We’re driving on the left again. And you would not believe these roads.
They are of good quality. And, thankfully, empty as we are taking some scenic, rural routes. But these are narrow, one-lane strips of asphalt and the speed limits reach 100 kilometers per hour. Imagine, maybe, the width of a really wide parking space at home. Drive 60 miles per hour on something like that with brush and stone fences on either side of you.
I think this smile was forced:
But we are on the road. And by we I mean our friend Adam, who I met several years ago while writing a feature story on a World War II relative of his.
And his brand new fiance, Jessica. They just got engaged yesterday. And now she has to put up with us on a road trip she knows nothing about. This was all sprung on her. She has patience and a good sense of humor. We’ll see how long we can test those.
Fun people, fine friends. We’re glad there here.
Here’s our route today:
We’re seeing sights like these. Scroll down through the next several images. We’ll get some more words in here eventually. These are just shots I took out of the window as we drove from Enniskerry to Kilkenny today. I’m told the views only get better.
We checked into our Bed & Breakfast in Kilkenny, which is a town of about 24,000 people when you count the outlying folks. The name derives from the Irish meaning “church of Cainnech.” And Cainnech is Saint Cainnech, of Aghaboe, a 6th century Gaelic abbot, priest and missionary also known as Kenneth or Kenny two or three other names, depending on where you were standing. He is considered one of the Twelve Apostles of Ireland.
Kilkenny was originally the name of the church and the surrounding area later took on the name. The story goes — and it is one of those tales of the time that has a lot of telling and re-telling, so it might not be the most completely accurate, but close nevertheless — that in 597, Cainnech led a Christian army here to wipe out the last of the Druids. This was one of the last parts of Ireland to be converted to Christianity.
A tour was full. A music tour had ceased operation. We were really just winging it tonight anyway.
We ate here this evening, a family-owned joint since 1904. There was a sign of live music, but no actual live music. What to do?
“Get drunk with us,” said the bartender, overhearing our conversation. That wasn’t really on the agenda.
We did eat there. Here was the Irish stew I ordered for dinner. And while there isn’t normally a lot of food on this site — because food photographs just aren’t as interesting as the photographer thinks — I just wanted to tell you how delicious Irish stew is:
Do these look like the faces of two people who just got engaged?
There. That’s better. Our friends are funny, and they’re always blaming one another, in jest, for whatever the most immediate transgression happens to be. It is amusing to sort out the real story. Usually I pick the person who says the least.
We went down the street a way to Kyteler’s Inn, to hear some music. This was the house of Dame Alice Kyteler, a member of a prominent local banking family. She was charged with witchcraft, heresy and suspected in poisoning a few of her husbands in 1323. She’s believed to be the subject of the earliest witchcraft accusations in Ireland. She skipped town, fleeing presumably to England, where she disappeared from history. One of her servants was not so lucky; she was flogged and burned at the stake in 1324.
Happier days today, though. I saw this sign and note it here only to point out that I’m going to look them up, tell them I’m back and demand my cut of the empire. Never mind that I’m not Irish.
We met some nice guys tonight. They were from the outlying areas and had come to town for a bachelor party. Here’s the most normal of the bunch.
This guy has a counterpart in every bar and pub in the world, I’d bet. In your personal space, flirting with the ladies, starting out funny stories that somehow lose their oomph midway through.
But he introduced us to all these guys, including this one, who seemed a bit out of place.
And this guy. He was the priest. He was also coordinating the night’s entertainment. That’s what we were told. We learned he wasn’t a priest, but the story is better that way. It allowed one of the other guys to say “Welcome to Ireland.”
And right about then a guy in a bikini showed up. Presumably the night’s entertainment. Thankfully the music was starting so …
I did not know there were Carnegie Libraries in other parts of the world. Also, I took this photograph at 9:30 at night. We still had an hour of daylight left.
