact the tinkers use what we call caravans and you in the States call trailers instead of the old horse and decorated wagon?" I said to her blank face, "Where the peat was drying alongside the road?" I prodded and suddenly it hit her. "Remember?"
OH BOY.
"There are some of those people about but we passed them up on the border to Sligo when you saw that funny-looking 'man-made' mountain you told me Ben Bulben was."
Yes, she did, she had said it looked like all the dirt in Ireland had been dumped in one place and then smoothed down on top like a dump. I was looking at old Ben thinking it was so huge how could anyone in their right mind think that! But look who came up with that fantastic story. Was it any wonder?
"Don't you remember we were discussing the fact the tinkers use what we call caravans and you in the States call trailers instead of the old horse and decorated wagon?" I said to her blank face, "Where the peat was drying alongside the road?" I prodded and suddenly it hit her. "Remember?"
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| Peat drying by the roadside |
"OH I thought that was a trailer park," she said and then looked at me with a glint of humour, "like back in the States."
She used me own argy I used on her that this or that is like "back in the States." Trying to one-up me with me own sayings. Anyway, me not speaking Gaelic (well I be from the North!) I had a bit of a time reading some of the signage meself, me da was the same. But we both knew Dragon didn't know that the people spoke English as well as Gaelic but they were all speaking Gaelic around us when this all started. I sent them all out to the car then asked in English where the stuff they wanted was and I got everything everyone wanted and was considered a hero (they are so easy) and off we went with our drinks and crisps enough to tie us over until dinner.
As we travelled south the weather became glorious and we made excellent time into Claremorris where there was nothing to see, but our driver pulled into a public parking lot and gave us the usual announcement, "You can stretch yer legs and get sum loonch. Oh, dere be a view frum da bridge just around da corner." So we all got out, grabbed what we needed including cameras and went around the corner to the bridge where the view . . . well it was of railroad tracks! I had to laugh, I got the distinct impression our driver hadn't been in Claremorris EVER. There was nothing to take pictures of really but this:
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| Dragon was captivated by these. |
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| And these were all over town (there's that French again, LOL) |
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| Welcoming peat fire |
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| They love their Liverpool footy at the Shamrock |
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| River Corrib, Cong, County Mayo |
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| The Market Cross which says: Or do Niahol ag do Gillibard O Doubthaigh rabid abide act Cunga, which means: Pray for Niahol and for Gillibard O'Duffy who were abbots of Cong |
And then it was on to our next castle for the night.
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
(All photos are the property of © 2012 Irish Memories)
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
(All photos are the property of © 2012 Irish Memories)
