Counties Mayo, Galway and Clare.
So after a week on the farm I left feeling refreshed, challenged and satisfied with the work I'd contributed. I then had three days cycling around Counties Mayo, and Galway (the middle knob of Ireland's west coast), with tail winds all the way. The remarkable thing about this was I traveling in three different directions, west, south and east, and that two of these tail winds (easterly and northerly behind me the first two days) were opposite to the prevailing south-westerly.
The most beautiful part of this area is undoubtedly Connemara National Park, in the southwest corner. It has beautiful mountains along next to the sea which makes for some great coastline, mountain passes with great views of lakes or bays. I had a great night in Clifden, where between the hostel's free food basket and the owner inviting me to clean out the freezer I had a free dinner and breakfast, including chocolate icecream! (for dinner not breakfast). Then while I was washing up one of the guests in town for the local music festival started playing the squeeze box (Irish name for the accordion), I could hardly do the dishes for dancing! After that I walked and hitched my way about four miles to a viewing point to watch the sunset. It's a marvelous spot where one can see along the coast in both directions, including the many little islands off from the national park as well as across Galway bay to the Aran Islands. At the lookout I met a couple of young locals who practically forced me to drink half their bottle of very sweet French red wine, and pointed out the names of various places. I hitched my way back into town and headed for a pub the hostel owner had suggested, apparently the only venue in town with free music as part of the festival. It was my first Irish pub session and I had a great time with some others from the hostel. It was only partially spoilt by some right wing Dubya loving Irishman who kept raving on about free speech - telling him to shut up only mad things worse off course. What made it interesting was that my other companions were two young Americans who claimed to be left leaning and seeing what happened when I started to play loony lefty to counter the raving righty.
The next day I managed to escape the righty before we got bogged down in disagreement and headed for Galway. I had a great day past more mountains and then down to the coast, which became more built up as I approached Galway, one of Ireland’s four biggest cities. I was hoping to stay with a Servas host but kept finding the number engaged. I kept waiting before finally trying to find a youth hostel. By the time I got around to this though (about 7:30pm) I found that all six of them were full! I was most surprised as the tourist season was pretty much over and I hadn’t had any trouble for a couple of weeks. My theory was that being the first week back at uni, there were a lot of students who hadn’t found a place to rent yet and so were staying in hostels, and it was also the weekend. So I was getting really stuck, a few B&Bs I tried were also full and I’d gone to various places to ask for suggestions. At about 9:30pm, well after dark and getting cold, someone suggested another hostel, which wasn’t listed in the tourist guides. On enquiring about a bed I was told that there were plenty of beds but no receptionist. I’d got a bit frantic by this point so hadn’t noticed some of the early signs and was simply relieved to find there was a bed. Then I started to work it out. Everyone else there were residents on a longer term stay, the hostel wasn’t really in operation but just being operated by someone on the side. When I went to look at the rooms I realised how run down the place was. The only shower that actually worked couldn’t be turned off and all the beds had dirty laundry on them. One of the residents, a perhaps slightly unstable busybody, sorted me out though, found me a clean sheet and showed to an empty room. At this point I was just happy to find somewhere I could sleep the night, and book somewhere else in the morning. Then the receptionist returned (he’d been out fishing) and didn’t seem at all interested in my presence. Later he asked if I’d found clean linen and said he hadn’t had any for three weeks! He didn’t ask me for money, and although I saw him collect it off two others, I didn’t feel obliged to offer it given the conditions. Then I went to check out a few pubs. I ducked my head into a few and had a drink at a couple but way ahead of the rest was Tis Coile right in the city centre and with the liveliest music. Would you believe I spent the night chatting with a guy from Newcastle (Australia not England) who’d made friends with a guy from Galway who’d studied in Newcastle, reciprocated the exchange, met a girl and decided he like the city so much, he’d settle there. I can certainly see why, best city in Ireland I reckon.
The following day figured I didn’t have to worry about check out time so slept in, had a bit of walk around the city sights and then went to an internet café. There I sat next to a woman of Irish birth who’d been living I in Sydney but come back to Ireland for a year. She was trying to buy tickets to Sydney as a surprise for her daughter’s 21st birthday. She was having trouble, I gave her some help, we got talking, I told her where I was staying and she invited me to stay the night with her. I went back to the hostel where I’d decided I could cope with another free night and packed in about 15 minutes, faster than I ever have before or since, back to the café and home with her where I had to pretend to be her nephew on the off chance that the mysterious woman who lived in the upstairs room happened to appear (but she didn’t). It turned out a great night’s conversation with Bridget having some interesting perspectives, informed by her Catholic upbringing, time in the Pentecostal church but then being quite progressive around issues of empowerment and opposed to institutions, yet still fervently opposed to both contraception and abortion - I think that’s how she is anyway. She was also a great cook, and gave me the recipe for some fantastic mountain bread.
The next morning was wet and miserable so I didn’t leave until 2pm, heading for Doolin. On the way out of town though I got a flat tyre, changed it in an underground carpark and went back to find a bike shop to buy another tube. Got further out of town wondering how far I could get before dark and then discovered my bike rack had cracked in a second place. The first spot was inconsequential, gravity held it in place, I’d tied it with a piece of string and it had been that way for months. This however was not going to be so easily mended and I didn’t think I could replace very easily without going back to Galway. I managed to get back to town and find a bike shop with an appropriate rack just before closing. Finished fitting it on the street outside and then tried Bridget again before the hostels. It was fine to stay with her except she was going to the Rossport 5 meeting so wouldn’t be around for the evening.
Well, that was just meant to be. The previous day I’d been walking around town and kept seeing signs about this meeting, called by some local activists who were campaigning on behalf of 5 men from Rossport who’d been wrongly imprisoned. I was very curious to find out more but had felt I needed to keep moving rather than stay another night for the meeting. So the bike problems couldn’t have had better timing and Bridget lived in walking distance of the meeting.
It was an interesting meeting and well attended. The men had been imprisoned for contempt of court for refusing to obey a court order to let shell put an oil pipe line across their land. The case was significant both because of the global precedent of corporations (as opposed to governments) having power over private land but also because the men had actually been imprisoned for contempt of court for not doing something - apparently also a unique precedent in Ireland. So we heard from a legal expert and members of the family but also a sociologist who gave an excellent summary and analysis of the situation from an activist point of view and various power dynamics involved. Then the chance for public comment, and the usual grandstanders. I suppose from another perspective this might include me getting up an expressing solidarity from the Australian activist community (how pretentious really!) reinforcing the global importance of these battles and sharing the recent events relating to the deportation of American nonviolent peace activist Scott Parkin from Australia. (A group I’m part of called pt’chang was one of the inviting parties so I’d followed it quite closely from abroad). Then there was quite an interesting exchange between various politicians who were in the audience both local and national. The dialogue between them was much more frank, honest and to the point than what I would have expected to hear from there Australian equivalents with representatives from opposing parties not only joking with each other but giving each other credit where it was due. It seems the representational system of democracy might still have something going for it in Ireland. I’ve just checked the latest and it appears the Rossport 5 were released about 3 weeks ago but face a return to prison, and the campaign continues at full steam. More info at http://www.corribsos.com/
On the way out of town the next day I got another flat tyre, but had gone far enough not to be worth going back. I cycled down through the Burren, a series of quite distinct rocky limestone hills that just appeared to be piles of boulders. I climbed one of them, Abbey Hill, and had lunch enjoying the view of Galway Bay from the other side and then rode on down. I stayed the night in Doolin, which is apparently the music capital of Ireland but the fact that it has more hostels than pubs should've been a give away that this is a bit of an exaggeration for the tourists. While the pub was pretty lively with good music for a week night, it was not as good as the time I had in Galway. Mind you there must be something in the claim because coming through one of the nearby towns I saw a group of people who'd started a singalong out the front of a pub at about 6pm, already several drinks down.
From Doolin I rode down to the cliffs of Mohar which everyone raved about and again I was a little disappointed, mainly because they just don't compare to the cliffs of Slieve League. Now admittedly I'd seen those on a sunny day, while Mohar was grey and dismal but these were fairly standard cliffs, vertical and level at the top and not nearly as high as Slieve League. The large construction site for the new visitor centre (which will completely spoil everything and probably start charging for entry) certainly didn't help either. (I'm not sure whether they build these monstrosities so they can start charging an entry fee or feel they should be charging but have to build the monstrosities to justify it?). Having said all that, they are interesting sea cliffs, I guess I've just seen a lot of great scenery in Ireland and so my standards have really been lifted. Anyway, I rode on down to Ennis and caught a train (well three actually) down south to Killarney, but that's for another post.
The most beautiful part of this area is undoubtedly Connemara National Park, in the southwest corner. It has beautiful mountains along next to the sea which makes for some great coastline, mountain passes with great views of lakes or bays. I had a great night in Clifden, where between the hostel's free food basket and the owner inviting me to clean out the freezer I had a free dinner and breakfast, including chocolate icecream! (for dinner not breakfast). Then while I was washing up one of the guests in town for the local music festival started playing the squeeze box (Irish name for the accordion), I could hardly do the dishes for dancing! After that I walked and hitched my way about four miles to a viewing point to watch the sunset. It's a marvelous spot where one can see along the coast in both directions, including the many little islands off from the national park as well as across Galway bay to the Aran Islands. At the lookout I met a couple of young locals who practically forced me to drink half their bottle of very sweet French red wine, and pointed out the names of various places. I hitched my way back into town and headed for a pub the hostel owner had suggested, apparently the only venue in town with free music as part of the festival. It was my first Irish pub session and I had a great time with some others from the hostel. It was only partially spoilt by some right wing Dubya loving Irishman who kept raving on about free speech - telling him to shut up only mad things worse off course. What made it interesting was that my other companions were two young Americans who claimed to be left leaning and seeing what happened when I started to play loony lefty to counter the raving righty.
The next day I managed to escape the righty before we got bogged down in disagreement and headed for Galway. I had a great day past more mountains and then down to the coast, which became more built up as I approached Galway, one of Ireland’s four biggest cities. I was hoping to stay with a Servas host but kept finding the number engaged. I kept waiting before finally trying to find a youth hostel. By the time I got around to this though (about 7:30pm) I found that all six of them were full! I was most surprised as the tourist season was pretty much over and I hadn’t had any trouble for a couple of weeks. My theory was that being the first week back at uni, there were a lot of students who hadn’t found a place to rent yet and so were staying in hostels, and it was also the weekend. So I was getting really stuck, a few B&Bs I tried were also full and I’d gone to various places to ask for suggestions. At about 9:30pm, well after dark and getting cold, someone suggested another hostel, which wasn’t listed in the tourist guides. On enquiring about a bed I was told that there were plenty of beds but no receptionist. I’d got a bit frantic by this point so hadn’t noticed some of the early signs and was simply relieved to find there was a bed. Then I started to work it out. Everyone else there were residents on a longer term stay, the hostel wasn’t really in operation but just being operated by someone on the side. When I went to look at the rooms I realised how run down the place was. The only shower that actually worked couldn’t be turned off and all the beds had dirty laundry on them. One of the residents, a perhaps slightly unstable busybody, sorted me out though, found me a clean sheet and showed to an empty room. At this point I was just happy to find somewhere I could sleep the night, and book somewhere else in the morning. Then the receptionist returned (he’d been out fishing) and didn’t seem at all interested in my presence. Later he asked if I’d found clean linen and said he hadn’t had any for three weeks! He didn’t ask me for money, and although I saw him collect it off two others, I didn’t feel obliged to offer it given the conditions. Then I went to check out a few pubs. I ducked my head into a few and had a drink at a couple but way ahead of the rest was Tis Coile right in the city centre and with the liveliest music. Would you believe I spent the night chatting with a guy from Newcastle (Australia not England) who’d made friends with a guy from Galway who’d studied in Newcastle, reciprocated the exchange, met a girl and decided he like the city so much, he’d settle there. I can certainly see why, best city in Ireland I reckon.
The following day figured I didn’t have to worry about check out time so slept in, had a bit of walk around the city sights and then went to an internet café. There I sat next to a woman of Irish birth who’d been living I in Sydney but come back to Ireland for a year. She was trying to buy tickets to Sydney as a surprise for her daughter’s 21st birthday. She was having trouble, I gave her some help, we got talking, I told her where I was staying and she invited me to stay the night with her. I went back to the hostel where I’d decided I could cope with another free night and packed in about 15 minutes, faster than I ever have before or since, back to the café and home with her where I had to pretend to be her nephew on the off chance that the mysterious woman who lived in the upstairs room happened to appear (but she didn’t). It turned out a great night’s conversation with Bridget having some interesting perspectives, informed by her Catholic upbringing, time in the Pentecostal church but then being quite progressive around issues of empowerment and opposed to institutions, yet still fervently opposed to both contraception and abortion - I think that’s how she is anyway. She was also a great cook, and gave me the recipe for some fantastic mountain bread.
The next morning was wet and miserable so I didn’t leave until 2pm, heading for Doolin. On the way out of town though I got a flat tyre, changed it in an underground carpark and went back to find a bike shop to buy another tube. Got further out of town wondering how far I could get before dark and then discovered my bike rack had cracked in a second place. The first spot was inconsequential, gravity held it in place, I’d tied it with a piece of string and it had been that way for months. This however was not going to be so easily mended and I didn’t think I could replace very easily without going back to Galway. I managed to get back to town and find a bike shop with an appropriate rack just before closing. Finished fitting it on the street outside and then tried Bridget again before the hostels. It was fine to stay with her except she was going to the Rossport 5 meeting so wouldn’t be around for the evening.
Well, that was just meant to be. The previous day I’d been walking around town and kept seeing signs about this meeting, called by some local activists who were campaigning on behalf of 5 men from Rossport who’d been wrongly imprisoned. I was very curious to find out more but had felt I needed to keep moving rather than stay another night for the meeting. So the bike problems couldn’t have had better timing and Bridget lived in walking distance of the meeting.
It was an interesting meeting and well attended. The men had been imprisoned for contempt of court for refusing to obey a court order to let shell put an oil pipe line across their land. The case was significant both because of the global precedent of corporations (as opposed to governments) having power over private land but also because the men had actually been imprisoned for contempt of court for not doing something - apparently also a unique precedent in Ireland. So we heard from a legal expert and members of the family but also a sociologist who gave an excellent summary and analysis of the situation from an activist point of view and various power dynamics involved. Then the chance for public comment, and the usual grandstanders. I suppose from another perspective this might include me getting up an expressing solidarity from the Australian activist community (how pretentious really!) reinforcing the global importance of these battles and sharing the recent events relating to the deportation of American nonviolent peace activist Scott Parkin from Australia. (A group I’m part of called pt’chang was one of the inviting parties so I’d followed it quite closely from abroad). Then there was quite an interesting exchange between various politicians who were in the audience both local and national. The dialogue between them was much more frank, honest and to the point than what I would have expected to hear from there Australian equivalents with representatives from opposing parties not only joking with each other but giving each other credit where it was due. It seems the representational system of democracy might still have something going for it in Ireland. I’ve just checked the latest and it appears the Rossport 5 were released about 3 weeks ago but face a return to prison, and the campaign continues at full steam. More info at http://www.corribsos.com/
On the way out of town the next day I got another flat tyre, but had gone far enough not to be worth going back. I cycled down through the Burren, a series of quite distinct rocky limestone hills that just appeared to be piles of boulders. I climbed one of them, Abbey Hill, and had lunch enjoying the view of Galway Bay from the other side and then rode on down. I stayed the night in Doolin, which is apparently the music capital of Ireland but the fact that it has more hostels than pubs should've been a give away that this is a bit of an exaggeration for the tourists. While the pub was pretty lively with good music for a week night, it was not as good as the time I had in Galway. Mind you there must be something in the claim because coming through one of the nearby towns I saw a group of people who'd started a singalong out the front of a pub at about 6pm, already several drinks down.
From Doolin I rode down to the cliffs of Mohar which everyone raved about and again I was a little disappointed, mainly because they just don't compare to the cliffs of Slieve League. Now admittedly I'd seen those on a sunny day, while Mohar was grey and dismal but these were fairly standard cliffs, vertical and level at the top and not nearly as high as Slieve League. The large construction site for the new visitor centre (which will completely spoil everything and probably start charging for entry) certainly didn't help either. (I'm not sure whether they build these monstrosities so they can start charging an entry fee or feel they should be charging but have to build the monstrosities to justify it?). Having said all that, they are interesting sea cliffs, I guess I've just seen a lot of great scenery in Ireland and so my standards have really been lifted. Anyway, I rode on down to Ennis and caught a train (well three actually) down south to Killarney, but that's for another post.
posted by James Tonson | 8:32 am
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