Friday, October 1, 1999

I was sorry to leave Galway – could have stayed longer in the area which had become familiar to us. We’d also enjoyed our time with Helene and Pat Hanlan. Before we left Seattle we’d read that, if we were invited into an Irish home, it was a good idea to take a gift. I’d consulted with Alyx on what to take, and she said bath soaps. So I’d bought half a dozen bars of glycerine soap. They were heavy in my suitcase, and we’d not had an opportunity to give them to anyone. But we’d spent four evenings at the Hanlans’ home. They’d been friendly and helpful – even moved us to a bigger room on the third day of our visit without any suggestion from us (and, chimed Art, always kept the coffeepot on for me), and had spent time giving us a hand with planning our visit. So we gave Helene the soaps. We told her that they had welcomed us not only into their business, but into their home.

(Art has asked to include this about the Hanlans’ B&B: it was built only 12 years ago, in the orchard of a castle that was still standing. On the side of their property there was a watchtower, and the wall out in front of the B&B was the original castle wall. The wall is now about 15 feet high, but some of it was knocked down when the house was built because the owners didn’t want it falling down.)

We’d decided to head north. We wanted to do some genealogical exploring, and some of Art’s relatives had come from County Mayo, so we decided to head up to the town of Ballinrobe, the genealogical research center for the southern half of that county, and then spend a night in Sligo, our most northerly point. On the way, we drove through the northern end of Connemara and visited Ashcroft Castle in the village of Cong. The castle was built over time, starting sometime in the 1200s and then added on to during two later time periods. Art could tell the different architectural styles. The place was owned at one time by the Guinness family; I recalled that, during our tour of Dublin, the guide had said that Guinness and his wife had 22 children. This castle was plenty big for all of them. In the 20th century it was bought by an American company and refurbished as a luxury hotel costing about 200 pounds a night per person. That would be about $260. The grounds are extensive and beautiful. We wandered around, climbing into watch guard towers. Art explored an underground passage. There was falconer there, training a young Harris hawk to “socialize”, and we stopped and chatted with her. She and her husband were from Scotland and were starting up a falconry school close by. Interesting comparison between training birds and training pigs!

We then stopped at the genealogical research center in Ballinrobe. The office was closed for lunch, so we went across the street to a little restaurant to eat and wait for the place to open. I was looking for a restroom but the restaurant’s were out of order. We were sent to the public library, behind another building across the street, and the library was closed also. It was a pretty uncomfortable half hour – the only secluded outdoor spot I could find was an old cemetery, and I just couldn’t bring myself to “go there”. Fortunately, the genealogy center opened back up and the lady let me use theirs. She commented that the restaurant’s restrooms always have “out of order” signs on the doors; she suspected that they didn’t want tourists wandering in and out.

We were looking for predecessors of Art where the man had come from County Mayo and the woman from County Galway. We learned at the genealogy center that marriage records would usually be in the county of the bride. And we hadn’t checked in at the center in Galway. So we were out of luck, but consoled by the fact that we had the list of centers by county. We’d be able to make our requests after we got home. I figured out that we hadn’t done enough of our search before we got to Ireland. Next time, I’ll be better prepared.

We drove on then to our B&B in Sligo. This place had been recommended to us by Helene Hanlan in Galway, but I didn’t much like it. It was a big old house, with a flamboyant décor, and it was cold. The weather had turned cooler several days before and our hostess had not yet turned on the heat. However, it was the biggest room we had on the whole trip, and the only one that had a bathtub. Our hostess recommended a couple of restaurants, but we got lost following her directions. As we got out of the car and looked around in vain, we saw a taxi driver and asked for directions from him. He asked us if we liked Chinese food. When we said yes, he suggested one that was right on the corner by us. So we ate there. The décor was Chinese, but the waitresses weren’t, and the food, though having familiar names, tasted like “fake” Chinese. We figured it was because the only fresh vegetables in the dishes were carrots. Art says something got lost in the translation.

Tomorrow will be our last touring day. I realized that, after 15 days, I’m ready to go home. I’m starting to wonder how the kids are, how the pig is, what’s going on at work. And I have to admit that, even though I’m accustomed to gloomy weather at home, it’s wearing on me on vacation.

Saturday, October 2, 1999

We had an interesting breakfast conversation with a couple from Sweden working in Dublin. We talked the European Union and the advantages and disadvantages. Apparently Ireland is one of three European countries who have been the primary economic beneficiaries of the program. I have noticed throughout this trip that Ireland is not a poor country, not backward, which is somewhat different from what I remember from 30 years ago. So that might be part of the reason. We also talked about my 20-year-old son James and his career and life uncertainties. They thought he was right on track, that it was good that he was giving himself some time to figure out what he really wanted to do. I told them that he was part Swedish and that he would be interested to know that we’d talked to some Swedish people and gotten that opinion from them.

When we left the B&B it was cold outside, for the first time. We had mapped about five places we wanted to stop and visit – one genealogical and about four historic sites. The first two were right around Sligo, but we couldn’t find the road leading to either one of them, so we figured we weren’t supposed to see those sites. Looking for the third stop, we took the wrong road and then got lost, which meant we were batting zip so far. Then it started to rain. The rain continued for most of the day. Because Art’s rain jacket had leaked during the last downpour he’d worn it in, he wasn’t much interested in exploring more ruins in a downpour. So we skipped the next site.

We did stop at Strokestown to go through the famine museum there, discussing the political and economic factors and their impact on County Rossmoor and on the landowner family that had owned the castle and grounds where the famine museum was located.

The following paragraphs are taken from the Guide to the Strokestown Famine Museum.

The Famine Museum at Strokestown Park represents the first national attempt at confronting and discussing the history of the Great Irish Famine. It was developed…to balance the history of the Big House, using original documents from the Strokestown Park Archive to tell the tenant’s story. The aim of the Museum is to educate and to provoke discussion of this most tragic time in our history.

The Land and People: With a pre-famine population of more than 8 million people, competition for land was fierce and often people from a townland would come together in a collective partnership and rent land in a communal manner. This was known as the rundale system and the housing settlement was known as a clachan.

The Potato: The potato was nutritious, easy to grow and provided sufficient bulk to provide for the family for the following year. The average adult consumed 14 pounds of potatoes per day. In the early 19th century, the Irish tenantry had developed a proficiency in cultivating the potato producing a higher output per acre than any of their European counterparts. Because land was scarce, there was a huge dependency on the potato and when blight destroyed the crop, those who were relying on it faced starvation.

Emigration: The landowners were made responsible for providing for the destitute in their own areas and it was cheaper to send them on an assisted emigration than to pay for their upkeep in the workhouse….Major Mahon sent 1,000 tenants to Canada on three ships, almost half of them died on the voyage due to a combination of their weakened state and the unsanitary conditions of the ships.

Eviction: The evictions continued mercilessly on the estate at Strokestown….

The Aftermath: The famine completely wiped out the poorest social class, the landless labourer. The language declined, emigration became a way of life, and people strove to completely erase from their minds all memories of the most catastrophic event in Ireland’s past.

Off then to County Westmeath where I knew I had some ancestors. We stopped in Moate, the town where the genealogical society for the county was located, but they were closed because it was Saturday. Did stop at a pub there which turned out to be the customs house for the town in 1702. I could imagine one of my ancestors sitting in that same building 300 years ago.

We headed east then, toward Dublin, wanting to get to our last B&B before dark. Took a narrow back road to the town of Trim, where I also had recorded an ancestor. In that town we checked with the Tourist Information and got a map which showed where my Westmeath ancestors had lived. It was about 15 miles back in the direction we had come from, but it was getting late and the road was poor, so we decided against returning to the place. I commented to Art that I wish we’d had one more day to explore, as I think we could have come up with interesting information, possibly even a burial ground.

In Trim is the ruined castle where Braveheart was filmed. It sits behind the present-day town, which is quite a vital, commercial little village. The ruins are a looming reminder of the history of the place. There was an orange crane on top of the castle because it was being excavated and repaired. Another reminder of the side-by-side contrast between the old and the new in Ireland.

We also spent some frustrating minutes driving around in a concerted search for the public toilets. Art said he wanted to stop at the police station – which we did find, every time we drove around that block – and tell them that the public toilets had been stolen. I said no, he didn’t want to do that.

On then to Dublin. We had a heck of a time finding our B&B – drove down several roads in the twilight in vain before finally arriving. Turns out we could have cut quite a bit of time off our trip if we’d come in from the west rather than from the south as the B&B book instructed.

Our last dinner in Ireland was in a pub in Swords, where the tail end of the US-Ireland rugby match of the rugby World Cup was on TV. Art heard someone say, “The US isn’t a rugby country, so we’d expect to win.” And they did. Ireland trounced the US team.

Sunday, October 3, 1999

We were up at 6, left the B&B quietly in the pre-dawn darkness. Headed for the car return place, where we cooled our heels for 20 minutes before the shuttle driver/car rental agent turned up. Got to the airport in plenty of time and had a very quick, well organized check in. Found Christmas gifts for James and Greg in the terminal. The flight to London was uneventful. We had a three-hour layover in Heathrow, very crowded place, very expensive food. I commented to Art that it amazes me that the British were able to amass a worldwide empire with the inefficiency we saw at Heathrow both times we went through it on this trip.

The flight home was long again, and this time all in daylight as we regained the eight hours we’d lost on the way over. When the clouds cleared we were able to see frozen north country – uninhabited, very icy. We saw iceburgs that looked like soap flakes lying in a pail of water. First time I’d ever seen anything like that.

The last leg, Vancouver to Seattle, was on a 38-passenger puddle jumper again. The phrase “I think I can, I think I can” comes to mind as the little engines droned in their climb to about 10000 feet. In spite of myself, I listened carefully to the sound of those engines.

James picked us up. It was only about 7:30 pm in Seattle, but it was the wee hours of the next morning to us. We had taken the jet lag pills faithfully on the return trip, but it took me four days to recover anyway.