'Tis grand: or, In the Footsteps of the Famine, part 4

Day 1: The arrival


This was the fourth in a series of business trips to the west of Ireland on behalf of Quinnipiac University. The usual nonsense of checkin, luggage and security seemed almost routine by now. When we got to the international gate, I looked at our plane to see which saint it was named after (each plane in Aer Lingus' fleet is named for a saint - in this case Aoise.) The takeoff took us over the rockaways and out to sea for 6 hours.

I tried all the usual tricks to get to sleep, but nothing worked, so I was faced with a day that would be about 27 hours with no sleep. The first of many happy coincidences came when the first sighting of Irish land took place, I saw an island out the window and thought "This looks like the Blaskets and Slea Head." It was - proof came seconds later when Castlegregory appeared with its tonsil shaped peninsula going down to the Magharee Islands. Once off the plane, the line for passport check was torturous, but it didn't matter because the bags also took forever once we were past that. On arriving in the lobby, we spotted Des Kenny, Quinnipiac's official Irish bookseller, who had graciously offered to get up at 5 AM and pick us up and take us to Galway.
At one point in the past, I had bragged to Des that I could talk digitization in a coma. He happily put that to the test by lining up three meetings with librarians and booksellers on my arrival day. Along the way, he stopped at Yeats' Tower, which we had never seen. It was an absolutely stunning sight in the midst of a dense forest and flowing stream. All I could say was 'Wow' as I wandered around taking many pictures. It was a fabulous reception for the returning eirophiles.

As we arrived in Galway, Des figured out a way for us to take showers at a local fitness club, using a bit of influence. Afterwards, we had a wonderful buffet breakfast at a hotel in Salthill.
Then it was off to the first meeting of the day - a nice chat with the County Librarian of Galway, Pat MacMahon. The only thing worse than Galway traffic is Galway parking, so Des was having fits by the time that we got a spot near library headquarters. Pat was a very soft spoken librarian who was proud of what his library had accomplished in preserving the county's heritage. He had heretofore been completely unaware of Quinnipiac, so the first job was to fix that. After a slow beginning, Pat got to the heart of the matter. He told us that he supports all of the new technologies because they lead people to old and valuable holdings that they never would have encountered without technology. His antiquarian-looking office, lined with shelves overlooks at peaceful river scene. McMahon's inspiration was Galway's first county librarian, Samuel Maguire, who had the foresight to develop a substantial collection of books in the Irish language. In the 1950's, he also published a journal of local history that is an enduring resource for the area. I brought up some possibilities for cooperation that I hope will bear fruit someday.

Afterwards, we went to Kenny books headquarters on Tuam road and looked at the Kenny operation. One part of his second floor is an archive of pictures of every famous author who had walked through their doors when they ran a ground bookstore in downtown Galway. He reached in to one rack and pulled out a picture saying _"Here is a famous librarian for you - Sister Marie Melton from St. John's." I said, sure thing, she was my boss in the 90s when I worked there as a part-time reference librarian.

We were then led to the boardroom where we were shown a major collection of letters from an Irish landloard during the Famine years. This is the kind of collection that anyone would kill for - absolutely one-of-a-kind source materials. The kind of collection that would make us a major player in Irish scholarship. I'd recommend buying it, but I'm not the one to make the big decisions. We then walked a block over to the workshop where Des' brother Gerry does rebinding. We were prepared to give them some business - a pair of Mark Twain first editions in terrible shape that deserved better. We're looking forward to seeing them in their new finery.
Des then dropped us off at our hotel so I could check in, change shirts and lie down for 5 minutes before moving on to the University of Ireland Galway campus to talk with librarians in their special collections department. They have just bought a very expensive scanner, but are still in the process of determining how to proceed with digitization. I explained a bit of what we are doing, and mentioned that when they put things up, we will be happy to link to what they are supplying.

Des took me on a tour of Salthill (where we had stayed in the 1970s as tourists), and then it was on to Tom Kenny's art gallery on High Street. This was in the location that had been, for many years, the Kenny book store. They were preparing for a major opening, so there was much excitement and moving of art objects. By now I was starting to see double or maybe triple after 26 hours without sleep, so Des got me back to the hotel so we could have a blessed hour or two before dinner. We quickly got a wakeup call that we're in a foreign country. First there was the power - nothing was on. They told me that I had to put my key in a key-slot near the door. This got things going, but they went off again after 5 minutes. Then I was told that I had to keep the key there until I left. Then we found out that the TV remote didn't work, and our adapters were only for the UK. After all this waqs settled, we took a brief nap. I woke up not knowing who I was, what time it was, or where I was. Once we sorted all that out, it turned out that we were right on time to change and meet the Kennys' at a bar next to the art gallery. There we sat down for brews with Des and Tom and a sculptor who had produced some very innovative Famine images - he said that the point he tried to make was that the Famine hit all levels of society, not just the poor.

We met Des' wife Anne at a nearby seafood restaurant, and were treated to a fine meal indeed. I had heard from my director that Anne was an absolutely delightful person, and she did not disappoint. Des is a major local celebrity in Galway, and well known at the restaurant. After dinner we went to one more bar for one more drink. At this point, I think I was babbling about my love for Ireland, when Anne asked me to repeat "'Tis grand." I did and knew instantly that this would be the title of my blog for this trip. Thanks, Anne. Des got us back to the hotel where we found out it was now 11 PM. The best thing you can do is to stay up to a normal bedtime, so we were looking perfect. What a day.

Day 2: The Jet Lag

Incredibly, we woke up when we should have. I looked over at my Verizon cell phone. They told me it was activated for foreign travel, but after 12 hours, it was still searching for a signal. The hotel breakfast was surprisingly good - I don't know what is different about eggs in England and Ireland, but theirs are way better than the American egg. Donna had porridge which turned out to be fabulous. Afterwards, we had just time enough to pack up and wait out front for Des to pick us up and take us to the Galway regional airport to pick up our car rental. Our first stop was Ennis, where we would be talking with Maureen Comber from the Clare County Library. Unofrtunately, I did not secure directions, so we parked near downtown and asked at the tourist information booth in the museum. Turns out that we were only a couple of blocks away. This would be a brief visit because Clare has already done a fantastic job in making their historic materials available on the internet. I still think it is valuable to check in with others to make them aware of what we are doing.

Next stop was the town of Doolin on the Northwest coast of the Burren. This was the departure point for a ferry that would take us to the smallest and southernmost Aran Island - Inisheer. We got there early, hoping to take an earlier ferry than the 5:15 passage we'd booked. We found that not only is there no previous run, but ours would be an hour late, so we settled in for relaxing and hiking in a rugged Burren setting. I could see a ruin on the shoreline north of us, so I headed for that. Donna found a flat rock and was soon napping.

After delays piled on more delays, we finally saw our boat, the Happy Hooker, pull up to the dock. There were just 5 or 6 other people going to Inisheer for the night, and the ride out was smooth and brief - just about a half hour. Our host was waiting at the dock, and we were at the guest house within minutes. The lodge had just been built so everything was clean and new. We were at the edge of town, so we soon were working our way up the road to enjoy the beautiful desolation of the Aran Islands. At eight we sat down at the Fisherman's Cottage, a fine dining restaurant that was part of the Slow Food Movement (the opposite of fast food - part of the credo is that they know where all of the food came from), and had a wonderful dinner. Quite a pleasant surprise in an island that doesn't even have a grocery store. Enda and Maria, the owners, are as interesting a couple as you will ever meet. Among other things they owned the beautifully outfitted B&B where we stayed (built by hand by Enda), worked as life counselors, and ran seminars on the slow food movement. Enda also mentioned that he was a licensed chiropactor. As we were walking out of the restaurant, I got out the camera because the sun was setting over Inishmaan and Inishmore. No phone or internet in the guest house, so we walked down to the dock and found a pay phone at the newer pub, so we could check in with our son.

Day 3: On the road



The next morning, we were up bright and early and ready to explore. The ferry back to the mainland wasn't scheduled to pick us up until noon, so we had time to go explore. I started up the hill to reach the castle, but it turned out like Kafka's castle. The more we walked up the hill, the further the castle became. We went all the way back down and tried again. We got directions from the man at the older pub, and headed up the right way. Donna was joined by a Jack Russell Terrier (Irish Rent-a-dog), who followed us up the road but turned back then the going got steep. The view from the top was well worth the effort of getting there. When we walked back down, the gate to the castle was open so we walked up to it.

Sursprise! The ferry was running late, so we had time to make a bonus trip to the graveyard. Our host dropped us off and we walked back and got one more fine meal at the Fisherman's Cottage before heading back. I found on the map that one could avoid a detour to the awful roads of Limerick by taking a ferry across the Shannon, so we headed for that. According to their posted schedule we should have missed the 4:30 ferry, but it was running late, so we drove up just as they were unloading and got right on. Then it was a straight shot down to Listowel and Tralee. When we hit downtown Tralee, I wasn't sure where I was until I saw the cathedral, and then I knew exactly where I was and where to go next.

After a mixup about the location of our landlady, we headed to the Spar grocer in downtown Castlegregory and stocked up with Irish dairy items and boiling bacon. Across the street was our favorite eating place on the peninsula - Phil's Cafe. Since this was off-season, Phil gave himself some generous time off, so we determined that we could have scones there on Thursday. Then we found our landlady and went down the road to our cottage which was, as advertised, a five minute walk from the bay. We were surprised to hear that the cottage was more than 200 years old - the only immediate giveaway was the thickness of the walls - more than two feet. It was perfectly comfortable and more than enough room for the two of us. An hour later, we went to the front and got another sunset shot.