Bunratty Castle

After we left Ennis we made our way to Bunratty Castle, a huge tourist attraction in the town of Bunratty. They have a folk park set up with 19th century cottages. It was quite large and we actually didn't get through all of it as we were trying to make our way to Limerick afterwards.

Ireland 2007--Bunratty Castle

The castle itself was impressive for the work that's been done in restoring it. It was the most interesting for various rooms. After we left the castle, I looked at a map again and realized I'd missed a few rooms, although I was sure I'd gone through all for towers and the staircases, but it was a maze, probably done on purpose in case it was besieged.

Bunratty had their own mead but we didn't have time to stop at the meadery. Next time I'd alot more time to see this and the rest of the village. Some of the cottages has various wares to sell in them, whether food or woolens or other souvenir items.

Ennis

Ireland 2007--Ennis

Ennis is in the southwest of Ireland and we stayed the night after our long drive through the Burren. We found a little B&B a little farther out of the town center. All the Irish towns have the oldest buildings at the center and the newer more moderns ones the farther out you go. Rose cottage wasn't a cottage but had a small dining area as well as a pub downstairs and quite lovely and clean rooms upstairs. The food seemed kind of Americanized so we went into town and found one of few restaurants open. The food was extremely good, one of those higher end restaurants. Olddly I don't seem to remember the name of any of the places we ate.

After dinner my sister and I wandered up the street to a cute little pub. There were people playing inside but as opposed to an organized band they were more just jamming. A fiddler or two, I think one on bodhran but it was very low key and background. I don't even remember much about that pub.

The next day we wandered about the town which still has many medieval buildings. I think it was my favourite town for the looks and being just a pretty place. There were many interesting shops and I wouldn't have minded more time there. We found our way to the Ennis Friary by asking the Garda since we somehow couldn't find a street that went through and it turns out there is the old one, the ruins, and the new one which is still in use.

I believe this was the beginning of our second week. No on Thursday Oct. 4. The pictures all have captions that pretty much says the rest so I'll stop here except for saying when I go back I'm going to spend more time in this town.

Dysert O'Dea

We accidentally found Dysert O'Dea (pronounced O'Day), which was good as it was in the guidebook as having this wonderful doorway. But it was at the end of the day and Oct. so as we drove up to this rather small castle, we knew it was closed. There was a guy sitting in a Hummer like truck parked at the front of the castle. He was nice enough to move out of the way so we could take pictures.

Then he tolds us where the high cross and church were that we might very well have missed if we'd driven out. We did drive to a cattle gate and pulled to the side of the road. This was a real farm road so in some ways it was much bigger.

Ireland 2007--Dysert O'Dea

The castle was newer than the church which was newer than St. Tola's high cross and the ruins of the tower, which were from the 12th century. The cross holds an carving of Christ and of a bishop (St. Tola) who founded the monastery centuries before, I believe.The doorway was in good shape and very cool with all the faces. Each one was different and some human, others animals.

I'm not sure if we were in the Burren anymore or just out of it but there was such a distortion of time for us looking at the maps. A map of all of BC and a map of Ireland are the same size on paper. But a one-inch distance on a BC map could be 2 hours of driving, whereas on the Irish map it's probably 15 minutes.

Which means we managed to go from Carrowmore in the rainy morning, to Dunguaire, Kinvara, Ailwee Caves, Poulnabrone Burren, Carran Church, Dysert O'Dea castle and church all in one day. We were getting into the very tail of the day. We rarely stopped for lunch. After Dysert O'Dea we drove to the town of Ennis and found a place for the evening.

Burren, Poulnabrone Dolmen and Carran Church

After we left the caves we wended our way through the Burren. There are rock walls absolutely everywhere, and then the Burren stone with plants in each hardened rivulet. We actually passed a sign for an old stone ring fort but because there were so many walls we couldn't find it, as it was inseperable from the rest of the walls. We also went down a wrong road when we had to backtrack and only knew it when we came across some white bagged hay (or something) since the hills looked so much alike.

Ireland 2007--Burren, Poulnabrone Dolmen & Carran Church

We had to work around a few sheep. They proved why they have remained on the evolutionary ladder at a low rung. Some didn't bother to move. Others would run frantically along the road (all with their butts dabbed in green or red paint) and then stop and chew. It's like their wee brains went, Ack! A metal monster! Oooh look nice greens to chew. Two second memories, I tell you.

I've already gushed about the Burren but there is a sense of such age and endurance in this area, and beauty mixed with the severity of the landscape in spots that I can certainly see how tales of fairy folk would spring up. Poulnabrone was down one road and we almost missed it too, except it stood a little above the hill. This is called a portal tomb because it looks to be a doorway. It dates back 5000 years and has stood against humans and elements all that time. The ground around the dolmen was amazing and I would definitely see this again for its sheer alieness and stunning landscape.

The day was winding down but we still had an hour or two of sunlight. As we were driving out of the Burren we found Carran Church. I couldn't find much infomration on the church but I'm guessing it's at least 400 years old. One of the pictures shows the brown signs that marked scenic or historical sites. Not a big ruin, it was near someone's home so I pulled into the driveway (remember no shoulders on these roads) and took some pictures. The wall had the usual stone stile to climb over. I also met some stinging nettle (through my yoga pants) when I went around the outer wall. Ended up with a burning thigh for a few hours.

And onward we went. We were yet to do Dysert O'Dea before we called it a day.

Dunguaire & Ailwee Caves

Ireland 2007--Dunguaire & Ailwee Caves

After Carrowmore, on Wednesday Oct. 3, we headed toward the Burren. It was raining in Carrowmore but the weather was wonderfully clear and fairly warm once we hit the west coast. Here is where the maps screwed us up quite a bit. Dunguaire was shown as being on the other side of Kinvara, a small little fishing village. But instead it was right at the edge of the village. Nothing was really placed correctly so we had to ask as usual. Outside of Dunquaire castle was a cute little bird just singing his head off. It really set the joyful atmosphere of the place.

Dunguaire castle was closed, as of the day before, alas, but the water was beautiful, a deep azure and choppy. I would definitely go back to actually see Kinvara the next time around as we whizzed through it. It took meandering along very curvy roads and a few wrong turns to find the Ailwee Caves. These were carved by underground rivers millions of years ago. European brown bears were thought to be extinct in Ireland for the last 1200 years but they found bones in a hibernation spot that date back only 1000 years. Still it's sad to thing how many large species once populated Ireland and were wiped out in the past 5000 years.

The caves were quite large and there were deposits forming stalagmites and stalactites. White fossils graced the brown and black stone. But they really rushed you through straight out of and back into the gift store of course. There wasn't really time even to take a proper picture and for the price they charged (not an OPW site) they could have given a few more minutes.

We drove through the Burren (or Burren), which looks like a volcanoe blorped out mud millions of years ago and then it solidified. There's a pictuer in here of this and you can see the top of the hill is grey, just like the mud. Because of the stone the Burren was written about through the ages as being inhospitable with no land to grow on and yet people lived there. Rock and rock walls abounded.

Drving into this area reminded me a bit of the Okanagan. It had a certain craggy austerity in parts but I loved this area. Tomorrow, more of the Burren and surrounding area.

Slieve League and Carrowmore

On Tuesday Oct. 2 we bopped around Donegal for part of the day, using an internet cafe, seeing Donegal castle (which we drove around three times because we couldn't find it behind the trees and the wall, and then couldn't find the parking), and doing a wee bit of shopping.

I tried to call a woman near Carrick on Shannon. I'd been given her name by a friend but the one thing we never mastered were the phones. It was a phone booth on the street. I tried punching the number. I tried putting money in. I tried various buttons on the phone and only got the long distance operator who I couldn't hear anyways for all of the traffic.So we never did see Bee, but then we didn't pass through her area.

Slieve League was past Killybegs, west of Donegal. We drove out and it was a meandering drive along or near part of the coast. This was tweed country, lots of sheeps and a few tweed shops that we stopped in, partially for directions. So we drove and drove and weren't sure if we there so we asked a man, dressed in that classic old Irish attire of cap, tweed jacket, baggy pants and wellies. In Ireland the standard greetings is "How are you doing?" This man was walking along the small village road. I believe there might have been a total of 20 cottages at most and it was at the end of nowhere.

He said we were on the right road for Slieve League and as it turned out it was only about five minutes past that village, and dead ended there. We were high on cliffs and below was a long reddish sand beach. It was a long hike down the stairs and would have been a long sweat up. We didn't go down as it was getting late in the day.

As we drove back we found the sign to the Bunglass cliffs (which I think really were higher than the others). Since the guy at the tweed shop had mentioned them we decided to go check them out. I'm sure if my sister realized what we were getting into she would have said, skip it.

We drove through a village as tiny as the one at Slieve League, passing dogs, goats and chickens all running about the road. We rounded a corner where the family working in their yard kind of stared at us like we were mad. Then began the ascent.

At first it wasn't too bad but then it wound higher and higher. And then we were on a hairpin where you looked across to the other side of the hairpin with nothing but cliffs done the curve. My sister, who is terrifed of heights, said not a word, breathing heavily and grasp the car door handle so tight I thought she'd take it off.

It was in fact fairly treacherous. I was only going about 5km and if we'd met someone coming the other direction, I'm not sure what we would have done as it wasn't big enough for two. Plus there were the two spots where the car pointed straight at the sky and I had to take it on faith that there was road on the other side. It was easier going down and a pretty good view.

Ireland 2007--Slieve League & Carrowmore

We then started beetling south to outside of Sligo. We wanted to do the Carrowmore passage tombs and thought we go that far for the night and have a head start in the morning. Regrettfully I saw nothing of Galway. We made an error this night by being far too late in travelling. It was dark by the time we ended up in the vicinity and I think we were near Lough Arrow because there was coast on one side. But it was so dark we couldn't see a B&B anywhere and finally found a small pub/tavern with rooms upstairs. It was dirty but it was cold (no heat), the shower didn't work in my sister's room and the rooms were so small we had to lift our suitcases over the bed. We did find a little restaurant farther in (if we'd known we could have checked that area for rooms) that had fairly good food. Many places did a combo course of appetizer and/or dessert plus a main course, so for 25 euros it was okay.

In the morning, Wednesday, we trotted off to Carrowmore and with the customary few wrong turns (though not many) found Carrowmore just as it was opening. And it rained quite heavily while we were walking through the fields. Not as impressive of Newgrange, still I found it interesting and the number of graves brought such a sense of time and history. We finished in under two hours, soaked to our knees, so we changed in the bathroom and then drove on. (I forgot to remove my duplicats so a few pictures will look the same.)

Bushmills, Dunluce and Donegal, Ireland

Our day started with Kinbane, then Carrick-a-Rede, Giants Causeway and somehow we went on to Bushmills (the town & factory) for a tour. Why? I don't care for whiskey (Scotch is different), my sister's a celiac and can't touch any wheat product.

Although they've been making whiskey since 1675 and it was interesting on how they use bourbon, port and errr, one other type of barrel to age the stuff, and although we got a shot at the end of the tour (I also got my sister's)it was still kind of a waste of time. There really was nothing to take a picture of unless I wanted to do an article on whiskey making (and maybe I should have taken more). But I took no pictures and had my sister shoot this only picture of me in Ireland with the mega bottle of booze.

Ireland 2007--Bushmills, Dunluce Castle and Donegal

So we did the tour, and now it's getting late in the day, about 4:00 and we find our way to Dunluce Castle... to see them locking it up. It was perhaps our biggest regret. If we'd missed the Bushmills tour that we weren't that enthused about we would have had time to explore the castle. And this castle had a cave. How cool is that? Alas we could only peer from the locked gates.

Our last stop was driving on to Donegal town. The pictures of Donegal and the castle are actually from the next day as we arrived with enough time to do our usual. We popped into the Reel Inn, had a drink and asked the bartender to suggest some B&Bs. It also turned out they had live music that night. So we crossed the bridge right outside the door and not believing everything was so close, continued driving up the road, to realize we'd gone too far. We turned around and then found several B&Bs just down the road. We stayed at the Bridges.

These B&Bs are nothing fancy on the outside but quite large houses inside with usually 3-5 bedrooms and a large dining room. Bernie, our host, had two cute little kids (never met the husband) and there was only a common bathroom though many B&Bs have ensuites. My sister and I each had our own room which gave me a reprieve from her snoring. (It's funny that whenever I had to wake her in the middle of the night to try and get her to stop snoring, the first thing out of her mouth, even half asleep, was "I am not." Like I had nothing better to do in the dark of night.)Bernie also washed our clothes for a few Euros each. A very nice place to stay.

So that night we went off to find dinner (quiet on a Monday). Many pubs have dining rooms upstairs. We began to notice that service in Ireland is different than here. They'll serve you but never come back and you have to hunt down the waiter to get your bill or they'll literally let you sit forever. I don't remember the name of the place but I had a mediocre chicken curry with not a speck of vegetables. but true to form it was a huge portion on rice. I ate it all and then they brought me a megasize bowl of French fries! I didn't eat any, being quite full. But there was that Irish thing of potatoes.

We then wandered back to the Reel Inn for the music though we never got farther than a few feet inside the door. I won't relate the tale here again as you'll find it if you go back to the Oct. 2 entry. We staggered into bed, a short walk of a couple minutes from pub to B&B, at 3 am.

Giants Causeway, Northern Island

Giants Causeway was just west of Carrick-a-Rede. This is all in the county of Antrim, in Northern Ireland. There were tons of people here. That I even managed pictures without anyone in them is something. They have buses that are loaded up and they drive people down the hill for those who don't want the walk down or the hike up. But it's less than 30 minutes to walk one way.

The Causeway stones are basalt and due to an ancient (65 million years) lava flow as well as hot and humid conditions interspersed with colder air, caused the geometric fracturing of the stones. I believe there is in one area like this in Scottland too.

Ireland 2007--Giants Causeway

The pictures are pretty much self-explanatory. Amazing to look out but we didn't do the long hike around to the Chimney and the Organ. Maybe next time. The parts of the Causeway where the stones are pitted reminded me of ancient vertebrae. Definitely worth seeing.

Carrick-a-Rede, Ireland

Still on Oct. 1, travelling west along the north coast of Ireland, we went next to Carrick-a-Rede, which means something like big rock. Carrich is the name of the island and it's tiny. It has a rope bridge suspended over a churning passage. Really, the bridge is twisted tensile metal strands and very sturdy. I think it was updated in 2000.

Ireland 2007--Carrick a Rede

Used by fisherman since the 16th century, it was once just a rope with some wood slats. Down one side, just before the rope bridge is the husk of a building used for the salmon fishery. I believe this closed down in the 80s or 90s as fisheries all over the world have met similar demises. Fishing by boat was somewhat treacherous so the fishermen used Carrick island to fish from. I'm not sure if they trawled as there does seem to be some evidence of pulleys and such but in any case, Carrick like Kinbane, no longer has a fishing industry.

The walk to Carrick was beautiful. We had great weather and although there in the morning it warmed up quite a bit, especially with the stairs on the return visit. The ocean here was absolutely amazing. The colours in the pictures are quite accurate and it reminded of the water around the Bahamas, but wilder and colder. The white cliffs are limestone and the rest is basalt I believe. On Carrick island the beginnings of the fractured basalt that makes up Giants Causeway could be seen.

This was hike two, after Kinbane but really took only about 45 minutes in all to get to the island and back. The island itself was very hummocky and spongy. They have signs requesting that you protect the environment, which I presumed met walk lightly (as there were many people and would be more in the afternoon) and don't pick anything.

It's a rugged coast and I can see any landing, or a storm tossed night probably claimed its share of ships.

Kinbane Castle

Ireland 2007--Kinbane Castle

On Monday October 1, we left Ballycastle. At our B&B were a family from Seattle. They'd been driving about for two weeks and were on their third week. They said, stop at Kinbane on the way. It's not very far. And it wasn't.

It was down a long hill. They really didn't want people to go to the castle anymore. There were bars across the path but easy to straddle. As I moved around the hill, there was a second barricade just before the beach. I squeezed past that one, and it was obvious many had.

I loved the look of this castle, built in 1544 by Colla MacDonnell (of Balymargy Friary fame). It was shot at and partially destroyed at one point, but one of the MacDonnells lived there till the end of his days. Mostly what is left is one of the towers. It couldn't have been a very big castle but I can see how this would have been a great fortification. Rugged stony cliffs to the sea and steep steps up to the castle by land.

This castle gave me a great appreciation for the hardiness of those people of centuries past. To hike up and down that hill would definitely make one fit. Even though it was a bit breezy, I was quite warm by the time I pantingly reached the top.

The castle and rock itself are now made unapproachable, the way securely barricaded. The structure was originally besieged and with time it has become highly unstable. I loved many of the castles for different reasons but Kinbane had the true sense of a fortification of the most austere type. This was only the first of our stops on Monday, and the first of a few hikes.

Published work for November

Besides winning the Jerry Jazz Musician contest, my poem "Graven Image" has come out in the Albertan magazine, The Prairie Journal. And I have just received word that the antholgy Naughty or Nice is out through Cleis Press, with another one of my stories.

More Irish pictures tomorrow--Carrick a Rede and Kinbane Castle.

Short Fiction Contest Winner

My piece "Cipher" which won the November short fiction contest at Jerry Jazz Musician (a site for all things jazz though the stories are not necessarily so) is now up to view. Just click on the following site and then used the left hand box. Search for short fiction and my story will come up. You scroll past the bio to get to the story.


http://jerryjazzmusician.com

Belfast to Ballycastle

Ireland 2007--Belfast to Ballycastle

Here we are still on Sunday Sept. 30, going from the Newgrange area to Belfast. We gassed up before Northern Ireland (as opposed to the republic) as they use pounds and that's even more expensive (at least $2 CDN to the pound). It was the first time gassing up and we couldn't get the gas flap open on the VW Polo or whatever that piece of crap was. No levers, no buttons and the gas jockey was stymied too. Finally he asked one of the other guys and it turns out you just give it a good push and it pops open. Duh.

The only difference crossing the border, which was indiscernible was that the speed limits changed from kilometers to miles, much like driving from Canada to the US. However, the speedometer did not show miles, not that it mattered. If it said 60 people went 120, no matter whether km/h. I just flowed with the flow.

There are fairly major highways between Dublin and Belfast so it was smooth sailing and little getting lost though my sister would laugh her head off every time we saw a sign that said Heavy Plant Crossing. This usuallly wasn't on the main highways but we later found out it meant lumber trucks crossing, so in a sense, heavy plants. Our three maps of Ireland were deficient in different ways. The one from CAA only showed major routes and everything is a minor route in Ireland. The best map had roads going where they didn't, roads missing, and sites not exactly where they really were. You cannot have too detailed of a map for Ireland.

So, we drove into Belfast with no city map, a scary prospect after the maze of Dublin. But we found downtown (reminded me of Edmonton with the type of streets and construction going on), drove in circles for a bit and then parked, by sheer luck, across from the tourist information center (a large "i") so we did some internet posting, then got a map and yes, you guessed it, it was not accurate for Belfast. The woman drew lines to the Crown Liquor Saloon, the only place we were going to see as we were now shying of hanging around in the big cities. But of course she said go this way on a street that turned out to be a one way the other way. And you know what one ways are like when you're lost. You're always going the wrong direction. And we drove around and around and around and couldn't find this world famous Victorian saloon.

Finally I stopped by a taxi and told my sister to ask him. He was so nice that he actually just led us there and then pointed. And still we drove back and forth, because the saloon was under renovations and we couldn't see it for the scaffolding. Arrrghh! But we found it and it was truly beautiful, with warm wood booths and pillars. The pillars had little carved lions and griffins holding shields and in all there were only about six booths with lovely wooden doors and stained glass. Each booth had a metal plate that said Matches. We were talking to this man and woman and he said that at the turn of the century that was where people struck their matches when smoking. Ireland (both republic and north) are smoke free environments inside.

He also regaled us with politics and told us the only reason Dublin was considered dirty was because the tourists litter, not the locals. I kept my mouth shut but later saw what the Irish college crowd is like in Kilkenny. Belfast itself was very modern in the downtown core. We got lost (of course) getting out and the area we were in was a little rougher, but no sign at all of all the chaos of recent years gone by.

We then drove through to Ballycastle. Bally means "bay," so we passed many a place name Bally this and Bally that. It is a resort town and we did the usual, park and go into a pub for a drink. This was very much a sports bar and rugby is on every screen (or is it soccer--I mix them up. There a man at the bar could have been my friend Terri Fleming's brother; similar hair & skin colour, and looks. The Flemings (once Flemish of course) ended up in Ireland by way of many routes and the Scots.

On the outskirts of the town, right beside a golf course are the ruins of Bonamargy Friary. Built around the early 1500s it houses many graves of the MacDonnells, the past cheiftains of Ulster and Antrim and is still in the same family to this day. The most famous was Sorley Boy (an anglicization) and his brothers who ruled and repelled the English. The MacDonnells married the MacQuillans to quell the past Lords of the Route. Turns out the one headstone I took a picture of is rumoured to be the Black Nun of Bonamargy's resting place, Julie MacQuillan who was said to make 7 prophesies.

From the pictures you can tell it was dusk and we weren't having any luck with finding the B&B the pub recommended. We went back and tried to call three places but duh, you dial first, then stick the money in and if you're not fast enough, it cuts you off. And then you have to keep adding coins to keep talking. We goofed so bad the pub owner helped us, and one B&B just called back because we got cut off. Eventually in full darkness we found Clare house, after having to knock on someone's door and scare them in the dark. We unpacked and went back to town for dinner. Some pubs have restaurants upstairs and I don't know the name of the place we ate at but it was very modern in design and high end. It was a Sunday so there weren't a lot of places open. A bit pricey but very good.

Monasterboice, Ireland

Ireland 2007--Monasterboice

Just click on the pictures to go to the album and each picture has more information in the caption.

Monasterboice is now just a cemetery but it has a long history. Founded first in the 4th century by St Buite who died in 521, it has seen many incarnations. It laso had significance to Mellifont Abbey. The tower and the High Crosses date from the tenth century though the tower might be even older. The original abbey is long gone but there are remains of two 14th century abbeys. Over a thousand years of use here and there is still significant detail left. I can only imagine how majestic these crosses were in their virgin state. I did not know before that the reason there is the round circle on the crosses is that the versions made of gold and jewels would start to bend under the weight of the design and the circle was a support structure to hold up the arms of the cross.

The tower, it is believed, was used for protection when the Vikings came by. It is still over 100 feet high and no longer complete. As well, over time, dirt has built up around the base and the once elevated doorway is now about 6-8 feet above ground. Of course this would have been used for storage and for a lookout as well.

Monasterboice was our last stop around the Newgrange area. It wasn't far from the towns of Drogheda, Tara or Slaine.(Pronounced Droda but you'd hear different pronunciations depending on whether the person was saying the Gaelic or the English version.)

We never did get any pictures of Slaine (two weddings booked in the castle and there after dark for dinner the second night), and though we drove through Kells the night before it was too late for the tourist center. As it was now Sunday we would have had to hang around till 2 pm to get in and as it turns out, there are two Kells in Ireland. The other is in the southwest and neither house the Book of Kells, which I regret not seeing.

By this time we were getting a better sense of driving about and learning to just stop and ask directions, especially when we'd be at a corner that had signs pointing east and south at the same time. Signs for touristy things (landmarks, historic sites, beaches) were in brown and helped a lot in finding places. Towns were in white (w/black lettering) or green (w/white lettering). It seems the secondary routes were the white signs. The roundabouts, on the other hand, never really did get easy.

Next, Belfast to Ballycastle.

St Peter & Paul's Cathedral, and Old Mellifont Abbey

Ireland 2007--St. Peter & Paul's Cathedral, Trim and Mellifont Abbey

(click on the pictures for the albums)
I find beauty in stone and architecture, in details and the juxtaposition against sky and flora. St Peter and Paul's Cathedral was in the town of Trim and not far from the castle. Trim was a very important center at one time. We happened upon the cathedral and just stopped. I loved the sense of age, the details still visible, and that the cemetery was still in use.

The days are blurring together but we arrived in the Newgrange/County Meath area on the Friday evening, then spent Saturday and part of Sunday boppign about before we went north. I can't remember if we did Trim on Sunday or if it was one of the last things on Saturday. The time of day and that the castle was nearly closed when we hit it makes me think that the cathedral was the last place on Saturday.

We then wandered back to Slaine (that we never did get pictures of nor see the castle because it was booked for weddings). We ate at "the Old Post Office" but had drinks at the pub across the street first until they had space for us. There was a guy playing music but it was 80s tunes. Alas, N.A. rock made its mark everywhere, when we wanted Irish traditional.

So on Sunday, after saying so long to Irene of the Roughgrange B&B right near Newgrange (she was lovely and very friendly) we moved on to Old Mellifont Abbey, a cistercian monastery first founded in 1142b by ST. Malachy. Of course, it was constructed and expanded over centuries and there were even ruins of one of the old houses on the hill. The rain spittered and spattered but never did more than that.

The detail in the columns were amazing and the sense of age was powerful. I got in trouble at the visitor center for saying we have such little history in Canada. I ameneded it to say architectural and civic history, because we do have history. But the artifacts of the first Nations were mostly of wood and leather and just as all the places no longer have their rooves in Ireland, we have very little (especially in western Canada) that goes back more than two centuries at most.

The sense of people living, adapting, changing through all those years is stunning. Nature is amazing and what humans have done, both good and bad, awe inspiring too.

Winning a Contest

Today I received two emails to do with stories I'd sent out. One was from Virginia Quarterly Review saying that although my story had obvious merit it didn't suit their needs. The other was from editor Joe Maita of Jerry Jazz Musician, a funky site of all things jazz and some things not.

“I am writing to let you know that ‘Cipher’ has been chosen to be the winner of the Jerry Jazz Musician Short Fiction Contest. Congratulations! With this award comes a prize of $100.”

http://www.jerryjazzmusician.com/mainHTML.cfm?page=fiction.html

It will be published on the site on Nov. 5th and beat out over 100 entrants. Wins and even nominations have been far and few between so it's very nice to feel like your top a heap, no matter how small. I've been selling erotica and poems this year, and this story is literary. So even though I'm not selling the speculative works, I'm still having my best year. It's a small bubble but I'm riding it for all it's worth.

Hill of Tara and Trim Castle

This is all still part of our very busy Saturday. After we left Newgrange we trotted up to the Hill of Tara. At one point, at a four-way intersection there were two signs at right angles, both saying Tara. Ah those funny Irish. Turns out one was for the town and one for the Hill. Hard to tell though I think we found the "brown" heritage/tourist sign at one point. Not that it point the right way either.

After stopping at a gas station (let me guess, you're lost and looking for the Hill of Tara--only about 100 people have come by) we found our way. The Hill of Tara is...well, a hill, a great big, luscious green hill, with a mound or two, with runnels around it. It's a hill (Cormac's House), a hill fort, a passage tomb (mound of the hostages) and numerous other things. I don't think we saw all of it as it was a murky wet day and wet grass makes things soggy. The Stone of Destiny shown in some of the pictures was supposedly moved in 1798 to commemorate the death of 400 Irishmen who fought the British. It's been the seat of the High Kings of Ireland from the 6-12th centuries and the stone was said to cry out when the true king touched it. (I wonder how they worked that miracle).

There is a little cemetery and church dating back only a couple of hundred years I believe. Or at least the stones we could see. But the age of the Hill of Tara goes back to neolithic times with other parts being of Roman and medieval times. Its significance is still great in Ireland.

We went on to Trim castle which was founded by Hugh de Lacy in the 12th century.Its more recent claim to fame is that it was used in filming Braveheart. But the ruins are quite fabulous. We hit it at the end of the day and didn't get the tour of the inside of the castle. I believe it's only a ruin though, no furniture. The tour would have consisted of talking about its different defenses and construction techniques as the tower has twenty sides.

There was a lovely little wedding going one with the men in coats and tails. Yeah, if I ever got married a castle would definitely be a great setting. We didn't really stick around in Trim, the town, but drove through to an abbey, shown in the next set.

Ireland 2007--Hill of Tara & Trim Castle

Newgrange and Knowth

Ireland 2007--Newgrange & Knowth

We left Dublin on the 28th of Sept. However, trying to navigate out of a city that's centuries old with winding streets and missing signs was quite a challenge. The 15-minute drive from the car rental place to our guesthouse took an hour and a half.

The guesthouse gave us directions north on the N1 when in fact the map showed that we really wanted N2 to get to Newgrange. Part of the problem is that here you have a map that fills your lap. It's of all of Ireland. A map even of BC would mean hours of driving so our sense of size and distance were skewed.

On top of that, let's say that Dublin tourish has good maps. They list some of the more known sites. They list major roads and smaller subroutes or connector roads. However, the sites are sometimes before a town when they're shown as being in the town, or north of a place when shown to be west of a place. Some of those connector roads don't connect to anything but a playground while there are new routes not listed anywhere on the map. We had three maps and none were accurate or super helpful.

We took N1 with my sister driving and I kept trying to navigate us back to N2. What a mistake. We did end up in a subdevelopment, a schoolyard, on the M1 and back to still being on the N1 (which can disappear become the M1 and then R125 or something and then back to being the N1. All this plus navigating the many roundabouts any time there is a road leading in a different direction. We were told to turn at a cemetery by a local at one point and either she'd never been up that road in years or they moved the cemetery, bodies and all.

So, eventually with half the day gone after starting at 11 am to get the car, we made it to the Huntsman Inn somewhere around four. We stopped in because it looked cute except for the scary horse thing outside. Thatched roof and a few hundred years old, it seems it was competing as the oldest pub/tavern/restaurant. We saw several of these signs and had while in Dublin had a drink at the Stags Head and the Braven Head pubs, both the oldest for something. Though nice staff I had truly awful onion rings with soft doughy outer layer and soft, too fleshy wings. Blech.

Revitalized and coming to realize that though it's a short distance through Ireland, it's not a fast ride, we continued on. We even found Newgrange all by ourselves...but about a half hour too late to get into that day. So we drove along the road to Slain (Slane) and asked there about B&Bs. We stayed at the lovely little Roughgrange home of Irene and her husband, mere minutes from Newgrange, itself a 17th century grange (form of ranch house). We trotted off to Donore for dinner in a pub and had fairly acceptable food with a few massive potatoes.

The next morning we decided to stay a second night as we had plenty in that area to see and drove off to Newgrange. Only done by tour (not enough time as far as I was concerned) we went first to Knowth (nowth for pronunciation). This was the first of many experiences with the stones of Ireland. Knowth and Newgrange are megalithic (or neolithic depending on the info) passage tombs that date back 5-6000 years. These were Stone to Bronze age cultures. Knowth's chamber was bigger and there were several mounds of varying sizes.

There have been upgrades to the mounds as over the centuries they were farmed or even had small villages starting up on the top of the mounds. Excavation was needed to bring back the kerbstones which are made of a stone called greywacke (greywacky). I believe only one was missing. In most of the passage tombs there is an alignment to one of the solstices or an equinox. As well cremated human remains were found and in some the bodies of several people. Archaeologists know these were used for ceremonial or ritual purposes in the earliest days. Knowth and Newgrange are the oldest manmade structures in the world.

The sense of age and history is immense. I could almost see the people moving amongst these revered mounds of long ago, imagine the importance of sun and rain and the turning wheel of the seasons. This was the beginning of a growing sense of stone in Ireland, as if I was being etched, like the whorls and swirls that were set in these kerbstones of long ago to endure weather and touch, and the changing of culture and times.

Dublin and Ireland

Now that I've been back for a few days, I'm starting to sort through my pictures. Dublin was the first real landing spot in Ireland. So of course there are many shots of the streets and the housing, which differs from Vancouver. Architectural history, barring the earlier dwelling of the coastal peoples and not many of those remain due to the deterioration of wood and leather, in most of Canada goes back about three hundred years. Yes, there are a few exceptions like bits of a Viking settlement in Newfoundland or the 16th century Basque whaling village, but all in all, our civic history is relatively young. So Dublin like many European cities has history steeped in history that can be seen in the shape of the streets and the buildings.

The link listed here connects to my photos of Dublin, with the exception of the two fox pictures from my friends' back yard in Glasgow (where we first landed). Foxes are the local vermin in Glasgow but protected there now. Some of the pictures I've included are fuzzy. I was still learning the digital camera and in some cases the lighting was very low but have them here out of interest.

Dublin's one day included a trip to Christchurch Cathedral. Parts of it date back a thousand years. Some of the tile work is still beautiful and holds up well after thousands of feet and hundreds of years. Interestingly there was a glass encased, mummified rat and cat, found in an organ that was restored. Who was chasing whom, we may never know. We also went to the famous Temple Bar area, which is trendy but has some interesting pubs and restaurants. We ate at Fitzers which was very good and not that cheap. A drink of rum and coke and a cider cost about 15 Euros in Dublin. It's 1.5 dollars CDN to the Euro. Dublin is suppsed to be the most expensive city in Europe right now.

We also went to Dublin Castle, which like many structures has many centuries of history and more modern parts built on the remains of the older places. Still used today by Ireland's president (who serves a seven-year term) the rooms are of 17th-18th century designs. Under the buildings are excavated ruins of the original walls and towers. We were told that they used to take the heads of the executed and stick them on pikes about the castle. Eventually the heads would rot and plop into the moat. How do they know this? Well, they found four hundred severed heads in the moat. Which spawned this drinking song that you can sing to "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall."

Ninety-nine severed heads in the moat, ninety-nine severed heads.
You take one out, you toss it about, ninety-eight severed heads in the moat. At which point, you could take a sip of said beverage and pass it down the line. More than ninety-nine heads though and it gets quite ungainly to sing. My sister and I had the opportunity to sing through all the heads to zero while stuck in rush-hour traffic in Cork. It kept us amused and even if our windows were open a bit, the people stuck beside us studiously ignored us.

Last was wandering around the River Liffey. This bisects south and north of the city. There are various car and foot bridges over the river and the areas between are called quays, such as Merchants quay, which gives you an idea of what it must once have been like before the advent of cars.

Ireland2007-Dublin

Things Irish

Blarney--we heard many a tall tale in Ireland and the gift of the gab runs through many it seems. Now that we're nearly on the homefront we've checked the internet and if Liam's fish whacking is a record it's only in Killybegs or Donegal as there is no listing. But somehow we're not surprised by this in the least.

Almost all the toilet bowls in Ireland are quite roundish, kinda cute...as toilet bowls go. The handles are on the right instead of the left in Canadian/US toilets. Why one side or the other, who knows?

Latches on almost every bathroom door are slide latches. It seems to be the latch style of choice.

You'll be hard pressed to find a face cloth at any B&B or guesthouse. I hate water in my face so I always use one. Luckily I brought my own.

About 80% of the places we stayed didn't have hairdryers.

Everything from toothbrushes (equiv. of $8-13) or hair mousse (equiv. of $10) is really expensive.

I've been called love or lass but no other form, besides "girls". So my friends who think chicken (never heard this one even the first time around Eng. and Scotland many years ago) must be remembering a local idiom from somewhere.

I was told that no matter where you are pretty much there would be the friendly Irish and you wouldn't be sitting alone for long or they would start buying you drinks. This friendliness was apparent in the towns but by no means universal. The resort areas and modern cities were as friendly...or as unfriendly as every big, trendy place. Kilkenny would have been the same except for the lads from the North.

Food was generally of high quality.

Every town or village goes back centuries so the streets are narrow and winding, the buildings tall and joined together as row houses. As you get farther out from the town center you encounter newer row houses, or individual dwellings. These seem to be quite large and have at least four bedrooms. That's why there are so many B&B's in Ireland.

Traffic circles and few lights. They're insane and you'll get honked at for doing it wrong but then find in the next town that it's different. Speed limits are for decoration. If you see a sign for 60 km, people will easily be going 120. The small roads are usually 60-80 km and the highways 100-120 km.

We only saw one farmer with a horse and buggy but saw some country fellows in the typical cap, jacket, baggy pants with shiny bottom, and wellies.

Ireland is green and after a few millennia of deforestation, there are border trees and groves, a few protected forests. It was the stunning thing to see flying over. However, we did see areas of reforestation. When flying over I couldn't figure out why the trees looked as if they were combed. It was because they had been planted at some point.

Ireland roads are almost all bordered by hedgerows or stone fences. There may also be trees that have been growing there for a long while that form tunnels as the branches reach above and leave space enough for car and lorries to go through. It definitely gave a different feel to the countryside.

Irish Food

We're in Glasgow but haven't really done anything but fly here today. We were wiped so napped on the couch, which means we'll have tomorrow to explore a little bit.

In Ireland, the Irish really do love their potatoes. It will be on the menu for everything; either fries or potatoes. I watched people in a pretty fancy Italian restaurant eat past and fries. Fork a fry and then scoop your pasta and sauce together. Or the ladies that ordered pasta and pizza and a bowl of potatoes on the side.

One night I ordered chicken curry with rice. It came with a large (about two full serving's worth in Vancouver) serving of fries that I was too full to touch. And the portions are more than substantial. Last night I think we ended up in the equivalent of a diner and I had smoked cod and cabbage (with potatoes of course). I ate the cod but couldn't finish the rest.

So even though the prices are high, there is a lot of food and I doubt anyone would be hungry at the end. There's never been room for desert, except one night when I did an early bird menu, which seems to be quite popular in restaurants. You can get two or three courses for prices ranging from 20 to 30 Euros.

So food left an impression on me. We're nearly done. It will be good to get back but sad to leave. I'm sure I'll write a bit more about the Emerald Isle once I'm home.

Dublin or Bust!

We're in Kilkenny, which turns out to be a hopping college town, or at least where all the young people gather to party. Yeegods, we almost didn't get a B&B but lucked out on try 3 with a very nice place and very nice people.

There's been so much and not enough time to even find internet cafes which some of the small towns don't have. We got into the habit of sometimes eating the breakfast--a full breakfast will come with two cooked tomatoes, sausages, ham (bacon but it's like back bacon), toast, eggs, cereal and fruit, maybe potatoes and black and white pudding. Who could eat all that. We were down to ham and toast and tomatoe and skipping it some days as it's too much and eggs over more than 2 days don't sit well with me.

We would skip lunch as we were always running about trying to fit in the most by the end of the day. Some castles and sites close at the beginning of Oct. Boo! Most disappointing site--Ormonde Castle, a mostly Victorian manor house, closed off completely. Not exciting by architectural standards and why it was in the guide book, I don't know. Nicest castles--Bunratty, and errr...another I can't remember right now.

We've been eating dinners that are around 15-20€ and a pint of cider and a rum and coke have cost lowest at 7€ for both in Dungarvan, to 15€ in Dublin. Not cheap but the food portions have been substantial and quality mostly very good. My celiac sister hasn't had any problem getting food adapted and it turns out Ireland is only second to Italy in number of celiacs.

We stopped at Blarney castle, which is mostly a shell but I didn't kiss the stone. Rather, while snooping down some dark, tunnelly passage, I saw light and stairs to my left, and went to cautiously look down. I ran my nose right into a ridge of stone and nearly broke it. It's still bruised but feels okay. Reminds me of Lorna's year of the broken nose.

I have many many photos and I'm always into architectural details and the small stuff. I've taken pictures of some very old tiles froms some cathedrals and castles as well as some gothic and earlier carvings. Much in stonework, not as much in wood, of course.

We've come to want to avoid the bigger cities like Limerick (though we went to the castle there) and Cork where we spent an hour going a few blocks. We've just done Kilkenny castle, restored by the Irish gov't and once owned by the very rich Butlers for over 500 years. No pictures inside were allowed and most of it is done now in 18th century style as it went through several changes over the centuries.

I also realize that I've been trying to live up to being Irish and I've drank cider every day since I've been here. This could be a personal record. Last night we met some gents from the North who had been down for the races. One was a Belfast cop and we ended up drinking more than we would have. Then got lost in the fog going back to our B&B.

We're about to head up to Dublin and flight out godawful early tomorrow to Glasgow. Then it's, sob** home on Wednesday. We've lucked into great weather except for one rainy day in Carrowmore and when driving out of Dublin. That's made it much nicer. Ireland is truly beautiful and kinda laid back about driving even if the speed limit is 100km on winding country roads built for carriages originaly. I've come to love the inherent use of and living with stone of the Irish. Stone plots in cemeteries, stone castles and homes, the wonderful stone walls everywhere and the megatlith tombs and dolmens. Oddly enough it's the stones I will miss most.

And now it's time to drive off to Dublin.

Donegal & Slieve League

Yesterday was big hike day. We went to Kinbane Castle, a ruin, down many steps to a crag and a rock in the ocean. It was fine gong down but definitely a sweaty hike up the steep steps. My sister couldn't make it.

Then we drove (driving is fine now...mostly, except those traffic circles, which are literally every five blocks when you drive through a city. Very confusing when there are five names on each sign and you're trying to find one.) to the Carrick a Rede rope bridge. Randi is afraid of heights so I went on and over the bridge (short) to the hummocky island. It's like it's covered with peat and then grasses and little field flowers here and there. A beautiful view of the North Sea in its blues and turquoises with the white cliffs, the black rocks and the little green sharp cliffed islands called Carric Island (where the rope bridge leads to) and Sheep Island. That was another easier hike but with some steep steps to climb back up.

We then went to the Giants Causeway where there were hundreds of people. This is where the land coughed up great sestagonal? (six sided) columns of stone everywhere to the water. These columns form natural seats and steps and are very cool. Managed to get some good pics but the haze stopped me from getting good ones of the chimneys farther out and I was a bit tired to walk that far.

We went on to Bushmills. Why we did this tour I'm not sure. It wasn't on our itinerary (made up daily) and it wasn't very exciting or interesting. No old architecture, a bit on the making of (which was kinda intersting). Bushmills is named for the old Bush river from which they pump the water and the milling of the barley. But because we did this we missed getting into Dunluce castle. October hours means many things close at 5 instead of 6. It would have been the most impressive castle with a bridge, large environs and a cave beneath the castle. All these castles today were coastal castles. All we could do was take pics from the gates.

We then drove and drove through many a roundabout, through Portrush and Portstewart, Strabane, various little towns to Donegal. We stopped in a pub, the Reel Inn, had a drink and got some idea for B&Bs. This was a nice change. A small town center and our B&B just over the bridge, less than five minutes from the town. The pub is just one side of the little bridge. We ate in some restaurant which was okay. I had chicken curry (13.50€)which was only chicken, no veggies. Lots of chicken and rice though and then I was given a huge bowl of fries, which I didn't even touch. The Irish do love their taters.

We went back to the Reel Inn which was supposed to have live music. We barely set foot in the door when we were mobbed by drunk Irish men. There was a very drunk, bleary eyed, mostly incoherent Liam and his friend who we called Harry Potter, of barely legal drinking age. Enda was a nice guy who looked like he used to play rugby (on the TVs everywhere here) who had his own pub but goes for drinks with the boys on Mondays because one of them is banned from his pub. The banned one, the older Liam (40-ish)with a front tooth missing, regaled us with many a story of his fishing forays, true or not. Liam McGurdy holds the world record for fish whacking and gutting. Supposedly this is true though some of the other tales were not. There was a equally drunk, red-haired Eric. They were all drunk when we arrived and just stayed the same.

Randi and I had been told that the men buy your drinks everywhere. We hadn't found this yet or even that people talked to you that much. But it was true here. They all wanted to shake or hold our hands but we never bought a drink all night.Each guy would try to up the other in blarney.

There was also a Pete or Finnbar but it was hard to tell as he was not always on the up and up either, who kept telling me I was a fine woman and if I was there alone would I fancy him. I didn't want to say outright no, but I did say no and he asked why. I said because I like to get to know people there. A younger Pete came in and all the guys in the bar started calling old Pete Daddy. Younger Pete, Pete Cannon was kind of like a leprechaun, not that tall, pretty eyes, lots of character in his face and brown hair with blond and light red streaks. Turns out he's a musician and he also contributed to the blarney in his way. But overall the lads were friendly and harmless, if half of them completely inebriated. I got to try Adam's cider which came in a larger 1.5 pint bottle.

Now we're off to Slieve League and the coast. More as the internet allows.

We're in Belfast

Well, we spent till Friday in Dublin and went to pick up the car on Friday morning. Then with at least six people asked for directions we seemed to cross the Liffey and cross back so we were on the south side when we should have been on the north side. We did Baggot St. and lots of Dublin that we never meant to do. Plus we went far east before ending up going south and north again. A 15 minute drive took about an hour and a half.

The Charleville was very good to us and didn't charge us for being late. We also had to get her to show us how the reverse worked in the car, which even she couldn't find so we had to call the rental company. Signs in Ireland and in Dublin can be nonexistent, or on buildings, and covered by trees. Not to mention no streets are parallel. This city wasn't planned, it grew. Many intersections have five or six streets off of them too.

Randi drove and I navigated and it was a big big mess. Finally we got directions out of Dublin to go north but they gave us the N1 when we needed the N2. We tried to get over but they have all of these semie routes (R123, R153, etc.) and somehow not on one of the three maps we had was there any R132. The ones that showed on the map petered out into townships and at one point we asked a woman at a petrol stn. where to go and she said turn left at the garda stn. (police) and right at the cemetery. Maybe they moved it because all we saw was a subdivision with children playing so maybe they were zombies. Eventually, four hours later we made it to Newgrange, 45 minutes too late.

We drove into Slane, a cute little town with a castle and asked if there were any B&Bs and it turns out there was a wedding in town so that there were no openings. But we got a place just 2 km from Newgrange and Roughgrange farm with a lovely woman, Irene, and her husband. Clean, cheapish, and friendly. We went into Donore that night for dinner at Daly's a pub and a restaurant.

Next day, Saturday, we went to Newgrange and Knowth (neolithich passage graves), then on to the Hill of Tara (soggy soggy weather), then on to Trim Castle and St. Peter and Paul's Cathedral in Trim. We drove into Kells but were too late and would have had to wait till 2 pm today. So we drove back to Slane and had a drink at the Village Inn Bar (disappointment is that there is only one type of cider so far in Ireland--Bulmers) then across to the Old Post Office Restaurant and B&B, one of only 2 places in Slane that serves food. It was pretty good but food is not cheap here. (Meals can be about 20€ average though you can get pub meals for cheaper.) We also had a good, not cheap meal in Dublin at Fitzers; very yummy and good for celiacs which my sister is.

I should say that I took over driving on Saturday and we're both much happier. My sister tended to scream and freeze if she saw a car coming at her. The Garda swerved into our lane to get around traffic and the streets are very narrow and windy and the speed limits relatively fast. Except for getting down that center line thing and not going too far left, I'm doing okay. The care we have is crap and very hard to shift into the correct 1st or 2nd gear. And we couldn't find a way to open the gas tank today, nor the gas jockey. Turns out you just push the lid.

This morning we did Monasterboice and Mellifont Abbey before heading north.

Time's nearly out but we're hoping to see the Crown saloon here and go off towards Giants Causeway tonight. Whoo and we made it into Belfast without a map of the city.

Things to Know About Travelling

Well we made it. Just slept like the dead in Dublin and we're off to a slow start.

Backing up, it was a bit of a whirlwind beginning. My friend Lorna picked me up around 7 and my flight was leaving at 10:10 pm. Plenty of time, right? Well originally this flight had been leaving at that time and going straight to Glasgow, but along the way Air Transat changed it to Vancouver, via Calgary onto Glasgow. I looked at all the changes when my sister first sent them and thought the only change was Calgary, after initialing thinking they had shortened our flight by a day.

So here we are at the airport and there is hardly anyone there. I naively said, geez they say get here three hours early and there's no lineup. We walk up to the counter and I tell them the flight. They say no it's gone already. But then these guys (more airport security than the ticket people) say they don't work that counter; go over to the Air Transat counter. We do and the woman says it's too late, it's gone, it leaves at 8:00!

At this point my stupidity is dawning on me. I misread numerous times 20:10 at 10:10. I know the 24 hour clock but my brain had been stuck on the previous time. This woman calls upstairs as I'm breaking into a sweat (literally) and finds that they can get me on the plane but not my suitcase because the plane is packed. I'm going, what can I do and she says nothing because it's a charter flight and only goes out once a week with not agreement with the other airlines.

But somehow, bless their hearts, a guy comes down, checks my baggage, almost forgetst to give me the boarding pass and then I have to take my luggage to the xray machine. The guy there jokes that I have to wait a half hour. Then I speed through security, luckily without any additional searches and jump on the golf cart they have waiting, lacing up my boots as we go, thanking them profusely. I got on the plane but if we had been 5 minutes later I would have been hooped and my sister would have thought I was dead when she got on in Calgary. I was lucky and the plane was not late in taking off.

So then my sister gets on in Calgary and she's put on 50 pounds in 6 months from thyroid issues. Let's just say the small Air Transat seats are more crowded now. We got into Glasgow and went through the cattle gates for the passports with the customs guy joking that he wasn't happy because we were going on to Dublin.

A note to people travelling to Ireland: you can't very easily get a direct flight from the West Coast so it's Gatwick or Glasgow for joining up a new flight. Glasgow really has two airports, which we didn't know at first. Glasgow International only has Aer Lingus that flies to Dublin (about $150 CDN) and Glasgow Prestwick (about an hour away by bus and train) has Ryanair (only) and is cheaper. But if people tell you (even those that supposedly live there or are Irish and go all the time) that you can just book when you arrive from all of these different airlines, they're mistaken. There are only those two and though we could have made it to Prestwick in time for the late night flight, there were no seats left.

So we had to take Aer Lingus, but first we met up my friend Erin who is doing her PhD in Viking archaeology in Glasgow. She fed us and let us freshen up (and we saw these lovely foxes, the local vermin, in their back yard). Then we caught a taxi back to the airport and caught our flight, an hour late because the plane malfunctioned and they had to get a different one. So we left at 11:20 pm instead of 10:15. We finally got to our lodge and into bed at 2 am.

Scary things: a phone call requires constant money put into the machine. A call of a few minutes cost about 2.5£. Yikes. About 5 bucks. Glasgow is pounds. Ireland is Euros until you get to the Northern parts. And now, it's off to see what we can of Dublin after our late start.

Not Seeing Clearly

One of the other things needed for Ireland was money, of course. Euros and Great British Pounds as Northern Ireland and Glasgow are on pounds and the rest of Ireland on Euros.I'd been reading and was told that it's getting very hard to cash traveller's cheques. I presumed because of the amount of forgeries and counterfeiting.

So, I called my bank's central phone number and told them which branch I'd be going to and about how many Euros I would need, as well as when I'd be coming in. They said no problem, there will be enough. I dropped in on Friday, though I had been thinking of doing it this Tuesday afternoon. I'm very glad I didn't wait.

I arrived to find they had nowhere near enough Euros. I had a wedding and work on the car on Saturday. They were closed Sunday, and other branches were closed Wednesay as well as me working. They called around but no branches had enough. Eventually, after 45 minutes the bank scraped up every Euro they had. I ended up with a rather large wad of 5s, 10s, 20s, 50s, and one 100. It's bulky and it's a lot of money. But kudos to Vancity for coming through.

So that night I'm telling my friend Lorna about the Euro crisis and she says: There are banking machines all over Europe. You could have just withdrawn the money there. Arrgghh!

The last major travelling I did outside of the US was to Cuba where there weren't many if any banking machines and I just brought cash, bringing most of it home again. Before that was India in 1989 and even today I'd be dubious about parts of the country being up to date with banking machines. Sigh, you learn a few lessons and at least this wasn't a bad one to learn.

Here is a sample of using my 50 mm manual lens with my digital SLR Nikon. The digital can't read the f-stops from the old lens but it doesn't matter as long as I fiddle. You can't meter the same and it takes some experimentation but I did get it to work, as well as getting my bigger flash to work with it.

I may not get the second lens in time for Ireland so using the manual will fill in what I need. I'm beginning to think it could be better. I'm happy that I'll have a range of sizes now.

Time Crunch

I'll be leaving for Ireland next week and hope to post some while on the trip but I have no idea how our time will be and how often I'll find an internet cafe. Ireland is not cheap by far, and Dublin is one of the most expensive cities in Europe. I'm going with my sister and we'll be spending a day or two at most in Dublin. Advice by Irish people I've met is that you don't need longer there.

So far, even before going, transportation has been a bit of a tangle. We booked through Air Transat because it was cheapest by far but having flown to Cuba before on that airline, they really like to cram you in. I think I'll be going for strolls while on the plane.

The flight goes to Glasgow and then you need to book one to Dublin. Well, no problem. Everyone says Ryanair is really cheap. There's Aer Lingus but it's a tad more expensive (like a lot!). We didn't rush in booking because we wanted to coordinate it with the car rentals and when our first flight would arrive. And before that we took two weeks to find suitable and cheapish accommodation in Dublin. Not that easy and you have to check various sites as the price can vary.

I have friends in Glasgow and Erin happened to ask if we were flying to Dublin from Glasgow International or Prestwick Glasgow airport. Errr? I'm so glad she asked as we fly into Glasgow (GLA) and Ryanair only flies out of Prestwick. Then we have to take a train and a bus or taxi from one to the other, and it takes about an hour. Our heads were starting to spin by this time.

We arrive into GLA at 2:30 pm but the only Aer Lingus flight leaves at 10:30 pm. But if we get to Prestwick, then there's a flight at 5 or at 10:30. Is it cheaper with all the hassle and train/bus fare, plus after customs would we make the 5 pm flight? Or should we bite the more expensive bullet? (Aer Lingus has a lower baggage weight so do we pack for that flight and extra pounds can become extra pounds British!) Erin suggests that we have dinner with them and then can catch our flight out.

Once we get through this nodule of confusion, I'm sure the rest of the trip will be fine. But what a logistics headache. I now wish that I'd gone with a travel agent but they can't book Aer Lingus or Ryanair flights. After this, we'll be more experienced on travel to Ireland.

The Coolest Thesaurus Ever

Ireland looms close with some snags in coordinating transportation. I'm working three jobs at the moment with little time to post. I do hope that I can post a bit when I'm in Ireland.

But in the meantime, this is the greatest thesaurus. I'm going to order it once I'm back. It's like a mind map but with the word you pub in at the center. Then adjectives, verbs, nouns, whatever are spaced off of it. It's best just to go look because everyone who's seen it has gone, wow.

Visual and intuitive and easy to follow. It's a great tool: http://www.visualthesaurus.com/trialover.jsp

September 11th and the Holy Crusade

It is now six years since the Western world was slam dunked and woke up to the reality of the horrors that other parts of the world have suffered for a long time. There have always been terrorist attacks and bombings but this was the first time North America truly faced it without the sugar coating.

I can say, to this day that I have never seen a picture or TV spots of the Twin Towers falling. I still don't need to. I don't need to satisfy any ghoulish craving and the horror of what happened is strong enough I don't need it welded in my mind more firmly than it is. I felt a terror that day that I had never felt before.

And what difference did it make? Yes, it woke me up some. But am I any more prepared than I was 6 years ago? Prepared to have my world changed, prepared for the worst, having contingency plans and supplies tucked away? No, I'm pretty much complacent like many of us have become. Except our governments.

And yes, it is a government's job to protect its people but when protection is masked under the removal of civil liberties and the mass paranoia, well what is the government's true agenda; keeping the rats distracted? And I talk more here of the US, but Canada, Britain, Australia all have their complicities. We now have strident and ridiculous measures at airports. First, we had to start taking our shoes off because someone tried a shoe bomb. Then we had to start getting rid of extra liquid, because someone tried a bomb made of various liquids. Someone will end up with a tooth bomb and we'll be dropping our fangs in trays at the airport security stations. And then someone could use a tampon, a button, an earring, a belt. Soon, we'll be going through naked and there will still be new attempts to make bombs.

Right now I could take a plastic knife, or a shoelace and make a weapon and I'm not trying to be an "evil terrorist". If someone truly wants to create carnage, there is always a way around the system. Methods of sensible security are one thing but ridiculous paranoia does not inspire me with confidence of my country's intelligence or protection.

And then of course, six years after the fact, we look at George Bush's holy crusade that he likes to title his war on terror. Perhaps it should be reworded to his "war to perpetuate terror "as it's a matter of who is terrorized now. That I heard Americans saying ole George was doing the right thing in attacking Iraq and saving them from terrorists makes me shake my head at the stupidity. How many of the 9/11 terrorists came from Iraq? How many Al Qaeda operatives are being trained in Pakistan today, not in Iraq? What nationality is Osama bin Laden?

Osama sits back and laughs his head off knowing that he was more effective than he could have dreamed in his attacks. Lets look at the numbers (still disputed). Those dead from the 9/11 attacks--approximately 3,000. US soldiers killed in Irag since the 2003 US-led invasion--27,000 plus. Iraqis killed since the 2003 US-led invasion--655,000. Good going, George. You're doing Osama's work for him. He's sitting around sipping his favourite terrorist drink while you're his lackey dog.

I'm not saying Iraq didn't have a despotic and cruel dictator in power but it would have been nice to see countries helping the Iraqi people for the right reason, not some idiotic holy crusade of right wing Christian fundamentalism against right wing Muslim agression. I'm not saying that Afghanistan didn't need help. It did for years as its people were subjugated, especially the women. But it was never important enough (can we say, no oil) until George's war on terror. (This phrase makes me gag these days.)

What have I learned since Sept. 11? That nothing has been done for the right reason, to save people from fear and subjugation. What has been done was to take the terror away from here and put it on others, to push an agenda for power and religious might, for popularity. And if anything George Bush, you are the antichrist and your own worst enemy.

It really makes me wonder if there is any honour or good in the world. And I still mourn all the lives lost in power mongering wars and religious crusades, the world over.

Submissions for August

A friend was aghast or at least surprised that I would post my submissions here. That I should only post the postive stuff, the sales I've made. But I think it serves a better purpose to post it all and I see no reason to hide how many submissions I make or are aceppted or rejected. Maybe it will give someone faith to keep going. Some of the most popular books were rejected 100 times before being accepted by a publisher. So... you never know. And I often try to rewrite a story if I get back good (if sometimes painful) feedback. So the same title does not always mean the same story.

SUBMITTED IN August: 15 Spec fiction: 8 submissions
"Visions in Red” Strange Horizons
”Visions in Red” Abyss & Apex
“Fathomless World” IGMS
“The Collector” Noctem Aeternus
“Simple Pleasures” Red by Dawn anthology
“Bite Me” Heliotrope
“Lady of the Bleeding Heart” Sniplits
“Misdemeanor” Scarlet
“Touch the Magic” Clarkesworld
“Gingerbread People” Weird Tales
“Skin Deep” Neo-Opsis
Poems: 4 submissions
“Garuda’s Gamble, Robotics, Drowning Ones” Aeon
“Charmed” GUD
“Tales Never Told” Sybil’s Garage
“Pilot Flight,” “Millennium’s Edge,” “Time,” “Remembrance” Mythic Delirium

ACCEPTED:
REJECTED: 7 submissions (& 2 poems)
“Ice Queen” Speculative Realm
“Timebubbles” Withersin
“Slow Burn” Cincinnati Review
“Changes” IGMS
”Visions in Red” Abyss & Apex
“Highest Price” Glimmertrain
“Safe Sex” New Genre

“Charmed” Poem GUD
”Talesen’s Traps:” poems 1-4 From the Asylum

STORIES STILL OUT from January on: 15 & poems
Spec Fiction: 9 sumbissions
“Werewolf,” “Pumpkin’s Watch” Lycanthrope anthology
“Serpent’s Mouth” Pagan Fiction Award
“Cold Bones” Story Station
“Amuse-Bouche” Deathlings
“Lady Lazarus” Interzone
“In the High Tower” On Spec
“An Ill Wind” Talebones (resubmitted-not found)
“The Brown Woman” All Possible Worlds
“Rites of Passage” Dark Discoveries
Erotic fiction: 2 submission
“Pearls and Swine” Fishnet
“Unpacking Boxes” Super-Sexy Short Story
Fiction: 4 submissions
“No Place to Go” American Short Fiction
“Bird in the Hand” Pulpnet
“Sackcloth and Ashes” Fog City Review
“Elastic” The Sun
Poems: 5 submissions
Ø “Secrets of Trees”, “Garuda’s Folly”, “Negotiating the Power that Drives Me Round,” “Dark Side,” “A Match for Nostradamus” Strong Verse
Ø “Courtship,” “Whole World,” “What Goldilocks Learned” Going Down Swinging
Ø “Persephone Dreams,” “Finding Dionysus,” “The Traveler,” “Geomystica,” “Of the Corn” Tin House
Ø “Sweat Lodge,” “Between the Lines,” “Dust,” “Evidence,” “In the Garden” Agni
Ø Rewrite asked for on “Mermaid” Abyss & Apex

Little Words & Zed

I've worked many years as a copy editor and have a fairly good memory for spelling. It's amazing really that we ever standardized the English language, if you take into account that there's British English, American English and the bastard child of both, Canadian English. AE and CE say "synchronize" instead of "synchronise", but BE and CE say "neighbour" instead of "neighbor" and "travelled" instead of "traveled." There are a few other odd words such as "jewellery" vs "jewelry." But mostly we can understand each other even if Canadians say "zed" and Americans, "zee." I'm an adamant proponent of continuing the "zed" pronunciation (being Canadian) and when some little tads corrected me with saying, "It's zee." I pretty much bit my lip and corrected them since they're Canadian. Alas the invasion continues.

So is it any wonder that there are so many misspelled words considering that Shakespear spelled his name so many different ways? Of course a lot of this had to to with relative illiteracy. If you didn't write regularly, even if you knew the rudiments, you weren't very likely to spell things correctly.

As an editor, sometimes words are so often misspelled the same way that I start to doubt my own senses and look up words that I know are spelled incorrectly. Here are a few words of the modern age that are mispelled frequently:

• burgundy (not burgandy for colour or wine)
• indefinitely (not indefinately, received three times last week) if it's not finite then it's indefinite like infinity .
• no one (not no-one nor noone)
• its (the most misused word ever: if it is blue then it's blue. If something belongs to it, then it is its.
• twenty, thirty-something (twenty-two not twenty two)

I find it particularly bad when I read books that have many misspellings but it all depends on how good the publishers are at maintaining quality and if they care. Many small publishing houses do not even have copy editors and depend on (demand) the authors to proofread their work. Of course everyone should always do that and hand in relatively clean copies. Still when you're looking at a story over and over again you are bound to miss some of your own typos. A second set of eyes is always best.

Musings From Tibet III

This is the last part of Angela's email on Tibet:

There are many arts that come out of Tibetan monasteries, some of which I have pictures of here. Some of my pictures are from Rekong which is actually thought of as the art capitol of Amdo (this upper region of Tibet), possibly even of all Tibet. Mostly they are famous for their thangka painting, which unfortunately I didn't get to photograph, I only have pictures of the buildings and stupas there, but they are pretty amazing, intricately painted and carved, etc. From Labrang monastery I again have many pictures of the buildings, but I also have some pictures of cham dancing, and the butter sculptures which are both really fascinating art forms. The cham dancing is done by the monks, and it portrays stories of great events in the history of Buddhism. Sometimes it's the lives of the great masters, or sometimes the bringing of scriptures from India, mythical tales, etc.

The butter sculptures are incredibly intricate and colorful, in this case mostly of great Buddhist masters such as Tsongkaba (founder of the Gelukpa sect), Shakyamuni Buddha, etc., also lots of flowers, and other ritual shapes. The amazing thing about these is that they really are constructed from butter (in case you couldn't guess that from the name). They make these once a year just before Losar, then keep them throughout the year.
Speaking of butter, food in general seems to be a central theme in Tibetan culture, more so than most other places I've seen. The second you enter a house you are offered (practically forced) tea, and bread or whatever other food is sitting around. To refuse is not rude, but it is not really accepted. No matter how full you are, it's near impossible to get by without at least drinking a cup of tea. This became an entire art form for me, and a very difficult one at that - the art of refusing food. But another thing that I noticed was the fact that whenever I was taking pictures, having food around was essential. If I took a picture of a single person, they usually needed to have a full cup of tea in their hand, and at least a bowl overflowing with bread in front. When I was taking pictures of Jinpa and Gonpu's (Shedhe's cousins) homes, they made sure that they moved the bowls of food around so that they were in the picture. After all, if I brought pictures of their homes back to India and there was no food around, they might get worried that their families didn't have enough to eat. Food heaping is an art for them as it isn't enough to just fill a bowl with fruit or bread, it has to be heaping so high that it looks ready to collapse if you so much as speak next to it. But alas, after years of practice, it is actually very stable.

You will notice that in the pictures, most of the women wear long strings of red beads around their necks. These are traditional for nomad women, especially in Amdo. They are made out of red coral which is becoming more and more rare in Tibet, and I was surprised to find out that each bead costs between 100-400 Chinese yuen (there are about 7.7 yuen to one US dollar right now). As there are often a hundred or two of these beads on a necklace, the price is oftens imilar to buying a house. This is the way that women literally wear their wealth around their necks as a status symbol. Gold is also very popular, though I recently found out from one of my friends here that gold is a new thing, probably brought in by the Chinese. Apparently at least in some places 10 years ago people only had silver but now gold has become the big thing. Obviously its much more expensive, so again a status symbol. I'm not sure when this came in, as Shedhe values gold much more than silver (we argue about that often as I don't particularly like gold, but he doesn't like silver, he thinks it looks cheap) and he's been here for around 7 years, but one of my friends here said that in her village (which is only a few hours from Labrang) she never even saw gold and she's been here for around 12 years. Fashion amongst the nomads is very important, and they use it as an opportunity to display their wealth. I was also intrigued to find out that each different village, even if they are only an hour apart from each other have their own distinct fashion. To my eyes it mostly looked the same, but everywhere I went people were telling me that I looked just like a Senko nomad (Senko being the place where Shedhe's family is from) even when they had no idea who I was staying with. Not only the style of sewing the clothes was different from village to village, but also the way that you tie the chupa/tsarer is different. I not only learned to tie mine from mother, but the ones that I wore were also hers, thus why people recognized the area I was living in. 4 hours away, in the town of Rekong the chupas looked very different, even to my untrained eyes.

I was amazed just how different Tibet was from Dharamshala. Being in India I thought that I was learning a lot about Tibet, and though I was, it was nothing compared to actually being there. I could go on for hours about Dharamshala and how/why the people there have changed, but that is an entirely different paper.

The thing that I noticed most about Tibet was just how Chinese it had become, and how much it will continue to do so. In Tibet, I had to be careful to even mention the Dalai Lama, and certainly did not dare to utter the words "Free Tibet." But while in Dharamshala, I went to many protests for Tibetan freedom, and lived in a city of people who every day fight for it with every fiber of their being and live every day of their lives for the news that they and their families are free at last. After so much of that, I started to believe that it was a possibility. How could it be possible that so many people around the world were fighting for something so noble, and have it not come to fruition? It just didn't seem possible.

I remember walking home from teaching one day in Tibet, seeing all the Chinese signs painted on walls, the kids in Chinese clothes, all the modern technology and the food wrappers strewn on the side of the street. I started thinking about it, and realized that no matter how much I did not want to admit it, I think Tibet will never really be free from its Chinese colonizer. Though Tibetans work hard to preserve their culture, it is dying out with every new generation, becoming more and more Chinese practically by the minute. China has invested a lot into making Tibet what it is; they just built a new railroad all the way to Lhasa, have set up a huge tourist industry, recently discovered some sort of large Ore or Iron deposit and have made a lot of money out of the natural resources there. China is an incredibly powerful country, so powerful that nobody in the world, including the US will stand up to them. To them, there is no reason to give up Tibet, but there is lots of reason to keep it. Upon this realization a very strong sense of grief flew through me, and as I walked into our home to see this old conservative nomad family that I loved so dearly, I nearly wept for the loss that they have to endure every day. Not only have they lost their son Shedhe to exile, but every day they have to watch the destruction of their culture and religion, and live in terrible fear of the people who have surrounded them. I've heard stories of the things his parents had to endure after the Chinese occupation (they were relatively young when it happened, but the brutality lasted for a long time), and I see the physical scars and deformities from it on their bodies. I see it in their faces and hear it in their voices. Though conditions there are much better now than they were for a long time after the Chinese first came in, it is still a daily struggle. Already they live in a climate which itself makes living difficult, but now they are prisoners in their own lands.