Cashel, Kilkenny and Rathmore 10/22/04

Day 8

Our morning began with a high spirited conversation with a gentleman from Boston, traveling with his brother to visit distant relatives in County Antrim. I swear he resembled Walter Matthau in looks and mannerisms and had indeed lived in the Bronx of NYC. What an interesting man. As a former military career man, he had traveled to every state in the U.S., every continent on the planet and lost several New York friends in the 9/11 terrorist attacks. We admired his bright green cable knit sweater which he bought while souvenir shopping earlier in the week. The color of his garment touched off an exchange with the proprietress of our B & B who claimed Ireland boasts 75 shades of green, not the conservative count of 45 – 60 most guidebooks declare. I felt both blessed and grateful talking with this fellow traveler, charmed by his storytelling and intrigued by his unique life lessons. I knew that at that moment I, too, was creating my own stories to be retold again and again.

Packing up to leave Tir Na Nog, we glanced out our back window and witnessed a Momma cat and her hungry kittens lapping up some milk and canned food. This is a home after all, with children and their pets amidst the other guests, busy kitchens and even busier parents. This scene reinforced my preference for bed and breakfasts for their cozy, homey ambiance.

Driving up to the Rock of Cashel, we understood why it is called one of Ireland’s most historical, provocative and majestic sights. It overlooks the Plains of Tipperary surrounded by fields of (you guessed it) pristine, green grass. Built in the early 400’s, it was once the seat of ancient kings, later becoming an ecclesiastical center after Cashel was taken over by the church.

We took the tour which I highly recommend for the historical value and the wonderful accent of the guide! The round tower was built in the 12th century as was the small Romanesque Chapel. Our guide informed us that the members of the choir were considered higher status than the patrons of the church and thus allowed to sit near the archbishop during the Gothic Cathedral services. Overcast skies and misty rain made the Celtic-cross graveyard that much more eerie. We were told the lights illuminate the Rock at night which I am sure must be quite a sight.

But cheerio, no waiting around for nightfall for these two adventurers. We set off in the direction of the town and castle of Kilkenny. The raindrops were the size of nickels and the sky matched the gray in my sweater. We dashed between drops to a local Christmas ornament shop to purchase a disc parking pass. It looked more like a lottery ticket than a parking pass to me but hey, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Kilkenny Castle grounds were expansive with flourishing green fields and leaves of yellow and orange gracing the trees. The tour of the castle was guided by a knowledgeable English gal. I could be wrong but I think the English accent makes them appear more learned or intellectual. Raallllly dahling as my sister would say.

The powerful Butler family owned the castle for nearly 600 years and the descendants eventually sold most of the furniture at auctions and the fortress itself to the city for a mere 50 pounds! What a steal. We strolled through the long gallery which featured an abundance of artwork including portraits of the founding family. After our tour ended we walked through the town of once medieval establishments that are now colorful modern shops, churches and residential buildings.

This was our last night before heading to Dublin and we considered a novel tip from a fellow traveler with respect to choosing our final accommodation. He suggested bringing the standard Bed and Breakfast Guide anyone can secure at a TI (tourist information)booth. Go to a local well-attended pub. Open the page to the area you wish to stay in and ask the bartender for his recommendation. Figuring his connections are fairly high-status in Guinness Country, he wouldn’t steer you wrong!

As reasonable as this idea sounded, I had my own standards to uphold. My criteria could be called unconventional but by now I longed to surround myself with sheep. Yup, just bring on the bah, bah, bah. Blame it on my new merino wool sweater, attribute it to my old petsitter days but I yearned to throw suburb life to the wind (at least for the night) and sleep with the sheep.

On our nearly 1000 mile trip across and back this grand Ireland Republic, we did encounter herds of cows and flocks of sheep. Each sighting caused spontaneous cries of “Sheep!!...Cows!!!...Sheep!...More Sheep!....” along with an irrepressible giggle or two. Maybe that Little Bo Peep costume from my teaching days was a hint of things to come after all. Ask Steve but I wouldn’t doubt I talked in my sleep with a bah thrown in as part of my dreamy conversation!

A brief peruse of the B&B guide, an even shorter phone call and we were led to the town of Rathmore, a village truly off the beaten path yet only 30 miles from Dublin. Though the rain and darkness made it challenging to appreciate the rural scenery, we did catch glimpses of blossoming trees framing the roads and meadows dotted with few and far between homes.

Springfield B & B proved to be my favorite of all the stays. Margaret, our gracious hostess, informed us that we had the house to ourselves as late October typically signals the beginning of their slower tourist season. Steve was distracted and drawn to a photo hanging in the hall corridor. Not wanting to disappoint me but curious nonetheless, he quietly surveyed the picture of an aerial shot of a large flock of sheep grazing in an even larger meadow. No caption or year on the picture could confirm his suspicions that my dream was at last coming true.

Margaret had retired for the night so we followed her lead with our curiosity tucked in bed along with our sleepy heads. And no, I didn’t count sheep to help me fall asleep though that would have been a hilarious addition to this story!

Tir Na Nog B&B near Cashel Day 8

Rock of Cashel Day 8

Fountain at Kilkenny Castle Day 8

Kilkenny Castle Day 8

Rathmore and Dublin 10/23/04

Day 9

If there is a Heaven on Earth, its name is Springfield B & B Sheep farm! Yes, it’s true, and ask me how I know and I’ll tell you to just look out the back ‘yard’ window. Not only are there sheep but also chickens, ducks and a couple of friendly dogs named Holly and Meg. I sat through our delightful breakfast with the anticipation of a kid getting ready to go to Disneyland. As eager as I was to explore what awaited me by the backyard barn, I had a sense this breakfast was an event to be experienced.

Our breakfast table faced the side yard full of thriving fragrant flowers and plants. The fuchsia bushes grow wild here and we saw miles of these dainty pink flowers along the roadsides on the Dingle Peninsula drive. The scenery added to the wonder of the meal we were about to receive. I guessed the fresh purplish jam served with our toast to be gooseberry but it turned out to be “damsel” berry, a plum-like fruit. My muesli served with banana and milk hit the spot. The best treat of all was the poached eggs with the deepest yellow center I had ever seen. Fresh from the Springfield B&B Farmhouse chickens alright!

Steve had an epiphany when he discovered the reason little flecks of coffee grounds kept floating in his coffee cup each morning. Unbeknownst to him, each coffee pot has a press to assist the grounds from leaving their designated ‘homeland’. Once he learned to compress the press, well, the grounds stayed put!

As an FYI: The Irish love their food and beverages served piping hot so once the water is boiled on the ‘solid heating’ (electric) stove, it is brought promptly to the table and covered with a tea cozy to hold in the heat. Margaret told us that hot soup is only served in the cold months here and expressed her surprise when on her trip to Vancouver one summer, soup was actually offered on the menu! She also said that European visitors like their food served at a much more tepid temperature.

I was about to have an education that rivals any 4 year college I’d ever attended. Willy, Margaret’s husband, greeted us as we ambled by the haystacks and entered the wonderland of farm animals. He regaled us with stories about adopting Bandy, their pet sheep who comes when she is called like one of my dogs at home. The sheep that wondered about their farm were mostly ‘shaggy’ sheep and are the most common ones you will see in Ireland. There are also ‘minority’ sheep, less popular and are bred with the shaggy sheep. He had one or two of the minority sheep in a pen with Bandy.

If I ever write a book about Willy it will be named “Willy’s Wisdom”. He introduced us to the term “fear sensitive.” If the ducks see you catching one of their own, they get scared and lose weight to presumably prevent themselves from being slaughtered and turned into a “table duck.” Amazing survival technique, don’t you think? Ducks are mean and aggressive with the chickens so they tend to stay in separate pens.

Willy also filled us in on a little Guinness family history. Artie Guinness is buried “just over there” (he pointed to the distance) in a 33 acre plot of Dublin land. He was quite the “chancer” (risk taker) who knew a good idea when he had one and went on to build a very successful company with strong family values and loyal employees.

I could have listened to Willy all day as he was so full of good cheer and information. Instead, however, we sadly bid farewell to our rural existence, as marathon day approached and we must travel to Dublin. I vowed to return and perhaps spend several days as a farmhand. Anything is possible, I always say.

A half hour or so later we were circling the Dublin airport about to return our car. No surprise to me but we had to purchase a replacement “tyre” for our rental vehicle. Must have been all those curbs I kept hitting before Steve realized I make a much better navigator. Ah well, live and learn. Once the car was dropped off, we caught the air coach to our Dublin hotel called the Gresham, settling into our home away from home for the next four nights.

I am so glad we visited the countryside and experienced the culture, history, people, food and weather. We are now fully acclimated to our marathon home and prepared to tackle the formidable 26.2 mile race.

Coffee Realization Day 9

Chickens & 'fear sensitive' ducks Day 9

Willy and "Bandy" Day 9

Farm happy Karen Day 9

Off to Dublin with right hand drive Day 9

International Breakfast Run 10/24/04

Day 10

The day before the marathon, Steve and I suspended several of our pre-race rules. Instead of leisurely eating breakfast, drinking plenty of fluids while reading in the hotel and resting our legs, we gobbled a bowl of ‘porridge’ (oatmeal to us…) and wandered out to the cab loading area. Destination? The International Breakfast Run and T-shirt Swap! Several fellow runners from the Joints in Motion group were gathered so we split up into 2 cabs and made our way over to Fairview Park. Margo from Ohio shared our cab and three of us were entertained by our gregarious Irish cabbie. He had much to tell us about the local political scene in Dublin as well as the housing changes occurring on the outskirts of the downtown area.

Upon our arrival, I gave Margo my extra t-shirt to swap as I had brought along 2 for sharing purposes. There was a solid crowd of runners assembled to run the International race. Always weather-aware, I wondered what tomorrow would bring. The tights I wore today were clearly too warm so I began to re-think my race-day clothing choices. I spotted Rob McNair (my electrician from home) near the start line and quickly convinced him of the necessity to snap a photo with me. He does not have an affinity for cameras but was gracious to allow the shot nonetheless.

Once the run began, we were surrounded by the wonder of the world of foreign languages! Citizens from France, Rotterdam, Canada and more joyfully took off for parts unknown. The topic of conversation soon turned to the actual length of this race. Was it a 5K or a 3K? The Dublin marathon website had conflicting reports. I had no watch, I saw no mile markers and frankly my legs were not cooperating anyway so I just RAN. You know what? It was fun! I received a good dose of what I had to look forward to tomorrow. People of all nationalities wearing their country’s colors, speaking in their native tongue, joyfully using their God given ability to run just like me.

After the run, we all received our complimentary International Breakfast Run t-shirt and headed into the Westwood Hall. It was a very fancy sports club with an awesome Olympic sized pool, climbing walls, virtual bowling, pool tables and a sports bar with 20 TV’s (Steve counted!%2

Us @ the Inter. Bfst Run Day 10

Ready to Go Day 10

High 5 to the kids Day 10

Irish Dancers Day 10

Dublin City Marathon 10/25/04

Day 11

Did I mention how dark the mornings are here? It’s a good thing the race starts at 9AM. Steve and I ate our oatmeal in relative silence, peering over at the other subdued runners, lost in their own mental preparation.

As we walked down O’Connell Street, we wondered where all the other runners were. We didn’t relax until we crossed the River Liffey and began to see various marathoners warming up (marathon nightmare being late to a race…). As we got closer to the gathering for the start, the faint sound of Britney Spears’ TOXIC song came from a radio truck, as well as the welcome sight of festive balloons surrounding the start line staging area. As we milled about, the announcer over the loudspeaker proclaimed that 34 legacy runners (they had run all 24 previous Dublin marathons) were participating in today’s 25th year race along with some 10,500 other runners.

Happily dressed in our high-tech wind protected jackets, Steve and I snapped some pictures of the crowd, a shot of us looking fresh and eager and a picture of me with the Guardia (to continue the theme of Karen-and-the-Police started at the NYC marathon in 2000). No Irish national anthem was presented so we sang the Star Spangled Banner to each other (though Steve says he can’t carry a tune if you put it in a bucket and hand it to him), the gun went off promptly at 9AM and off we went.

What happens when 10,000 plus runners venture out for 26.2 miles, laughing, crying, eating, running and even whining together? It doesn’t really matter where we travel to, what language is spoken, the color of skin, the age, size or shape of the people. A marathon is a marathon is a marathon. We become a united community for hours at a time. What made Dublin a delight and so unforgettable were the people (spectators and runners alike), the weather (sunny, cool and clear), the combination of rural and urban scenery, as well as the unique events that only happen when we all gather to experience the magnificence of committing to, working toward and completing a goal together.

Yes, we eat together. A feast in runner’s language consists of Gatorade, Mars Bars, an occasional Jolly Rancher, a bite of orange, banana or PBJ sandwich at mile 20 and even a few shoe string potato sticks with vinegar. Spectators handed out homemade snacks and runners carry their provisions in their waist packs.

The weather surely cooperated and this encouraged a steady stream of spectators. Every cheer and sign becomes a personal generic supportive gesture! “You are Heroes” by the Aids Foundation group, “Whey hey” (our version of Whoo hoo), “I love Linn” with a 4 leaf clover attached to the name, even the Adidas billboard announcing, ”Impossible is Nothing” provided the much needed visual boost mile after mile. A caring wave, a “Brilliant ” and “Well Done!” greeting lifted our spirits in powerful ways.

We thought we’d spread a little American cheer ourselves! Steve purchased various postcards at home (Disney characters being the favorite) and wrote a return address on the back. I couldn’t wait to watch those beautiful little Irish eyes smile when they held their Mickey and Pluto card in their little gloved hands. We are hoping to make some new pen-pal friends!

Long distance runners are especially sensitive to sights and sounds that characterize the marathon course. Dublin’s marathon scenery boasted a variety of picturesque sights to behold. Majestic trees forming an autumn canopy as we ran through a residential district, ancient monuments, cathedrals and even the ominous Kilmainham jail lined the course. Acres of Phoenix parkland with its own Dublin zoo(all I saw was a sign for guinea pigs…) was a welcome sight indeed. The round Parliamentary building that houses the local government business led the way to the infamous wax museum (did you see that monster hanging from the stone rafter?) as well as the National Art Museum. Certainly Dublin has many interesting intriguing historical points to explore and we got a ring side seat for it all.

A marathon is, however, for the most part, a fraternity of sorts, a group drawn together somewhere between the experience of the Titanic and a team of NASA space explorers ready to land on the moon yet again. My fellow runners share band aids, stories, a “God Bless You” when needed and even occasionally make fashion statements. We met an English lady with a stylish NYC marathon jacket who announced she was gearing up for the Nov. ’04 race “a week Sunday next” as she put it. Even the volunteers’ red jackets were impressive – I wanted one.

We all begin to recognize each other on the course as we settle into our perspective pace. I greeted several runners we had met yesterday on the bus and at the international run. Several times on the course I even had the privilege to hug Laura, my t-shirt swap buddy! As a group we are unique, resourceful and exceptional. A few noteworthy examples were as follows: Perry, a sight-impaired gentleman from Canada who got engaged at a previous NYC marathon, a troop of young military gents formed a united front and several soldiers pulled a mock army buddy on a gurney to make their war statement.

And of course no marathon is complete without music and Dublin was no exception. A multi-talented runner with the t-shirt http://www.walkasong.org/ even carried a song list and took requests as he sang his way through 26.2 miles. It wasn’t long before a gaggle of feisty teenage spectators begged to borrow his drum and his spoon instruments to join in the fun. Mr. Walkasong and I sang “Doe a Deer” from Sound of Music but he wouldn’t sing Steve’s request of “When Irish Eyes are Smiling”. A few gracious spectators on the course selected a number of motivating radio tunes such as “Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen, “Walk 500 miles” by the Proclaimers. Though we were running by and couldn’t enjoy the music for long, it certainly put a spring in our step for the moment! A pack of enthusiastic girls running behind us at mile 23 gave us their rendition of “We’ll be Coming around the Mountain“. I am sure the Guinness drinkers at the local pub we ran past would have gladly raised their glasses in song had we asked.

Note to self: 1 pot of Irish tea a day for a week tends to be dehydrating! Inbetween the numerous porta-loo stops (don’t you just LOVE some of the unique differences in the English language?), I did notice a few items I sure wish I could have carried home with me. I am not above picking up interesting discarded clothing along the course (this time it was bandanas, lovely pair of gloves, a shirt and a pair of socks). As strands of loose hair kept falling in my face, I was hoping to spot a headband or two. But what I really looked for is cold hard cash. Don’t laugh, I found a $20.00 bill on the course in Washington DC last fall! Alas, Dublin had coins scattered here and there but once I had the wherewithal to bend over and try to pick them up, I realized they were actually imbedded in the asphalt.

There does come a point in all marathon distance races when the joviality and fun wears thin. In fact, the last few miles begin to resemble a weekly episode of Comedy Central. You laugh, we don’t. My lower lip began to protrude at mile 19 (“This isn’t much fun anymore”) and while Steve steadfastly assured me of his support, I knew he had long ago turned off the timer that was to assist us in our pacing. All around us, the herd began to grumble. One gal stopped to stretch every few yards, holding onto a brother and father who popped in for encouragement. A funny English gal kept teasing anyone who’d listen with “Are you complaining AGAIN?” Well yes, kinda. I did almost get blown off the road near Busby Park by an overeager bus. But to be honest, I’m not sure I was running in a straight line by then and I am sure I couldn’t have picked myself up had I been knocked over!

Was I completely losing it? A block full of discarded water cups began to resemble horses clip clopping behind me! One blessed volunteer asked me if I wanted to sit down at mile 20 and I said “No thanks, I’m just feeling a little loopy.” Sit down? NO! I will not concede defeat!

The race directors had their sense of humor when they designed the last sector of the race in a square with the finish line in full view for most of the last ½ mile! Steve proclaimed several times he’d like to “take off but (he)didn’t want to show off” and once the end was in sight he announced “I’m gonna sprint to the finish line” though his legs helped him to quickly reconsider.

I did cross the finish line with a smile on my face, our full names were called and we snapped a few final pictures with our bright shiny medals around our necks. Our finisher t-shirts would need to be mailed since they ran out of everything but small sizes. The wind began to pick up on our way back to the hotel as we watched more runners come into the finishing area. And a rather inebriated gentleman kept congratulating us by saying “fair play.” At least I think he meant congratulations! We were hungry, cold, tired, our feet ached yet our spirits were happy and strong. “I’m getting too old for this” became “When can we start training for our next one!”

Whoo hoo we are ready Day 11

Phoenix Park Day 11

Postcards to the kids Day 11

Karen & the Irish police Day 11

Those wacky teens Day 11

All done 26.2 miles Day 11

Kilmainham Gaol and Dublin City 10/26/04

Day 12

Our last day in Ireland was spent doing two very important things -- walking our sore marathon legs so as not to stiffen up and taking the Dublin City Sightseeing Tour.

It was suggested that the Gray Line/Guided tour was the most comprehensive and we found that to be true. Steve and I recognized many of the sites from our run yesterday including Phoenix Park, National Wax Museum and the bridge over the River Liffey on O'Connell Street.

Wishing we had purchased the Heritage Card (very worthwhile discount entrances to many museums and historical sites), we stopped at the Kilmainham Gaol (jail) and took the informative tour.

I immediately felt as if I had stepped on the movie set to Shawshank Redemption. The last prisoner was released in 1924 and the jail laid in virtual ruins until 1960. Restored to its eerie presence, one can view the solitary cells, grim prison yard and hear all details of Ireland's fight for independence. It sent shivers up my spine and I don't think it was only from the chilly overcast temperature!

Our last bit of sightseeing took us to the Trinity College campus. Seeing all the young students walking across campus, I couldn't help but reminisce back to my college days. How could over 30 years have passed? Trinity has long been Ireland's most prestigious college. The old library holds the ancient Book of Kells, one of the oldest books in the world dating back to AD 800. This tour was worth the time, both the amazing illustrations and text so delicately preserved and pages even turned on a regular basis. The 200 foot long main library chamber is stacked to the ceiling with some 200,000 of the oldest library books. Again we were fortunate to be here in October as the summer months boast lines of tourists eager to see such an historical popular landmark.

Back to the Gresham Hotel we went to conquer the packing monster. Maneuvering souvenirs, my precious sweater, and our 12 days worth of clothes into our rolling suitcases was quite a feat. Experiencing a bit of melancholy to leave this lovely country, we vowed to return again soon, perhaps more travel savvy and certainly eager to explore sights unseen.

Kilmainham Gaol (jail) Day 12

Eerie jail scene Day 12

Outside of jail Day 12

Trinity College Day 12

On the Way Home

Bye-bye Day

Our bye bye day started at Heathrow Airport outside of London. In the corridor on the way to the plane was the most fascinating mural. Each picture was a representation of a local custom, interpreted uniquely depending on the country. For example, in the United States a pest is something to extinguish whereas in China it might be a delicacy! There are many ways to show “Welcome”.

The ride home was smooth with several opportunities to view the land below. We saw Greenland covered in ice (and Iceland is covered in green!) and Canada resembles a patchwork of snow and green valleys. Once we landed at LAX, Steve finally conceded to use a smart cart and wheeled our overstuffed bags to the shuttle van. As Dorothy always says, “There is no place like home.”

Murals in Heathrow Bye Bye day

Greenland Bye Bye Day