11-18-2019, 04:44 PM
Day 9- Inis Mór to Galway to Athlone
I booked a late ferry so we could spend some more time looking around the island. Well, the choices were either 8:30am or 5:00pm. I went for later.
I also wanted there to be good weather. I want so many things. At least when we set out for the Black Fort, it wasn’t raining.
The Black Fort or Dún Dúcathair was sort of within walking distance from the B&B. According to Geraldine it was only about 30 minutes walk. We figured to get there by sunrise and then back to the Seacrest for our breakfast.
It was a nice walk on the paved road. It became less nice on the gravel. It became worse when the gravel turned to rocks. The road ended at a sign that pointed in the general direction of the fort. We climbed a stone wall and made our way through the fields, fields copiously dotted with rocks and slabs.
Basically, you had to walk through the fields until you found the fort. Much like in 2011 when we visited, racing through the rain and wind, we came out of the fields to the cliff edge one peninsula short of the actual fort. This afforded us the chances to take some pictures of the deep blue ocean and the waves crashing into the cove.
Fortunately, it wasn’t pouring like it was in 2011. Even the sun popped out for a brief illumination of the surrounding fields. Since it was early, cold, and dark, the Queen and I were the only ones at the Black Fort. If it was a little bit warmer and sunnier, we probably would have spent a lot more time. Although, I did delay our departure somewhat because the sun kept threatening to break the cloud cover. I know this, though. The sun is a tease.
The walk back to the road was somewhat more problematical. When walking towards the fort, you knew you could just walk towards the ocean and then make a left or right turn to find it. The trail back to road led through a wilderness of walls and rocks and grass that all looked the same. We kind of stumbled around until I spotted the sign marker that led us in in the first place.
Geraldine, our host at the Seacrest, was kind enough to cook us breakfast when we got back to the B&B, despite the fact we were minutes away from when she told us breakfast service would be ending.
After breakfast, the Queen opted not to go on another two hour hike to the ends of the island to see Teaglach Éinne or the Church of St. Enda. It might have something to do with it threatening to rain any second. So, I walked and she rested.
It was a long walk. If I was younger and more foolish, I would have tried to make it to the Blow holes as well. But while I was looking at the sunken church of St. Enda, the sprinkles started. I didn’t want to spend an hour walking back to the Seacrest in the rain. That’s my excuse. I’m sticking to it.
At one point during the walk, I thought I was going to have a repeat of the Queen’s and I’s experience on Inis Oer when a dog followed us for most of our journey. When I walked by Cockel Strand, a black dog found me and started to follow me. Fortunately, he was only with me for a mile or so before he found better things to do.
The Queen and I had lunch in the pub at the Bar. Why you would name a bar The Bar is above my pay grade.
Our ferry back to Rossaveal left at 5pm with the rain picking up.
If you remember back to almost yesterday of this journey, we were originally supposed to take our boat from Doolin which is south of Galway. Rossaveal is northwest of Galway. When I planned this part of the trip, I figured we were going to give Galway a miss. And since we were missing Galway, I wasn’t going to be able say hi to my Scottish storytelling friend, Rab Fulton. I met Rab back in 2009 when I was in Galway with my father and Zachary. I saw a flyer promoting Irish Folktales at the Cottage Bar in Salt Hill, a region of Galway. There were about 8 people in attendance in this tiny room in the pub. Rab was the storyteller and it was quite entertaining. When the Queen and I visited in 2011, we saw him again. Since then we’ve stayed in touch on Facebook.
Because of the ferry snafu, I now realized I would be going through Galway right by the Crane Bar where Rab had moved his performance space. It was also going to be on Halloween night. Who wouldn’t want to hear Irish Ghost stories on Halloween?
The other thing to consider was that I wasn’t spending the night in Galway. Our stop for the evening was Athlone which is an hour east of Galway. Smart minds would have blown of Rab, especially after a day of hiking in the rain and gone straight to Athlone. Smart minds.
We raced from Rossaveal to Galway. We also needed to get some food in us before the show. It rained the whole way and the driver in front of us made sure to go extra slow for safety.
We had dinner at the Mona Liaa Italian restaurant across from the Crane Bar. We looked up the menu online and determined we each would have 12” pepperoni pizza, because 12” was about a personal size right.
They must not have had a ruler in the kitchen, because the pizzas were closer to 16 than 12. But they were good and disappeared quickly.
We made it to the Crane Bar with plenty of time to spare. We bumped into Rab at the base of the stairs and took us up before they let in the regular crowd. We had good two or three minutes of conversation with Rab before it was show time.
The show was really good. Rab has grown tremendously as an artist. When we first saw him, he told interesting stories. Now, his stories are still interesting, but he tells them really well. A testament to that is that the Crane Bar was standing room only. The Queen and I were probably the oldest people in the room. And everybody seemed to have a great time.
He told two stories and did on audience participation piece at the end. The first story about Reverend Solace was really good. The second story about Lord Solace was okay and seemed to steal from Macbeth. The audience participation with a wolf, a skunk, a porcupine and a box with cake in it was just fun.
We had no time after the show to talk to Rab except for a brief selfie. We had to be in Athlone by 11 before our B&B closed for the night and it was already 9:30.
We drove a bit fast. Google was our friend although it seemed to be taking us through worse and worse neighborhoods to get to our accomodations. I feared that I was finally going to come up poorly on internet hotel choices. But we turned a final corner and came upon a really nice B&B, the Shannonside. It was a like a stately old home. It was also the least expensive place we stayed.
Our host was still awake when we arrived. He showed us to our room. We promptly went to sleep.
I booked a late ferry so we could spend some more time looking around the island. Well, the choices were either 8:30am or 5:00pm. I went for later.
I also wanted there to be good weather. I want so many things. At least when we set out for the Black Fort, it wasn’t raining.
The Black Fort or Dún Dúcathair was sort of within walking distance from the B&B. According to Geraldine it was only about 30 minutes walk. We figured to get there by sunrise and then back to the Seacrest for our breakfast.
It was a nice walk on the paved road. It became less nice on the gravel. It became worse when the gravel turned to rocks. The road ended at a sign that pointed in the general direction of the fort. We climbed a stone wall and made our way through the fields, fields copiously dotted with rocks and slabs.
Basically, you had to walk through the fields until you found the fort. Much like in 2011 when we visited, racing through the rain and wind, we came out of the fields to the cliff edge one peninsula short of the actual fort. This afforded us the chances to take some pictures of the deep blue ocean and the waves crashing into the cove.
Fortunately, it wasn’t pouring like it was in 2011. Even the sun popped out for a brief illumination of the surrounding fields. Since it was early, cold, and dark, the Queen and I were the only ones at the Black Fort. If it was a little bit warmer and sunnier, we probably would have spent a lot more time. Although, I did delay our departure somewhat because the sun kept threatening to break the cloud cover. I know this, though. The sun is a tease.
The walk back to the road was somewhat more problematical. When walking towards the fort, you knew you could just walk towards the ocean and then make a left or right turn to find it. The trail back to road led through a wilderness of walls and rocks and grass that all looked the same. We kind of stumbled around until I spotted the sign marker that led us in in the first place.
Geraldine, our host at the Seacrest, was kind enough to cook us breakfast when we got back to the B&B, despite the fact we were minutes away from when she told us breakfast service would be ending.
After breakfast, the Queen opted not to go on another two hour hike to the ends of the island to see Teaglach Éinne or the Church of St. Enda. It might have something to do with it threatening to rain any second. So, I walked and she rested.
It was a long walk. If I was younger and more foolish, I would have tried to make it to the Blow holes as well. But while I was looking at the sunken church of St. Enda, the sprinkles started. I didn’t want to spend an hour walking back to the Seacrest in the rain. That’s my excuse. I’m sticking to it.
At one point during the walk, I thought I was going to have a repeat of the Queen’s and I’s experience on Inis Oer when a dog followed us for most of our journey. When I walked by Cockel Strand, a black dog found me and started to follow me. Fortunately, he was only with me for a mile or so before he found better things to do.
The Queen and I had lunch in the pub at the Bar. Why you would name a bar The Bar is above my pay grade.
Our ferry back to Rossaveal left at 5pm with the rain picking up.
If you remember back to almost yesterday of this journey, we were originally supposed to take our boat from Doolin which is south of Galway. Rossaveal is northwest of Galway. When I planned this part of the trip, I figured we were going to give Galway a miss. And since we were missing Galway, I wasn’t going to be able say hi to my Scottish storytelling friend, Rab Fulton. I met Rab back in 2009 when I was in Galway with my father and Zachary. I saw a flyer promoting Irish Folktales at the Cottage Bar in Salt Hill, a region of Galway. There were about 8 people in attendance in this tiny room in the pub. Rab was the storyteller and it was quite entertaining. When the Queen and I visited in 2011, we saw him again. Since then we’ve stayed in touch on Facebook.
Because of the ferry snafu, I now realized I would be going through Galway right by the Crane Bar where Rab had moved his performance space. It was also going to be on Halloween night. Who wouldn’t want to hear Irish Ghost stories on Halloween?
The other thing to consider was that I wasn’t spending the night in Galway. Our stop for the evening was Athlone which is an hour east of Galway. Smart minds would have blown of Rab, especially after a day of hiking in the rain and gone straight to Athlone. Smart minds.
We raced from Rossaveal to Galway. We also needed to get some food in us before the show. It rained the whole way and the driver in front of us made sure to go extra slow for safety.
We had dinner at the Mona Liaa Italian restaurant across from the Crane Bar. We looked up the menu online and determined we each would have 12” pepperoni pizza, because 12” was about a personal size right.
They must not have had a ruler in the kitchen, because the pizzas were closer to 16 than 12. But they were good and disappeared quickly.
We made it to the Crane Bar with plenty of time to spare. We bumped into Rab at the base of the stairs and took us up before they let in the regular crowd. We had good two or three minutes of conversation with Rab before it was show time.
The show was really good. Rab has grown tremendously as an artist. When we first saw him, he told interesting stories. Now, his stories are still interesting, but he tells them really well. A testament to that is that the Crane Bar was standing room only. The Queen and I were probably the oldest people in the room. And everybody seemed to have a great time.
He told two stories and did on audience participation piece at the end. The first story about Reverend Solace was really good. The second story about Lord Solace was okay and seemed to steal from Macbeth. The audience participation with a wolf, a skunk, a porcupine and a box with cake in it was just fun.
We had no time after the show to talk to Rab except for a brief selfie. We had to be in Athlone by 11 before our B&B closed for the night and it was already 9:30.
We drove a bit fast. Google was our friend although it seemed to be taking us through worse and worse neighborhoods to get to our accomodations. I feared that I was finally going to come up poorly on internet hotel choices. But we turned a final corner and came upon a really nice B&B, the Shannonside. It was a like a stately old home. It was also the least expensive place we stayed.
Our host was still awake when we arrived. He showed us to our room. We promptly went to sleep.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm