Shannon, Ireland

Muckross House

Jaunting with Dennis & Suzie

Thatched roofs-Adare

August 31, 2007-Mucking About

Do you want to know why Irish dancers keep their hands at their sides? According to Fodor’s dancing was thought to be un-Christian. We all know that from the movie “Footloose” with Kevin Bacon. Irish dancers were taught to move as little of their bodies as possible and not to smile lest they seem to be enjoying it.

Our day started at Muckross House a 16,590 square foot mansion built in 1898. Although the stonework of the façade paled next to Stan Hywet in Akron the interior sparkled with original pieces dating from its inception through its redecoration for the two day stay of Queen Victoria and on to the 1970’s brass chandelier that resembles the one hanging in our own dining room. Now that’s a run-on sentence. There were too many dead animals hanging from the walls to suit our taste but each and every hanging crystal chandelier was a Waterford. The house has had a checkered past. At one point it was owned by Californians who gave it to their daughter as a wedding gift. One family had to sell acreage to keep out of bankruptcy. The present owner lives in France and visits during the month of July to spend his birthday there. He is 88. The original owners held over 40,000 acres. Most of the acreage was sold off over the years but the house and last 12,000 acres were donated to the National Park in 1932.

Jaunting through the grounds and nearby forest in a horse-drawn cart was available.  Dennis, our driver, and Susie, his 8-year old Irish draft horse with pinto markings, took us on our merry way. Dennis urged the mare on and gentled her by singing songs from ABBA. We sang both of them the song, “If You Knew Susie.” He seemed pleased. The wagon was sagging at the rear as we lurched through the forest primeval with Susie pulling our weight. We stopped to climb up to a waterfall and resumed our trek back with a much livelier Susie. She knew that a treat was waiting for her at the barn.

We were told that Ross Castle is worth seeing but skipped it. Fodor’s didn’t think it was great and neither did Rick Steves. They’re becoming ABC’s: another bloody castle or another bloody cathedral.

The Creeps

We aimed to stop in Adare outside Limerick after lunch. It was a cute town inundated with tourists (Israelis too). Its claim to fame is thatched houses. All six of the houses were on the main street. We checked at the tourist info center and learned that there was a priory and abbey to see as well. We decided to get to our B & B in Shannon instead.

We did see a sign that wouldn’t fly in the U.S: Jap Cars Limerick. They did indeed sell Toyotas and Nissans.

Our B & B is creepy. It’s not an old creepy place. It’s the people in it who are creepy. There seems to be a host without a hostess although she may appear tomorrow morning. The tables are set for breakfast and the orange juice is poured. The juice glasses are protectively covered with napkins. The host did not introduce himself. There are two skulking teen-age type boys who keep going outside for a smoke or sit in the dark watching TV. We don’t know if they’re guests or family. There is an electric shower that is familiar to us now but it’s switched on all the time. In our other B & B they told us to be sure to turn it off when we weren’t using it. Ron conjectured that perhaps the owners of the B & B were cannibals. When we stepped into the shower it would be hot enough to cook us then they’d eat us for breakfast. So far they haven’t asked what we’d want for breakfast but I’m not eating any meat.

I’ve mentioned the plethora of potatoes served in Ireland. It’s even the rule to serve fries with Shepherd’s Pie. Shepherd’s Pie is seasoned ground beef topped with mashed potatoes. Tonight took the cake. The woman at the next table had six scoops of mashed potatoes on her plate.

Karen always wanted to write a limerick in Limerick even though the five-line ditties aren’t named for the city. Here’s hers:

A limerick she wanted to write

T’would make her seem witty and bright.

But nothing came through.

What she’d heard was too true.

Writing limericks in Limerick was trite.

We lit Shabbat candles in our room tonight, used leftover bread for motze, and tiny tourist sample bottles of Mead served as wine for Kiddush. We thought that our host might be spooked hearing an odd language coming from our room. We decided that if confronted we’d tell him we’re Druids. Had we ordered the lamb chops at dinner tonight we could have smeared lamb blood on our doors to keep the Angel of Death and evil away.

Tomorrow we’ll go to the Cliffs of Mohr. Brrr!

Toby