Tuesday, August 21. 2007
Tuesday August 21, 2007 My morning at the Ballyseede Castle style was a pleasantly quiet one. However, it was not a quiet as the Ballynahinch, due to a noise that awoke me this morning, which may have been attributed to the castle ghost. There was a strange water sound in the ceiling above my room and it sounded like bad plumbing. Perhaps the ghost, Hilda as she was known, had been taking a shower or some such activity to remind the humans she was still about.
I went downstairs for breakfast as opposed to having it brought to my room, having been convinced by the lady who checked me in yesterday that it would be better to come down to the dining room for the morning meal. It probably was a good idea, as they had a buffet-styled breakfast along with the normal fare made cooked to order, but there was nothing like the smell of room service in the morning. It smelled of……affluence!
Maximizing my stay, I remained in my room to work on my entry and process some photographs until it was close to check out time. It was nice to not be rushed, as I had plenty of time to make my way to the Two Mile Inn in Limerick and be ready for the Irish Nights dinner show. The event was to take place at the Bunratty Folk Park at 7pm, which was a handful of kilometers away from the hotel.
After finishing up my work, I packed my bags and hauled my belongings down the staircase and out to my car. Not feeling like a pack mule, I took a couple of trips to get everything out of my room. As I was doing so, the dog, which I had seen laying by the fireplace last night, was doing a good job of playing dead by the front entrance again. Arthur, as he was named, was the castle guard dog and it appeared he had taken up a good position to monitor the activity at the entrance. It seemed that he had things well under control.
After settling my bill, I charted a course for Limerick, which was via the N23 to Castleisland, thence the N21 to Limerick. The hotel was located just on the other side of the city on the N18. Having seen it many times during my earlier stay in the Limerick area, I knew it was right on the N18 on the northbound side of the road.
The drive was mostly uneventful and the traffic through the towns was much lighter than previously experienced. Making good time, I was in Limerick by 1pm. The thought of having to head back south for my stay in Tralee the following evening made me weary, and it was still undetermined where my accommodations would be after that, if the Thursday flight out of Dublin was not going to happen.
I thought about how it would be possible to squeeze in another shot at getting to out Skellig Michael tomorrow morning and still have time to drive to Dublin to get ready for the flight, should it be approved. It seemed I was trying to drive myself to death before departing Ireland. The thought of finally heading home was quite appealing, and kept me going at a vigorous pace.
Pulling into the parking lot for the hotel, I noticed there were few cars and it seemed deserted. However, upon entering the lobby, I noticed much activity in the massively spacious lobby. It had a vaulted roof which made the place look very airy. There were several sitting areas, and I quickly noticed the computer workstation at the end of the chamber opposite the front desk. I also had read that they had wireless internet in the public areas as well.
Upon checking in, I inquired as to the availability of rooms in the coming days, trying to formulate some ideas for accommodations should they be needed. When I told the woman behind the counter my situation with the airlines, she gleefully informed me that the Aer Lingus pilots had called off the strike and that the airline was operating normally.
Wondering about my flight arrangements, I mentioned to her that I did not get any messages from the company regarding my status, and thought that they should have tried to contact me. Unless of course, the illustrious Leprechauns managed to intercept any attempt by Aer Lingus to reach me.
Feeling the need to visit the Shannon airport, I completed checking in and moved most of my belongings into the room before charging out on the N18 northbound. It was my thinking that the original flight was back on the airlines’ to-do list, and that it would be possible for me to get my seat back before it was too late.
Breezing into the airport short-term parking lot, I bolted out of the car and briskly walked into the terminal building to the Aer Lingus ticket counter. Geraldine, the employee with whom I made my new bookings, was not present and had just left for the day. When I inquired as to the status of my original flight, the gentleman informed me that there was plenty of room and that he could book me without a problem. He noticed that my booking for the Thursday flight had been approved and that I was still set to fly on the 27th as well.
Pondering if I should stay with the Thursday flight out of Dublin and try to fit Skellig Michael into my agenda, I thought it best to go with the original plan, as I was not looking forward to both a drive back to Dublin and dealing with the zoological airport in the capital city. It seemed to me that I should get while the going was good and give myself the rest of the day to prepare my bags for travel. With the flight scheduled to depart at 2pm tomorrow and the airport being close at hand from my hotel, it seemed I would have plenty of time to do my preparations and still take in the Irish Nights show.
Once arrangements had been finalized, it was time to head to the shopping center to buy a suitcase in which to carrying all the loot I had acquired since being in Ireland. Having to deal with several small bags full of stuff for the last few weeks, it would be nice to organize and consolidate everything into one tidy container. It was my thought that it would make going through customs much easier if I had all my declared items in one case, and all my belongings of U.S. origin in the other.
Laying out my day, I thought it would be good to pick up my dropped-off laundry from the cleaners at the Shannon Skycourt shopping center on my way to Irish Nights, as it would be ready after 5pm. This left me with the task of purchasing a suitcase and going back to the hotel to start packing. I also needed to upload yesterday’ entry and attach the appropriate photographs to it. There were also some last minute gifts that needed to be found, and it seemed a good idea to do that at the Bunratty Folk Park gift shop just before the show. With the plan made, it was time to execute.
With everything happening as planned, I found myself in the Bunratty Folk Park with an hour to spare. Deciding to stroll about the park to see if there was anything I missed during my visit earlier, I marched over to the castle to do some looking around.
Checking out the castle grounds, I had found an odd looking ramp paved with baseball-sized, rounded stone and it seemed to dead end at a rural road, with it being a few feet below the grade of the street. It seemed that it was an ancient road, and the more contemporary road had been built over it, cutting it off from where ever it may have gone. It was odd indeed, and was like nothing I had seen at any castles before.
Walking back through a wooded area, I noticed several trails and decided to follow one to a remote area. Admiring the deciduous trees, my eyes caught a small black object at the foot of what appeared to be an oak tree. It was nestled in some green plants and the top of it shined in the sunlight that penetrated the tree tops. Deciding to walk over for a closer look, my eyes swelled when it appeared that I had finally located the object of one of my more important Ireland quests; it was a small black pot filled with gold coins!!!
Feeling my heart race, I wondered why the Leprechauns would have left it in such an open place. But then again, several things started to make sense when pondering the mind of my most pervasive nemesis.
It seemed that the wee men were trying to keep me from Skellig Michael, perhaps trying to divert my attention away from the true location of their pot of gold. It appeared that the only time they did not screw with me was when I was in the Limerick area, perhaps using some reverse psychology. Well it seemed their plan failed and I was the ultimate victor, having fell victim to their devious schemes earlier.
Now the hard work would begin, as they would probably try to stop me from leaving the country with the booty. Getting out of Ireland with the gold was one thing, getting out alive was another. It would require much diligence on my part, and I thought that it would be necessary to be extra vigilant of any reprisals.
After packing up my loot, along with the pot just for good measure, I headed over to the folk village to wait for admission to the Irish Nights show. Finding a seat on an antique-styled bench, I noticed that there were some folks waiting for the show as well. Soon a herd of tourists from a couple of tour buses started fill the area and it seemed that it was just about show time.
Within a few moments, a man dressed in traditional Irish clothing opened the door and begun to allow folks in the building, while taking their tickets. As we filed into the door, there were some maidens in period clothing serving small glasses of mead, Irish cream or juice. Taking a small glass of mead, I sipped the drink while enjoying the flavor of the honey-based wine.
Heading into the main hall, where which there was a stage with several tables set before it, we met a woman who was giving guests their seating assignments. Since the event was reservation-only, they had all the guests organized so as to maximize table usage, ensuring that there was no empty seats. Since I was a party-of-one, I had to sit at a table with two other small groups, making me the filler of a lonely seat.
Waiting for the event to begin, we sat and chatted for a time, as there was still a tour bus group which still had not showed up. It seemed that they were not going to start the festivities until all were present. There were two women on the stage, one with a guitar and the other with an accordion-styled instrument, playing Irish music to keep the masses appeased.
Coming in about 20 minutes late, the final group of guests took their seats and the show was on. Similar to the medieval banquets, as they were apparently run by the same company, the performers were also our servers, and they introduced themselves to the guests of their assigned tables before things got under way. Upon learning our preferences for the main course, of which mine was the Irish stew, they scooted off to get the process started.
The man who greeted us at the entrance, who seemed to be in charge, came on stage to introduce the troupe and gave us a basic idea of how the dinner show would transpire. Once that was said, he kicked off the event and the non-performing members departed the stage to start serving the meal.
Bringing out the first course, which was a simple garden salad, they served us as we enjoyed some music from the performers not engaged in serving tasks. In between courses, the master of ceremonies came on stage to introduce the various segments of entertainment that took place as we consumed our dish.
The show included hearing traditional Irish music with the guitar, the fiddle, an Irish drum and an accordion-styled instrument. There was much singing too, both by the performers individually and collectively, and at times including all the guests. If no one knew the words, clapping was the accepted alternative. Our host even commented that there were some folks that should not consider singing at all, for the benefit of the others.
One of my favorite parts was the Irish dancing, which was similar to the Riverdance performers seen back home. There was one form that looked similar to square dancing. They even got some volunteers into the act, if you want to call them that, having been coerced by the MC and some others in the audience. The humor, to say the least, was in abundance, as the chief host took every opportunity to exploit the guests as if they were props in his act.
One of the performers was labeled as a world-class dancer, and he demonstrated Irish dancing while sweeping the stage with a push broom. It made me think that had I tried to do something like that, I would have needed medical attention soon thereafter.
The pattern was to serve a course, then gather on stage to present a song, some music, a dance or a storytelling session as we ate. It was dinner with a garish of entertainment to make the food go down in the most pleasant of ways. Once the dessert had been served and the tables cleared of dishes, it was time for the full force of the multifaceted show. It was a neat way to digest a wonderful meal.
When our host recapped what we had seen in the show, seemingly bringing the event to a close, he labeled it as being traditional Irish entertainment and announced that we were about to see something a little more contemporary.
As the lights colored a dark and surreal tone, smoke emanated from the facade of a little cottage built on the backside of the stage, and dancers appeared in modern day costume to demonstrate some contemporary Irish dance. The thundering of the dancers’ hard soled shoes on the stage sounded like the charge of a hundred horses and the music added to the excitement with the quickened fiddle and Irish drum. It was an awesome performance and served well as the show’s finale.
Fortunately I had a fresh memory card loaded into my camera and was able to record a video of the dance in its entirety. However, the file size was 765mb, making it too big to burn onto a CD. It did not make sense that hard drives were holding more gigabytes while becoming increasingly smaller in physical size but that a CD still had a maximum capacity of 700mbs. Oh well, at least I had it saved on both the memory card and on my laptop for the trip home.
With the show being over at 9:30pm, it seemed that it would be a long night and an early morning in order to get all my preparations done before my departure from the Emerald Island. I also would have to sleep with an open ear, just in case the Leprechauns had discovered they had been deprived of their pot of gold and figured out how to find me in order to recover it.
It was probably as well that I had not found it earlier in the trip, as it would have made for a stressful vacation, having to always look over my shoulder. However, I was not out of the woods yet.
To see more photographs related to this post go to the Photo gallery and click on the link for “Irish Nights.”
