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Red line shows the route we took around the coast of Ireland by car Starting in London by train, we visited Portsmouth and Bath, and took the boat-train to Dublin
(Last updated Nov. 14, 2011)
Exploring the Back Roads of the Emerald Isle
White-knuckle Driving, Friendly Pubs and Lovely Irish People
The “Emerald Isle” they call it, and not without reason because Ireland’s verdant landscape gives new meaning to the color green. And it doesn’t take long to work out why this beautiful little island is so green: it rains a lot. Some days it rains all of the time. But it doesn’t matter if you bear in mind that Ireland wouldn’t be so stunningly green if it didn’t rain so much. And besides, the gray skies over Eire are no match for the brightness and pleasantness of the Irish people, who are, quite simply, a lovable race. Our latest travels took us to Ireland simply because we had never been there before, and after a long career that entailed constant travel, and a 10-year retirement that has done little to diminish our wanderlust, we were beginning to run out of countries that we’ve never visited.
Our journey began Oct. 15 with a flight on Japan Airlines to Tokyo, where we overnighted and caught another JAL flight to London the next day.
It was actually 
a pleasant trip, largely because we flew business
class, having decided some time ago that we were getting too old for steerage
and that the well-worn adage that “you can’t take it with you” is true. Our
choice of accommodation in London also reflected that adage. We stayed for
seven nights (at the beginning and end of our Ireland trek) at London’s historic Savile Club. ished writers and
artists of the time and is loaded with paintings and artifacts that a good
museum would droll over. The place exudes English history. The Savile Club
members are friendly, as well, even to colonials like Alma and me (we were able
to get a room at the Savile because my beloved Melbourne Savage Club has a
reciprocal arrangement), and our huge room was actually competitive with most
good hotels in London, and certainly cost far less than you would expect to pay
for such trappings in the upscale Mayfair neighborhood.
While in London we visited our dear friends Trish and Chris Walker, whom we befriended more than 30
years ago in Jerusalem (Chris worked then for The Times). Chris and I had a
long, boozy lunch at the Savile Club one day, the four of us had another long,
boozy lunch at a Spanish tapas restaurant another day, and we all had a long,
boozy dinner at the Walker’s house on our last night in London. Alma and I also
did some touristy things. We had been to London several times years ago, but when
you are traveling with children sightseeing tends to focus on things like Madam
Tussaud’s Wax Museum, the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace and the
like. This time we did the things that grown-ups do, like the Tate museums,
British Museum, Victoria and Albert Museum, the War Cabinet Rooms at Whitehall
etc. We then caught a train to Portsmouth and overnighted there, because I had
a compelling need to see the HMS Victory, on which the legendary Lord Nelson
was killed during the Battle of Trafalgar on the 21st of October, 
1805. What a propitious day we chose to visit the
Victory, because without realizing it we made our Portsmouth visit on Oct. 21!
Anyway, Great Britain’s great naval history has always fascinated me, all the
more so after reading all 21 of Patrick O’Brien’s superb sea novels based on
the Napoleonic wars. From Portsmouth we traveled by train to Bath, where we stayed for two nights at the Three Abbey Green Guest House (photo at right),
which is in a wonderful, historic old building hard alongside the Roman baths.
Our main purpose of going to Bath was to visit our friend Geraldine, whom we
also hadn’t seen in more than 30 years. Although we had been there once before,
Geraldine showed us marvelous sights in Bath and the surrounding countryside
that we hadn’t seen before.
We then caught a train that meandered in and out of Wales until we reached Holyhead, the Welsh port city, and were told that all of the boat-train ferries to Dublin had been cancelled because of severe storms and flooding in the Irish capital. We ended up staying overnight in a funky little seaside hotel where the locals tanked up on Guinness every night. The next day we finally made it to Dublin and spent three days there seeing such must-see sights as the beautiful Trinity College, the Book of Kells, a masterpiece of medieval art created by Celtic monks circa 800 or earlier; the National Museum of Ireland; the Writers Museum and the James Joyce Centre (as a student in literature I struggled with Joyce’s Ulysses), the Kilmainham Gaol, which played such an important part in Ireland’s liberation history. My biggest waste of time in Dublin was visiting the Guinness brewery where, for 15 Euros, they subject tourists to a mind-numbing barrage of marketing and public relations rubbish and don’t let them see anything but a Disneyland-like museum in the shape of a seven-story pint of Guinness.
We then 
hired a car and began
our 10-day journey counter-clockwise around the coast of Ireland and Northern Ireland. Both the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland have narrow, winding
roads that make for lots of white-knuckle driving. Imagine a road just barely
wide enough for two cars to pass each other in opposite directions (provided both
of them folded their side-view mirrors inward). Then imagine hedgerows on both
sides that leave no place to go. Finally, imagine a 10-ton truck driven by a
maniac careening down the road toward you. That’s what I mean by white-knuckle
driving. On one occasion I drove our diesel Ford Focus off the road to avoid
getting cleaned up by a truck and blew a tire apart when I hit a deep pothole.
Insurance offered by car hire firms in Ireland don’t cover tires,
unsurprisingly. But we were determined to stay off the few expressways or
dual-carriage highways that Ireland has and concentrate mainly on the back
roads that go through beautiful little villages with great pubs and virtually
no tourists (there aren’t that many tourists anyway in October and November).
In Belfast, we made contact with Big Jim McVeigh, a Catholic cab driver who used to look
after Chris Walker during “the Troubles,” and Jim was pure gold. He’s a very
savvy guy and his knowledge of the history of Ireland, and particularly the six
counties that make up Northern Ireland) was invaluable to use. We visited the
cemetery where icons of the Irish Republican Army and other fighting groups,
including Bobby Sands, are buried. We toured the (Catholic) Falls Road and the
(Protestant) Shankill Road, where so many died before fragile peace finally
came to Northern Ireland. The Wall is still there, an enormously high structure
separating the sectarian enemies, and the backyards of houses abutting the wall
are 
enclosed in wire mesh to deflect firebombs, creating a grotesque
cage in which the occupants live. On the republican side, murals depicting the
heroes of the Catholic fighting forces abound, along with the Irish tricolor
flag (photo at right), and on the Protestant side the British Union Jack flies on
virtually every street corner. Jim explains it all to us, from the Catholic
perspective, of course, and eventually we depart Belfast feeling sad for what
these people, on both sides of the wall, have had to endure. It reminds me in
some ways of Beirut, and the sectarian hatred there. But if you think about it,
most wars throughout history involve sectarian hatred in one way or another.
Seeing Belfast and listening to Jim McVeigh didn’t exactly turn this heathen
into a God-fearing believer. But Alma and I were both glad to have seen Belfast, even if in only a fleeting way. And we pressed on with our journey, driving to
the northern coast to view the strange rock formations created by earthquakes
and glacial movements thousands of years ago at what is called the “Giant’s
Causeway.” From there we drove to what Irish republicans call Derry and
loyalist Orangemen call Londonderry, and thence crossed back from the United Kingdom to the Republic of Ireland. We overnighted in Bundoran, just south of Donegal, in a
once-elegant golfing resort (like Scotland, Ireland is loaded with famous golf
courses) that now is an overpriced and gone-to-seed hotel.
From there we drove south along Ireland’s west coast to the Port City of Galway, where we stayed overnight, and then visited the
spectacular Cliffs of Moher, which rival the white cliffs of Dover for their
beauty. We took the Shannon ferry across the estuary between County Killimer
and County Kerry, and stayed overnight in the quaint little town of Listowel
before setting off for Killarney, where we stayed two nights in the Eviston
House Hotel which we used as a base to drive around the Dingle Peninsula one
day and the famous “Ring of Kerry” route the next. Both peninsulas jut out into
the Atlantic, and each have 
mountainous routes along narrow, winding roads that
provide lots of white-knuckle driving. It was near Dingle where we blew the
tire and spent a couple of hours getting a new one. The Ring of Kerry also had
spectacular views of the rugged coastline, and even though it bucketed rain all
day the weather could not diminish the beauty of the place. While in Killarney
we listened to two hours of uninterrupted Irish folk songs by a talented young
singer in the Danny Mann singing pub (photo at left). From Killarney we drove
to Cork, where we stayed overnight, saw the sights and then moved on to
Kilkenny, where the main attraction is a wonderful old castle originally built
by Richard de Clare, 2nd Earl of Pembroke, commonly known as Strongbow, in the
12th century. Castles are very popular with tourists in Ireland. We saw two of the three top-rated castles in the country, but like cathedrals
there’s a limit to how many you can see in a few days without your eyes glazing
over. But the Kilkenny castle was eye-opening because it had been restored so
beautifully to reflect all of the improvements and modifications that were made
by the Butler dynasty of Anglo-Normans—the Earls, Marquises and Dukes of
Ormonde—who lived in the castle until 1935, when they started feeling a bit
uncomfortable about the Irish republican uprisings and retreated to their other
castles in England.
From Kilkenny we drove back to Dublin, boarded the ferry back to Wales and headed back to London by train. Yes, it was an exhausting drive about, all the more so because of the tense maneuvering on narrow, winding country roads. But the fact is that’s the only way to see the real Ireland, in my view. It’s a beautiful, friendly and happy country, in spite of its devastating economic downturn following the boom years that they wistfully call the “Celtic Tiger.” As they did during the potato famine of 1845-1852, thousands of Irish workers have emigrated to Great Britain, the United States, Canada and Australia in search of work. The Irish Diaspora, which includes Irish citizens who have emigrated abroad and their children and grandchildren (who are Irish citizens by descent under Irish law), has more than 80 million people, or more than thirteen times the population of the island of Ireland itself (6.4 million). It’s sad to hear the stories of families torn apart because of this outflow of young people. But the Irish are durable people, and they have been able to maintain a wonderfully warm and witty countenance through all of the hard times. For Alma and I it was delight to be among them and meet them, and to see some of their beautiful country.
Following are some photos I took along the way:
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Room # 1 of the Savile Club in London, where we stayed |
Savile Club, 69 Brook St., Mayfair, London—nice digs |
The Morning Room of London’s Savile Club in London, where gentlemen read their Financial Times and, later, have high tea. A lovely setting, indeed. |
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H.M.S. Victory, on which Lord Nelson died during the Battle of Trafalgar |
Guns aboard H.M.S. Warrior in Portsmouth Harbor |
River Avon in Bath, where we visited friend Geraldine |
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Bath, one of the loveliest cities in England |
Friend Geraldine and Alma at Geraldine’s Garden Flat |
Henrietta Street, Bath |
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The 14 Century Tithe Barn in Bradford-on-Avon, used to collect taxes in produce to fund the church |
11th Century Church in Bradford-on-Avon, near Bath. It’s still in use
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Historic Bradford-on-Avon |
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So-called “Modern Wing” of Dublin’s Kilmainham Gaol, where Irish nationalists were held during the uprisings |
The execution wall in Kilmainham’s Stonebreaker Yard, where 14 rebels of the 1916 uprisings were executed |
“Let me out of here!,” says Bill during a visit to Dublin’s notorious Kilmainham Gaol |
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Irish “Jonathon Swift” ferry: 2 ½ hours from Holyhead, Wales, to Dublin Port. The writer Swift was Irish |
Trinity College in Dublin—a grand, old university |
The Book of Kells, a masterpiece of Medieval art. In the tourist season there are long queues and you are lucky to get even a quick glance at the book. In November we had the room to ourselves. |
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Spectacular Long Room of Trinity College Library |
At the James Joyce Centre: As a callow youth I struggled to understand his epochal "Ulysses" but as a college English literature major I had to persist regardless |
Posing for a Silly Photo Op at the James Joyce Centre |
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Dublin’s historic Gresham Hotel, where we stayed |
Alma on the River Liffey, in Dublin |
Alma and our guide extraordinaire, Jim McVeigh, at Belfast cemetery monument to IRA martyrs |
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One of Belfast’s countless murals of IRA fighters who died during the Northern Ireland city’s “Troubles” |
Another mural in Catholic sector, The Falls |
“The Wall” separating Catholic Falls Road and Protestant Shankill Road in divided Belfast. Note the wire cage over the house’s backyard to deflect firebombs. While there’s peace, it’s an uneasy one |
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Another view of The Wall dividing Belfast |
Bobby Sands mural
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Loyalist-Protestant mural in Shankill
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Alma riding shuttle bus from cliff top to base of the Giant's Causeway in Northern Ireland
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Strange formation of rocks from glacial movement |
The rugged cliffs of Northern Ireland
Strange rock pillars at the Giant’s Causeway |
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Castle ruins along the route from Derry back into the Irish Republic. These are a dime a dozen in Ireland |
The Great Northern Hotel, once elegant and now very tired, mismanaged and outrageously overpriced |
Drumcliff Church, where William Butler Yeats is buried. We were just driving along and there it was
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Medieval Abbey in Sligo, on west coast of Ireland |
The Meyrick Hotel, Galway, where we stayed |
The Occupy Wall Street protest has spread to Galway |
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Alma having an Irish coffee in a Galway pub |
Halloween is very big in Ireland (and why not, it originated as a Celtic observance) |
We arrived at Galway's Meyrick Hotel just before Michael Higgens, who had been elected President of Ireland, returned to his home town to a tumultuous reception in Eire Square, in front of our hotel.
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Bill in Skeff's pub in Galway
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They don’t call Ireland the “Emerald Isle” for nothing |
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The rolling hills of Ireland’s west coast |
Ancient stone fences delineate Irish farm fields |
The famous Cliffs of Moher on Ireland’s west coast |
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A rainy day at Ireland’s Moher Cliffs |
Cliffs of Moher |
The Shannon Ferry crossing the estuary between County Killimer and County Kerry |
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Flying Boat-They used to fly from New York to Newfoundland and landed at Foynes, Ireland. We had a look at the museum there.
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Driving around the beautiful Dingle peninsula, we encountered this rainbow. |
From atop a mountain on Dingle peninsula |
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A Valley in Dingle peninsula |
A kite skier in the cold Atlantic Ocean off Dingle |
The rain didn't deter us from enjoying spectacular scenery along the southern coast of Ireland |
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The circular route around the Kerry peninsula took five hours and included beach villages like this |
Farm plots on Kerry peninsula marked by stone fences |
Alma trying to stay dry in our hire car |
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Brightly colored houses in County Kerry |
Along the “Ring of Kerry” scenic route |
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A very, very old house--or gatehouse--on the road to Kinsale. Alma shouted “stop!” |
Kinsale, south of Cork City |
No matter where you go in Ireland, it seems, a castle appears. This one in Kinsale was the Desmond Castle, built c. 1500 |
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The Charles Fort, built in 1600s by the English to defend the strategically important port of Kinsale |
Charles Fort ruins, with cows in the background |
Cork City: Turn a corner and out pops a cathedral
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The River Lee in Cork City |
Cork Harbor |
Shandon Hill arts precinct in Cork City |
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The old Women’s Gaol in Cork City |
Cork: a bridge built in the 1600s |
Cahir Castle, 900 years old but renovated from time to time by various owners through the ages |
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Cahir Castle is one of the three top-rated castles in Ireland. Another is Kilkenny Castle, which we visited right after seeing Cahir Castle
Kilkenny
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Alma checks out castle security |
Pulleys to raise the gate to the castle
The Cahir Castle’s Great Room |
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Walls of Kilkenny Castle just across stream from our hotel |
Kilkenny |
Approach to Kilkenny Castle, originally built in 1195 by Richard de Clare, 2d Earl of Pembroke, commonly known as "Strongbow,” it was modified over the years by his descendants in the Butler dynasty of Anglo-Normans |
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The grand Portrait Hall of Kilkenny Castle. |
The grounds of Kilkenny Castle |
The back of Kilkenny Castle |
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The River Court Hotel, Kilkenny, where we stayed. It was just across a stream from the Kilkenny Castle |
Back in Dublin, Bill has a half pint of Guinness after touring the “brewery,” which actually was a Disneyland –like museum used as a marketing and P.R. tool |
Dublin’s skyline |
Out of nowhere, these old
ruins pop up as we drive by. No sign identifying what this used to be.
