





View of Lake Atitlan, a volcano and a cemetery

Sunset over Lake Peten

Our bedroom at the Five Sisters Lodge in Belize

Larry naps in Belize
Family, Travels, and Free Commentary
Staigue Fort, an ancient round fort built around 1000 B.C. is outstanding. Again, we wish we could really see what it was like – all those people living in or around a huge stone ring. Now it’s home to sheep.
Derrynane, home of Daniel O’Connell has been maintained reverently and is worth the stop. He loved to come home from Dublin even though it took 6 days in the 1800’s.
The major views are seascapes only a painter could really appreciate – so many greens and blues. And the ruined cottages abandoned during the ‘famine years’ (mid-1840’s) add to the mystique.
On our return trip we drive through the supposedly incredibly scenic Gap of Dunloe in the stunning Killarney National Park; we’ll have to wait to the next day to see it; the fog is thick, terrifying thick – the roads are narrow and we know there are buses out there – buses too wide for their lane. But we make it.
On our way to Limerick we have to stop at Muckross House & Garden. It’s related to Filoli House in the Bay Area and the Grass Valley cottage all owned by the Bourne Family who made their money at the Empire Gold Mine in Grass Valley. Muckross House is elegant; Queen Victoria spent the night. In fact, her stay drove the owners into bankruptcy from the adjustments they made to the house for her stay. So the Bourne Family got a good deal on the 11,000 acres plus house plus garden, plus outstanding view of Lake Killarney. Ah, life and wealth before income taxes. The area became Ireland’s first national park.
In Limerick, another ancient Viking settlement, is a large commercial city. We stay long enough to climb all King John’s Castle dated from 1210 when King John ordered a strong castle built here. They built it strong. King John was also the king that signed the Magna Carta. He was not a nice man.
Before the day is through we visit Bunratty Castle and Folk Park. The castle has been carefully restored and is fun to climb around. We can’t imagine climbing up and down those towers; the stairways are skinny. And in the heat of battle it must have been claustrophobically loud. The Folk Park consists of authentic thatched cottages, farmhouses, and even a village. Peasant life must have been hard with little reward.
On our way to Galway we drive up into The Burren, an absolutely barren rock covered area. Cromwell stated, “not enough tree to hang a man, not enough ground to bury him.” Cromwell, a most hated Englishman, was not a nice man. He destroyed so much in the name of
power; some Irish spit when they have to say his name. Another stunning sight are the Cliffs of Moher.
The Connemara area defines rugged beauty, vast boggy moors interspersed by mountains all leading down to the sea and Killary fjord, the only fjord in the British Isles. (Fjord is defined as a narrow inlet of the sea between cliffs or steep slopes.) I could spend eternity here totally at peace.
Returning to our B&B on Galway Bay we pass through Cong, supposedly the site of The Quiet Man. The town has commercialized itself so much around 'the movie', we ignore that sales pitch and instead tour the beautiful little ruined abbey here.
Before reaching Donegal we tour Carrowmore Megalithic Cemetery with its passage graves estimated to be 7,400 years old. Aligned with many hills in the surrounding area it was an important prehistoric burial area estimated to have 100-200 passage graves. It sets us up nicely for the much younger and larger Newgrange Cemetery closer to Dublin.
Donegal was one place we had not arranged prior sleeping arrangements; we almost had to leave. But we finally found one that was a perfect location – we could stroll to town and through a ruined abbey and the shared bathroom was right across the hall but no one else was around to use it. Not minding a quick dash across the hall in our jammies, it was all right. And the view of Donegal Bay was lovely.
We probably could have found one with our bath if we hadn’t dawdled at the Belleek Pottery factory. Crossing the border into Northern Ireland was a non-event, there wasn’t even a sign. Larry chose a beautiful ivy-covered vase and I selected the matching candlesticks.
After spending the night in Donegal we return to Northern Ireland stopping at the Ulster Folk Park with more examples of authentic cottages; one we won’t forget – the livestock were kept right in the house.
The only thing separating them from the 10’x10’ living area was a trough. For once I don’t want to imagine their lives. This park was partially funded by the Mellon family; Thomas Mellon, the father of Andrew Mellow, was born here in 1813. The emigration exhibits and full scale emigrant ship were worth the stop. They are proud of the contributions made by many Northern Irish.
We start to have intermittent rain. Before this I was sure we had a guardian angel keeping us safe and dry, but not here. What I think: About 100 years ago my McVicker great grandparents returned from America only to find that, in their words, they were cheated out of the family farm and had to return to America. I think they’re still angry and resentful. If they’re not happy, no one will be.
Our B&B is over the pub; we eat all meals here; it’s the best place in town; in fact, the only place in town. One night we wait patiently for the music to start; traditional music – traditional for Nashville that is. Do they really know what an Okie from Muskogee is? We enjoyed our Guinness anyway.
Northern Ireland has an enigmatic peacefulness that seeps into you, almost makes me hold my breath like I’m waiting for something. The fighting that occurred here seems sinful, but all that seems to be in the past now.
Instead of the stone walls of the south, the fields are divided by hedgerows and wood fences. Locals are more British; they do fly the Union Jack.
It’s raining; let’s go do the Bushmill Distillery tour. They ask for 4 volunteer tasters. No one raises their hand. I’m not shy; free whiskey. I am now a certified Irish whiskey taster and have the certificate to prove it. Amazing how a little whiskey can go to your head.
We almost had to cancel seeing the Giant’s Causeway; the rain was in buckets. But we waited 2 hours and were rewarded. The Causeway consists of roughly 40,000 basalt columns that extend 3 miles along the coast. These hexagonal stepping stone were formed 60-70 million years ago by volcanic eruption. According to folklore it was formed by giants as a walkway to the Hebrides in Scotland. One giant, Finn MacCool, used it as a highway to his girlfriend. Well, her other boyfriend didn’t like that. So he came calling to do Finn harm. But Finn’s wife after she forgave him, dressed him up like a baby. When the Scotsman came, she told him Finn was out, but please don’t wake her baby. When he saw the size of the baby, he just knew Finn must be huge, so he went home. Fun story and fun place to climb over.
Dunluce Castle just down the road was a very sophisticated castle started around 1305. In 1639 part of the castle fell into sea taking several servants with it, also scaring the wife back to the city.
After 3 days of rain we decide to return to the Republic after touring Carrickfergus Castle outside Belfast. Belfast is a modern industrial city with no hint of “The Troubles”. Carrickfergus Castle an imposing Norman fortress has been carefully restored with amusing mannequins placed around simulating actual soldiers.
Staying in Navan we tour Newgrange, a huge 5,000 year old megalithic cemetery, Trim Castle, a 12th century Norman Castle, the Hill of Tara, meeting place of Ireland’s high kings. On the top of the Hill is a stone. If you touch the stone and it says your name, you’re the King of Ireland. Larry refused the crown. We were thwarted from visiting Slane Castle; it was being prepared for a concert by Madonna.
Back in Dublin we bus into town and enjoy one more evening in the Temple Bar area this time with a little music. Sitting in the window enjoying our Guinness some tourists ask to take our picture. We think we’ve been in Ireland too long. Tomorrow we head for Scotland.
After an easy RyanAir flight into Aberdeen, we drive to Inverness, but not before wondering if the manual shift Peugeot will be too difficult to drive, but again Larry comes through. The country side is neat and orderly reminding us greatly of Wisconsin farmland. In Inverness we drive around for an hour trying to locate our hotel, the Travel Inn. We passed it once, but couldn’t figure out how to get to it. We ask instructions which get us to the correct area, but need further help to finally get there. The Travel Inn is a formula-built chain, all the same. We stay in 3 around Scotland and find the familiarity settling.
We’re only here for a few days; we have to limit our touring. We stop at Cawdor Castle, now an elegant residence of the Dowager, Countess of Cawdor.
We feel a little ripped off at Culloden; too expensive for the little info you get. This battlefield was the last stand of Bonny Prince Charles in 1746. How this dandy convinced the Highlanders to follow him is beyond me; he was a poor leader. Culloden has not been properly documented for the visitor; it’s a big boggy moor with a few signs. This important battle had a horrendous impact on the highlanders. The Duke had all the wounded killed by bayonet, sword or pistol, even hunting them down in neighbor houses, where they were not only killed, but had their heads bashed in. Afterwards the carrying of arms was banned by the government punishable by death. The wearing of the tartan and even the playing of bagpipes were made illegal.
Charles escaped with the help of a woman, Flora MacDonald who dressed him up as her maidservant. Her thanks from him: imprisonment in an English jail. He died in exile in Rome a debauched drunk.
Driving to Fort Williams we drive along Loch Ness and didn’t see one hair of the fabled beast. We did explore Urquhart Castle, a dramatic ruin on the Loch.
There I bought a book on Highland clans. This is what I learned about the McVicker clan. They were aligned with the larger MacNaughton clan. The progenitor of this ancient clan is alleged to be Nachtan Mor who lived about the 10th century. The clan is supposed to be one of those transferred from the province of Moray to the crown lands in Strathtay by Malcolm IV. About a century later they possessed lands bordering on Loch Awe and Loch Fyne, and in 1267 Gilchrist MacNaughtan and his heirs were appointed by Alexander III keepers of the Castle of Fraoch Eilean in Loch Awe. The MacNaughtans also held the castles of Dubh-Loch in Glen Shira, and Dunderave on Loch Fyne. Donald MacNaughtan opposed Bruce and lost most of his possessions, but in the reign of David II the fortunes of the MacNaughtans were somewhat restored by the grant of lands in Lewis. Alexander, chief of the clan, who was knighted by James IV of Scotland, was killed at the Battle of Flodden in 1513 along with 5000 others including King James. The MacNaughtans remained loyal to the Stewarts and after the Restoration the chief, Alexander, was knighted by Charles II. His son John fought at Killiecrankie in 1698. The estates passed out of the family about 1691, having been forfeited to the crown. At a meeting of the clan held in 1878 it was resolved that Sir Francis E. MacNaughten of Dunderawe, Bushmills, Ireland, was the lineal descendant of the family of the chief through Shane Dubh, the grandson of Sir Alexander MacNaughtan who fell at Flodden, and who went to Ireland in 1580. I presume some McVickers went too because that’s where they were.
The MacNaughton clan is associated with the Campbell clan. Now one side of that clan sided with the Bonnie Prince, one side went with the Jacobites. Since MacNaughtons had left almost 200 years before this battle; which side would they have taken? Since they split for Ireland, one can only presume it was to escape English rule.
Further McVicker info: In Inverary on Loch Fyne we toured an old jail. On one poster. It stated: Katherine N’Viccar having abandoned and shaken off all fear of God did commit the horride crime of self murder by putting violent hands on herself and did hang herself. The said Justice depute ordained the said procurator fiscall to remove and secure a third of the moveable goods and gear in her husband’s possession. Inverary 1679.
On our last full day in Scotland we drove through the truly breathtaking Glen Coe. I wonder if the sun every shines here; it seems gloomy, it’s name in Gaelic meaning weeping valley. But its beauty is almost too splendid to breathe in. The movies shot here have been several of the Harry Potter movies, Rob Roy, Braveheart, and Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I would just like to hike it, but we have no time. Too bad we have to rush through so many places. And as much as we might promise ourselves, we probably won’t return except in our memories.
Finally, the last day away from home is here, a quick flight back to Dublin and then a much longer 10-hour flight to LAX. Over Washington the flight attendant makes an announcement, “Is there a doctor on board?” Curious but selfish we look at each other and hope we’re not going to be diverted to Seattle or Portland. Instead she’s okay, but it does cause the pilot to hotfoot it to Los Angeles getting us in almost 30 minutes early. And we need this time since I dumbly scheduled this flight on a Friday before the 3-day Labor Day weekend. How bad will the traffic be? Not too bad, we manage to get home in 3 hours. We’re still on Ireland time and go to bed immediately and wake up at 3:00 a.m. ready to hit the road. But we finally adjust and settle in.
So much to see, not enough time, maybe we can return sometime.
Some trivia learned from our trip:
A skeleton of a Viking had really long legs; they were very tall compared to the locals and they were red-headed. Lots of locals now with red-hair and freckles.
Some interesting road signs:
-Loose chippings = loose gravel.
-Speed calming ahead = speed zone ahead.
-Acute bends = sharp curves.
-Camera on sign doesn’t mean vista point.
Gasoline costs about $6.00 a gallon after the conversion.
Roads are narrow. They drive too fast. We almost are killed by one careless driver.
Police in the Republic are called Garda. What does that mean?
None of our B&B’s had washcloths. Nor any tissue (other than the toilet kind).
There are only 4-5 TV stations.
Larry adroitly takes to driving on the left side. Only several times did I have to say, “You’re on the wrong side of the road”.
Plumbing is fascinating if plumbing can be fascinating. All toilets flusher handle is on the right side (looking at it). Hot water for a shower is obtained by pushing buttons, flipping switches or turning a inexplicable middle valve. In one place we had to keep our keycard in a slot to keep the electricity on.
And in Scotland we had to ask for a top sheet. They provide duvets. Would someone tell the Scots; it’s not that cold.