Last day and departure

Day 8, Saturday, October 9, 2010

Woke up at 7 and tip-toed through the living room where Piet was sleeping fitfully on the couch, and started brekky as Tim and Leila started to stir. Had hash browns left over from last night and scrambled eggs and scones we bought yesterday afternoon. Piet up around 8:30. Did some tidying up in preparation for our departure, threw out the milk that curdled in my tea and various other stuff that we knew we’d never use. Leila swept and mopped while I tidied up. One of the things I hated to do was to throw out the compostables and the prospect of throwing out perfectly good food (like sugar), which we know the next renters will probably need. Have decided to put the bag of sugar in a plastic bag in the cupboard. So there.

Wrote in the guest book and made a list of suggestions for the owners, including revising the Web site to indicate that “internet available” suggests internet available in the house but in fact we had to drive into the café-jel in Ennistimon to use the internet and upload the daily blog. It wasn’t such a bad thing but just something to know. Piet was able to get the oven to light so we crossed that off the maintenance list. Tim and Leila took a little toot up the hill and into the hills for the fun of it, Piet snoozed most of the morning and I read from a memoir about life in County Clare in the 1930s and 40s. Had lunch of ham and cheese samiches under the broiler and bunches of grapes and then Tim took off for Doolin to reserve Table 2 for us for tonight to celebrate Chip and Gay’s 39th anniversary. Our reservation is for 7:30. Tim got lost meandering back to the cottage and discovered a couple of castles nestled in the hillside. Chip and Gay still not back at 3:30 so we’re guessing (me fretting) that they had a leisurely brekky and ambled home taking their time.

Leila picked a beautiful bouquet of flowers for Gay and Chip of the wild tiny orange lilies (name escapes me) and fuschia, which grows in profusion in all the hedgerows. With crayons she found in the cupboard, she designed and colored a Happy Anniversary message to them on a paper napkin. She put this beautiful display next to their bed.

I took a walk down the lane and discovered a beautiful white rose climbing into the upper reaches of a grape vine laden with grapes growing over the stone wall of the cottage down at the end of the lane, which appears to be unoccupied. Picked some roses for Gay and Chip and added some wild honeysuckle and hawthorn berries on my way back, which I put on the other side of their bed.

I passed the time playing solitaire until they pulled into the driveway around 5:30 happy to be home but filled with the stories of their drive to Castletownshend--which shook the confidence of Gay, our primo navigator, when they tried to find their way through Cork--and their stay with her cousin Mark, and the leisurely trip home, all of which Chip has chronicled below.

At 7:00 we took off for Doolin for our night out, a treat for Gay and Chip. It turned out that Ted McCormac was the musician for the evening, our all-time favorite. The food was delicious and abundant – huge lamb shanks on a bed of mashed potatoes (Tim, Chip, Gay, Leila), chicken taliatelle (me), chicken cacciatore (Piet). We sat next to a family of Irish-Americans who had been on the plane out of Logan who were here for a wedding, and a group of Canadians from Toronto who knew all about Georgian Bay. Small world dept. The music (Ted, the banjo player from last night, and a guitar player from South Africa who has been living in Ireland for 11 years) was incredible. Ted sang a love song to “Chip and Gale,” at Tim’s request, which the banjo player picked up on and called them “Chip and Dale.” Very funny. We stayed almost to the bitter end, long enough to hear Ted sing A Song for Ireland, a perfect way for the evening to end. Home and in bed by midnight.

Sunday, October 10, 2010 (10/10/10)

I was first up at 6:30, Piet snoring happily in bed (not on the couch) on this gray day, the rest of the gang up by 7. We cooked all the eggs and bacon we had left, threw out everything else (as per Hettie, the caretaker), difficult for our frugal, hard-core recycling group, packed the car, did a final sweep, stacked dirty sheets and towels and left the flowers we had picked for Gay and Chip on the windowsill in the kitchen.

Left for the airport at 8:30, half an hour earlier than we had expected, and got there around 10. Rental car returns went like clockwork, no problems, and we were in the airport with enough time to get tax refunds (quite a process), get something to eat, shop for last minutes, and hang out, with about an hour to spare before it was time to get on the plane.

The flight home was smooth, the food just as nasty as before, and we landed on a beautiful sunny day in Logan an hour early. Levin was there to pick up the Westport group and Pieter arrived from Vermont, tearing himself away from a perfect fall day, at around 3:15. Home by 5:45 to a wagging, vibrating Pumpkin, had a poached egg on toast, scanned the mail, read Hannah’s “novel” about house sitting, and was in bed by 8:00. Great to be home but missing Chip and Gay and Tim and Leila, our little family

A huge thanks to Gay for making this all happen.

Day 7

Day 7, Friday, October 8, 2010

I straggling into the kitchen at 7, past Piet sleeping fitfully on the couch, his feet hanging over the arm, and opened the door to the kitchen to find the rest of the gang up, dressed, and having brekky. This is Gay and Chip’s day to head south to Castle-something on the south coast to have dinner and an overnight with Gay’s cousin Mark and his wife. We decided to make a group trip to Bunratty Castle near Shannon for a last real outing together, and despite one lapse in following signs, pulled into the parking lot around 9:30 as it started to rain.

Climbed the six stories of narrow winding staircases of this fifteenth century castle up to the escarpment at the top where they dumped boiling oil on invaders. The people who last lived in it (18th c.?) abandoned it for a warmer more comfortable house in the village, a sensible move, taking everything with them and leaving the castle to the elements. The roof eventually fell in and it wasn’t until the 1960s that Lady somebody took it over and restored it, bringing in furniture and furnishings (tapestries, paintings, kitchen tools, etc.) from England, Belgium, and Germany. [Yikes! Just saw a wren in the bush outside the window where I’m typing this!].

We wandered the grounds, now made into a little village of thatched cottages and shops, some of the buildings moved in from the site of Shannon Airport. Chickens foraged for bugs in the lawns, a small flock of sheep browsed, two giant Irish elk hounds were curled up in the grass. There was a film crew from the Hallmark channel filming a Christmas holiday movie starring Jacqueline Bissette (Tim and Leila saw her having her make-up put on in the post office) so there were set people rushing around arranging shots. We had our picture taken with one of the gents decked out in period outfit and top hat. Had coffee and scones in the tea room, checked out the gift shop, and then said good-bye to Chip and Gay and headed home.

Usual naps and then we took off up into the hills to look for the peat digging operation Hettie told us about, minus Piet who didn’t feel up to it. Never found the place but discovered some wonderful side roads. Ended up in Ennistimon to shop for dinner, our last eat-in meal, and to upload the blog and check e-mail. Leila and I threw together a dinner of burgers, little new potatoes, salad, and a bowl of fresh blueberries and raspberries and had a nice dinner followed by a good read before the three of us went back to Doolin for another night of music. Piet opted to stay home and read.

McGann’s crowded to the gills with diners, so we decided to try McDermitt’s first. They had a football (soccer) match on the telly and a crowd of raucous lads cheering on Ireland, but it wasn’t crowded. We snagged a spot at a booth with a guy from Montana doing a semester of lab work in Dublin, with his Canadian girlfriend – they were camping in a tent near the pier in Doolin, a wild place to set up a tent. Also three Aussies on a month-long trek -- funny, interesting, interested in American politics. Once the game was over and things had died down the musicians began – a woman on flute and penny whistle, a guy on guitar and flute. After only 3 frantic pieces we decided to walk back to McGann’s to see what was going on and Geraldine (who we thought was “Josie”), the singer from Wednesday night, hailed us and found us a place to sit (table 2 right next to the musicians). Tim was elbow to elbow with the guy on banjo. He tried to get the trio on is video camera but it was too dark. Still it was amazing to be so close. As Leila said, McGann’s may be crowded but the intimacy it creates and the warmth of the musicians and the enthusiasm of the crowd all create an irresistible combination. McGann’s has become our place. A few singers from the American crowd on a music tour volunteered to fill in while Geraldine and co. were on break – spirited and fun. It all ended at 11 and we came home to find Piet wide awake. Bed at midnight, Piet again, stubbornly, on the couch.

Gay & Chip head for Castletownshend

Back to the Chip and Gay side trip. We left the group at Bunratty and headed south through Limerick to Cork on good roads where we get lost twice trying to follow the ring road around the city center – large sprawling industrial city – and finally made it to the southwest road down towards Skibbereen. Eventually we left the main route to make it down to the coast to see a stone circle –name escapes me – which we did. It was a circle of stones….from B.C. and a few mounds of other rocks in a farm field, one other couple staggered in for a look around. Left there on impossibly narrow windy roads and ended up in the little coastal village of Glandore, where we had a bowl of soup in a pub. This little hamlet perched on the hillside overlooking a tidal inlet is a center for yachting, and the yacht club was next to the pub. Left and got lost looking for the also small village of Castletownshend, where Gay’s cousin Mark lives. Eventually stumbled into town after about a 4 hour trip from Bunratty. The town is on a steep hill with old buildings lining each side, one store, one pub. At two big trees growing in the middle of the road, we went right and down to the water where Mark and Sarah Evans live (on weekends from London) in the old Coast Guard station called Rocket House because they used to fire lines out to approaching ships from the station to secure them at anchorage. Place nicely renovated with amazing views. Gay went for a walk with Sarah while Chip put his feet up for a bit. Eventually Mark returned from the gym and we all had tea, talked about everything, mostly the family, and Sarah cooked a nice dinner of fish and veggies. No internet or cell phones here in this retreat from Mark’s business world, but much talk of books and the world. Sarah has started a small school in London for kids at risk, and is preoccupied much of the time administering the Westside School in London. Kids (4) all away at school, three at Princeton, one in high school somewhere. After an early night and sound sleep we awoke to strong winds and driving rain, postponing our promised boat tour of the area. Had a nice breakfast, on this our 39th wedding anniversary, then went to the Lissard Estate gardens for a nice walk in sprinkling rain, culminating in a visit to the artwork/earth amphitheater, a large grass oval with two flat stones two people can lie on and look up at the “sky garden”? A worker named Patrick, a volunteer from the US, turned up and explained the whole weird installation and asked our opinion of the brush trimming strategy to preserve the artistic vision. Everyone had an opinion, of course. We finally hit the road at bout 11:30 made it back through Cork with out a problem and home in 4 hours to find the group chilling at the cottage. Leila left flowers for us in our room. We chilled for a bit and then headed off to Doolin and McGann’s for an anniversary dinner at a reserved table by the musicians, followed by Ted and group making music until we left about 11 and headed home to pack for return home. Stars were out by the time we pulled in to Ashgrove Cottage.

Day 6

Day 6, Thursday, October 7, 2010

Beautiful clear blue sky this morning with the promise of sun – no encroaching clouds, yet. I got up at 6:30, took a shower, made coffee, had my muesli and fruit and read. Chip second up. The others straggled in. Tim made bangers again, Leila scrambled eggs. And we planned our day.

This is our day to visit the cheese farm down the lane and then to explore points south. Most of us walked down to the farm, Chip and Leila driving so we could take off from there. Piet (the farmer – he’s Dutch), who moved here from Holland with his wife and 5 kids to find a bigger place to live in 1989 when houses were going for cheap, bought the farm and business lock, stock, and barrel, and after a couple of months’ apprenticeship under the previous owner, was on his own. His wife left him after a year, leaving him alone in the big house.

He was just cleaning his milk tank as we arrived. Every day he gets the morning milking’s from his neighbor’s cows (30 or 40 head), adds bacteria before he tanks it, and brings it home to begin cheese-making which results in something that looks like Swiss, and has the mild flavor of Gouda. He showed us the entire process from the beginning where he dumps the raw milk into a vat and adds the rennet (ordered every spring from Holland) and bacteria, the presses where the rounds are formed, the tanks where he soaks the rounds in brine, and the curing room where he paints on the protective (plastic) coat little by little. There they sit on shelves from floor to ceiling until they’re ready for market. Occasionally, when the bacteria is out of balance, a round may explode, literally. He had cross-sections of one that exploded and he cut off a wedge for Chip, no charge. We had some of it before dinner and it has a bite that his other stuff just doesn’t have but it was very good. We bought some of the smaller rounds of cheese – plain, pepper, garlic -- to take home and then he took us into his beautiful stone house to show us a picture of Mary Kate, the woman who used to own the cottage where we are staying. She lived there all her life, eventually taking care of both her parents until they died and then her brother, who had a bit of a drinking problem.

The entryway with tiled floor and high ceiling is well fitted out for farm life with a place for boots and jackets, but it’s inviting, with paintings and pictures on the walls, a staircase that sweeps up to the second floor. His kitchen is filled with light and seems to be the heart of the house – geraniums are in bloom on the window sills; there’s a comfy chair next to the Aga stove. A stone arch and tiled back-splash frame the kitchen sink, pictures of his family everywhere. His kids are grown up, all living in the area, except the youngest, who is “pursuing a woman in Belfast”; some have children, two in the building trade are out of work because of the terrible economy. Many people are fleeing Ireland again because things are so bad, and many houses have been foreclosed and lie empty, as at home. Our trip down the coast confirms this -- acres of new houses, many of them looking as if nobody lives there.

We made a trip to Lahinch so we could get golf hats for Ben and Pieter and Hano and then headed south along the coast to Spanish Point where we walked the beach. Tim examined tidal pools, where little mussels clustered in the crevasses, kelp all over the beach in piles, and acres of trash at the high tide mark, left there by the receding waters. Wonderful smooth gray rocks, some with white rings. Wandered down the coast to Quilty where we had a pub lunch of the usual vegetable soup which all seems to be the same no matter where you get it. Very nice family-run place. He encouraged us to go beyond to see the brand new Doogan golf complex. Marked by flags flying at the entryway, surrounded by condos, it sits high overlooking the sea and the course itself wanders all over the natural dunes. We parked and walked around, into the atrium around which the main building is built, and Chip bought a “course book” at the pro shop. Lots of Americans wandering around. Chip and Tim, in keeping with golf etiquette, whipped their hats off when we were inside.

Headed back home the direct route, stopping for Piet to take a picture of a cottage ruin, and to Liscannor to a gift shop to buy the last two of the cards of Mary Kate, the woman who lived in our cottage. The place had a “closed” sign on it but the door was open. They were doing inventory, about to close for the winter, but they let us come in and get the cards. Home for naps. Everyone but Piet and I went back down to Ennistymon where Tim put up the blog, Leila checked for e-mail, Chip wandered the main street and took pictures, and Gay went to a bakery and bought us apple strudel for dessert, a treat. Encountered the cows poised for their trek back to the barn, so Gay and Leila hopped out to walk back with them. Had stir-fry chicky and veg and rice and were all so pooped after dinner that we decided not to go to Doolin for music. The guys watched Papillon and the rest of us went to bed. Piet ended up sleeping on the couch at about 3 am because he couldn’t sleep in the bed.