As I begin to pack one more time, leaving Monday for Dublin-I think about how much this part of Ireland has affected me. I feel sadness in leaving, maybe because it is a soft and gentle place, peaceful and welcoming. Clean and authentic. County Galway ( I like saying it that way- like we could be saying County Salt Lake) also has the laws that prohibit jet skis and motor boats on public waterways, so maybe that also contributes to the peaceful feel of it.
I was back in Galway yesterday- I had bought an 18" bodhran (irish drum) and an instruction DVD- and then learned from the DVD that I probably needed another 'beater' or special stick to play it with- so had an excuse to return to the city. I walked to the Nogra bus stop where the only bus leaves at 7:10, so was in Galway before the stores were even open. I took a long walk to Salthill, a tourist area just southwest of Galway with beaches and parks, hotels and B&Bs and restaurants all along the prominade. One park is called the Children's Park, and dedicated to a six year old named Celia, one of a multitude who died in the famine. reminders are everywhere!
The bay near Galway is full of swans. I heard that last year some immigrants were catching and cooking them- but were quickly stopped. The swans are fun to watch. When they sleep with their snake neck tucked over their back, they often have one foot up on their back also. Seems tricky, floating and sleeping.
The walk is on the longest promenade in Ireland, and it is beautiful. There are monuments with poetry along the way. Wordsworth was one- I wish I had written it down! This one (also Wordsworth) will do:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
I was back in Galway yesterday- I had bought an 18" bodhran (irish drum) and an instruction DVD- and then learned from the DVD that I probably needed another 'beater' or special stick to play it with- so had an excuse to return to the city. I walked to the Nogra bus stop where the only bus leaves at 7:10, so was in Galway before the stores were even open. I took a long walk to Salthill, a tourist area just southwest of Galway with beaches and parks, hotels and B&Bs and restaurants all along the prominade. One park is called the Children's Park, and dedicated to a six year old named Celia, one of a multitude who died in the famine. reminders are everywhere!
The bay near Galway is full of swans. I heard that last year some immigrants were catching and cooking them- but were quickly stopped. The swans are fun to watch. When they sleep with their snake neck tucked over their back, they often have one foot up on their back also. Seems tricky, floating and sleeping.
The walk is on the longest promenade in Ireland, and it is beautiful. There are monuments with poetry along the way. Wordsworth was one- I wish I had written it down! This one (also Wordsworth) will do:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Well, back at the hostel, we now have a full house- about 50; adolescents from Dublin and their keepers. The place is a wreck. It was clean when they got here, and we are waiting for them to leave to clean again, that was the deal. So now it is just one more night of wildness, screaming and shouting. The keepers seem to be deaf.
Carol and I cycled to another side of the peninsula today, and were met by a brown border collie who accompanied us the rest of the way to the pier. Another really pretty place, the whole ride was gorgeous. The pictures are dark, no sunshune, again. Border collie insisted on playing fetch. Of course. I miss my dog!!
Boss Sean and his partner (fiance) (in Europe it seems they call all significant others 'partners') Michelle took Carole and I out for a drink and some music for my birthday. He has been the best host ever.
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