Arran Isle and Ireland

The title is kind of a tongue twister. But the places are breathtaking, and very relaxing.

Arran Island had to be delayed a day because the trains were not running between Glasgow and the port. I changed trains in Kilwinning, and the timing was all good to get right on the ferry boat. I met Marion, a lady from Prestwick who was having a day out, and we chatted for the hour it took to get to the island. Once there I headed for Brodick castle and planned to stop at the museum on the way. There are buses but I decided a half hour walk sounded good. I wound up spending several hours at the museum, learning about some of the history of the island. There was a long prehistoric record, neolithic farmers for thousands of years, with rock structures in several places from ancient celtic times. A period of time in the late 1700's and early 1800's called the 'Clearance' had many small farmers being evicted to make room for larger spreads, for sheep farming. The evictees were offered land in Canada, but the immigration involved great hardship and much loss of life.

The museum has a great collection of old farm equipment and early farming lifestyle exhibits. I stopped for lunch and shared a table with some people from east Scotland who told me they come to the island every year. They had relatives in Canada since the Clearance, but had lost track of names through marriage.

By the time I walked to the castle-which was closed for the day, picked some orange blackberries (?) and walked back to the port, the ferry was coming in. I talked with Marion again on the way back, and learned that she had moved from England to Scotland 25 years ago, to a country place in the south, and had moved again recently into Prestwick as her husband became disabled with arthritis.

I had dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Troon after getting back on the train. It seemed too ironic to miss, and the place I intended for dinner was closed- but Irish Mexican food is something I can't really recommend.

At 5 the next morning I was watching a fox cross the golfcourse while waiting for a taxi. I made the connections- flew to Dublin, then took a bus to the train station. Train to Sligo-a three hour tour across the middle of Ireland on a lovely day. Stone walls everywhere. cattle and sheep, all in stone walled pastures. Stone walled houses. Small towns at small stations. Enchanting.

At Sligo, Dan met me at the station, and at his home in Streedagh Bay his wife Pam welcomed me to a place I would call Camelot. With views of beaches, at least one castle, and fantastic cliff-sided hills of Ben Bulben on the inland side, with a park-like preserve space next door to walk in and watch rabbits, huge numbers of them, with access to rocky fossil-encrusted shores, fishing spots, rolling turf-covered sand dune hills...

I have been shown many fascinating places not far away, like Yeates grave at a lovely small church (a place called Drumcliff), megalithic tombs, Park's Castle. The countryside is greening up again with recent rains, after weeks of an unusual drought.

History just seeps out of every beach and lake, and wafts from every stone in the walls, castles, houses. Just out the window where I stay, the shallows hide the remains of wrecked galleons from the Spanish Armada of the 1580's, and brings to life the fantastic story as told by a survivor. The storms that pushed 26 ships in that one season onto the coast of Ireland still rage, as the aftermath of Atlantic hurricanes washes up here.

Much more to say, but not much time for writing between explorations!

Tomorrow I leave for a hostel in the Galway area, traveling down the coast by bus.