rootless

I don’t know about you but in the past, whenever I have thought about Ireland, I pictured a small country with small things.  Things like villages with diminutive cottages, leprechauns and wee fairies.   However, after visiting Connemara in the west, my vision of a “small country” is changed.  For as you gaze out on the vast fields of peat and the rugged hills overlooking what seems like endless rivers, there is nothing small in what you see and  

the rush that comes with wide open spaces and the cool wind tickling your senses makes you feel big and wild; almost as wild as the countryside looks.

 

                   below:  we pose on the bridge used in the film The Quiet Man 

It is easy to understand how this land has evoked such pride and loyalty as well as the myriad of fanciful conjuring its people have created over the centuries to explain the wonders of nature and the mysteries of their own humanity.

We ride through breathtaking landscapes and see where the peat, once use almost solely as the heat source in homes, is still being harvested.

We get out and walk a bit on this squishy surface and it feels very spongy and bouncy.   Looking at the cuts closely, what appears at first to be dirt is actually years’ of layers of composting vegetation.  When burnt, to me the peat smells like someone has poured strong green tea on the fire; sweet and acrid at the same time.

We move on and come across a beautiful lake with a story book castle.

Now Kylemore Abbey, a private school, it was once upon a time Kylemore Castle.  Built by Mitchell Henry for his beloved wife Margaret.  Henry, a rich industrialist of the 1800’s,  honeymooned with Margaret in this lush area of Ireland.  She wanted to live and raise their family in this beautiful setting, so her new husband built her a castle.

With its own chapel

But sadly, several years later, one of their your children fell ill and died in their perfect home.  Margaret never recovered from her sorrow even though she had moved back into the city as she could no longer bear to live in the castle.  She died shortly afterwards, some forty years earlier than her husband.  He sold the estate to the church, needing to relocate a group of displaced nuns who, turned it into a boarding school as it is today.

After visiting this lovely place with its sad, sad, story, we head back to the train station.

Feasting our eyes on the exquisite scenery.

Happy to have enjoyed the expanse of beauty in this BIG country, we fall into conversation with several fellow travelers on the train and discover we

 

are all Washington State residents.  It would seem that it is the world that is small  - after all.

 

Posted on October 26th, 2009 by dianagene
Filed under: Europe Trip