Nora Roberts's Travelogue of Ireland:
Long Day—June 21, 2007
We have a route. We have a plan. The weather is supposed to improve some as the day goes. It's raining, but pretty lightly as we leave to check out Quin Abby. Lots of wandering there, checking out the ruin and the gravesites. It's pretty and quiet, and wet.
Here Logan has a full blown tantrum. The red-eyed, forked-tongue, head revolving sort. It's amazing, and awfully funny. I see Stacie's on her last nerve even as she ignores his demony deep-throated shrieks, and give her a laughing hug. He finally wears himself out, and we continue on.
We're to go round through Tulla next, and see our land. But someone who shall remain nameless but whose initials are BW neglected to get directions. His claim he remembers how to get there are pretty quickly squashed. There will be no circling around endlessly and aimlessly with a carload of people, so we have to miss that visit and head onto Dysert O'Dea.
BW and I haven't been into the castle there in years. They've restored it considerably since, and we start off buying our tickets in what's now a pretty little tea room where the lady looks so apologetic for taking our money. We climb up the winding stairs—the kids are practically experts at this now—and come into the dining hall. This, Logan says, spotting the weapons, is where the bad guys eat. It's the bad guy's kitchen with its displays of swords and muskets that fascinate him especially. Here, too, we climb to the battlements and stand in the rain to look out over the fields, and to the church and the high cross.
The rain comes and goes again as we walk to the high cross, and see the cows just over the stone wall—and avoid the minefield of cow pies. The big, carved cross has stood here since the 12th century, and gives the kids a place to play a quick, silly game of hide-and-seek before we walk to the church and the ruins of a round tower. There I have to identify for the kids the figures inside all the little round plastic bowls that hold flowers. It's Jesus, it's Mary, it's some mysterious saint. And oddly a single shoe—a battered Nike—sits on the stone wall.
The cows have come into the field since we walked through. One, huge and brown, makes threatening moves toward Dan and Stacie and Bruce. Dan hefts Logan up and makes a wide detour. I hear Kat behind me go: Oh-oh! I have Kayla climb onto the wall so I can give her a piggy-back ride back, and make a point of striding without concern, and talking constantly, as we approach the cow. She ignores me and we're through without incident.
We loop around toward the Burren. The rain's solid and steady, but it's a dramatic turn up toward Black Head on the coast road. The stormy Atlantic on one side, the drenched fields on the other and the gloomy sky above. And the ground gets rockier, rising into stony cliffs, and the road snakes along.
We stop in Ballyvaughn for lunch and luck into a big pub with wonderful food. It's all warm and dry, and the potato leek soup I order is perfect. I've made a deal with the kids. Be good, get a prize. Logan couldn't pull it off, so I make a point of going across to the little shop with Kayla where she picks out some little thing. Actions, consequences. He swears he'll be good, and I tell him if and when, he'll get a prize, too.
Now it's into the Burren and a rainy, windy walk to the dolman. The weather, obviously, didn't improve. It devolves. The kids are less unhappy with this than the rest of us, and enjoy hopping from rock to rock. My shoes are soaked, right through the socks by now.
But we've come this far, and can't miss the Cliffs of Moher. This, too, has changed since our last visit. There's a big visitor's center, a big parking lot, exhibits. We climb. Up, up, up with wide stone steps with the cliffs beside us. I wince when Dan holds Logan on the wall—but am assured there's ground on the other side. Still, Nana has to look away. Again, the kids are resilient and walk all the long way up, and to the pretty castle at the head. The wind is slapping the rain in our faces, and it's starting to reach the bone.
Thoughts that the kids would sleep on the drive home prove false. Kayla talks in various voices with the little doll she bought, and Logan joins in. The adults want dry clothes and alcohol, asap.
We decide we'll get room service and have it in the pretty gallery outside our rooms. Dry clothes, that much-deserved alcohol, and the kids tucked in with the door open provide a relaxing meal to end a very long, wet day.
I read later it was one of the worst days of the year. LOL. What're you gonna do?
Nora
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