The Irish Wedding
Traveling has always been one of my favorite past times. This trip began with Mary and I finding ourselves going to Clyde (Mary’s son) and Tara’s Irish wedding in Dublin, then afterwards exploring parts of Ireland and Scotland. We often enjoy traveling by bicycle however, after investigating the possibilities of biking in Ireland and Scotland backpacking seemed to be a better bet. A few weeks before our trip our backpacks were in the living room and we put our tent, pads and camping stove, along with clothes and other items. in our packs. This became a continuous process of putting things in, weighing the pack, then taking things out, until it was finally time to go. Our goal was to camp as much as possible and travel by bus, train, ferries and even some hitchhiking. The biggest advantage in traveling by bicycle or mass transit is that you can meet so many more people and the result is truly getting a feel of the culture of the areas visited. It is the interaction with the people that makes the tip worthwhile, and expectations can be described by a simple story.
The Two Travelers and the Farmer North America
A traveler came upon an old farmer hoeing in his field beside the road. Eager to rest his feet, the wanderer hailed the countryman who seemed happy enough to straighten his back and talk for a moment.
“What sort of people live in the next town?” asked the stranger.
“What were the people like where you’ve come from?” replied the farmer, answering the question with another question.
“They were a bad lot. Troublemakers all, and lazy too. The most selfish people in the world, and, not a one of them to be trusted. I’m happy to be leaving the scoundrels.”
“Is that so?” replied the old farmer. “Well, I’m afraid that you’ll find the same sort in the next town.”
Disappointed, the traveler trudged on his way, and the farmer returned to his work.
Sometime later another stranger, coming from the same direction, hailed the farmer, and they stopped to talk. “What sort of people live in the next town?” he asked.
“What were the people like where you’ve come from?” replied the farmer once again.
“They were the best people in the world. Hardworking, honest and friendly. I’m sorry to be leaving them.”
“Fear not,” said the farmer. “You’ll find the same sort in the next town.”
(from’ Folktales for Travelers’, edited by D. L. Ashliman, 1997-2009)
We flew out of Providence, RI where we left our car at our friends, Doreen and Mark (Mark is the one who relayed the Two Travelers story and although when looking it up I could not find his version). Our time there was the start of our trip with long conversations and getting a tour of the Bristol area, one of many peninsulas. The flight to Ireland was uneventful and soon we found ourselves at the Dublin Airport, boarding a bus and making our way to Ann and Michael’s (Tara’s parents) house in Sandymount, a village of Dublin. I was impressed on how simply they live; the house is small by American standards, especially when considering how many grew up in this dwelling. Ann and Michael were so generous to open their home up to Mary and me.
Clyde catered his own wedding and everyone pitched in with food prep and other wedding chores with Clyde and Tara in command. One of the first events on the agenda was a ‘meet and greet’ at an Irish pub in none-other than Irishtown, another village within Dublin. The families and friends of both sides poured into the pub and soon the whole place was buzzing with family and old friends seeing each other added to the excitement of the Irish and Americans meeting each other.
By the next morning the pace of our trip is set, and Mary and I start off by catching a train to visit Howth, a small fishing village along Dublin’s bay and returning home just in time to go with Michael to pick up the vegetables in a rural area about an hour outside of Dublin.
The Two Travelers and the Farmer North America
A traveler came upon an old farmer hoeing in his field beside the road. Eager to rest his feet, the wanderer hailed the countryman who seemed happy enough to straighten his back and talk for a moment.
“What sort of people live in the next town?” asked the stranger.
“What were the people like where you’ve come from?” replied the farmer, answering the question with another question.
“They were a bad lot. Troublemakers all, and lazy too. The most selfish people in the world, and, not a one of them to be trusted. I’m happy to be leaving the scoundrels.”
“Is that so?” replied the old farmer. “Well, I’m afraid that you’ll find the same sort in the next town.”
Disappointed, the traveler trudged on his way, and the farmer returned to his work.
Sometime later another stranger, coming from the same direction, hailed the farmer, and they stopped to talk. “What sort of people live in the next town?” he asked.
“What were the people like where you’ve come from?” replied the farmer once again.
“They were the best people in the world. Hardworking, honest and friendly. I’m sorry to be leaving them.”
“Fear not,” said the farmer. “You’ll find the same sort in the next town.”
(from’ Folktales for Travelers’, edited by D. L. Ashliman, 1997-2009)
We flew out of Providence, RI where we left our car at our friends, Doreen and Mark (Mark is the one who relayed the Two Travelers story and although when looking it up I could not find his version). Our time there was the start of our trip with long conversations and getting a tour of the Bristol area, one of many peninsulas. The flight to Ireland was uneventful and soon we found ourselves at the Dublin Airport, boarding a bus and making our way to Ann and Michael’s (Tara’s parents) house in Sandymount, a village of Dublin. I was impressed on how simply they live; the house is small by American standards, especially when considering how many grew up in this dwelling. Ann and Michael were so generous to open their home up to Mary and me.
Clyde catered his own wedding and everyone pitched in with food prep and other wedding chores with Clyde and Tara in command. One of the first events on the agenda was a ‘meet and greet’ at an Irish pub in none-other than Irishtown, another village within Dublin. The families and friends of both sides poured into the pub and soon the whole place was buzzing with family and old friends seeing each other added to the excitement of the Irish and Americans meeting each other.
By the next morning the pace of our trip is set, and Mary and I start off by catching a train to visit Howth, a small fishing village along Dublin’s bay and returning home just in time to go with Michael to pick up the vegetables in a rural area about an hour outside of Dublin.
Mary, Tyler, Liza, Michael and I pack into a compact car and we were off to the countryside where Eno and Penny have an organic farm. As we travel further outside the city the roads become much narrower. Michael spent much of his childhood there and he knows this area well, however since he usually buys the vegetables at a farmer’s market in Dublin, he didn’t know exactly where the farm was located. He takes a left, then a right and who knows, maybe another right and says, “I know it’s around here somewhere”. Soon we see a woman walking down the road and she tells Michael which way to go and to look for a tall wall. Soon we come to a tall wall but no farm, and we continue a little further and there was this huge wall and the entrance to the farm. We meet Eno and Penny and we are given a tour of the stone outbuildings while Michael reminds us that we are on a tight time schedule. We are invited to have lemonade out on a patio behind the house and learn that the house dates back to the 1700’s and we were told about the history of the farm. Michael again reminds us about our schedule, while the conversation flows into how Eno and Penny are doing their part to re-forest Ireland. They had planted 30,000 mixed varieties of trees down in the lower part of their property. As we looked down at the trees a red kite flew by, a bird that had disappeared in the area because of loss of habitat until recently. There were so many questions and Eno and Penny were gracious with their time but we finally listen to Michael’s plea and move back out to the barn, pick up the vegetables and began to make our way home.
We finally understand Michael’s intention as we head towards Dublin using the back roads. “Wait a minute; I thought we came the back way”. “No, we’re going through what is known as the Sallie Gap”. The beginning of our tour home took us past a house where Michael’s father was born and his old childhood stomping grounds. We wind our way through areas where the peat is cut, then dried before being carried away and used as a fuel source for many in Ireland. The valley is stunningly beautiful as we continue our journey upwards through the Sallie Gap. As we drive Michael tells us about the area’s history and geology. Then after leaving the country roads and making our way into the city everyone falls asleep, except of course the driver, who seems to be always driving on the wrong side of the road.
The house where Michael's father was born
The following day I was lucky enough to slip away and travel to downtown Dublin with Mary’s brother, Rob. Our first stop was Trinity College and the Old Library where the ancient Book of Kells, along with many other antiquities, is housed. This illustrated book of the four gospels of the bible is thought to have been written by monks following Saint Columba. The origin of who wrote it, when it was written, or even where it was written, is under debate. However, many believe it was written in the 8th or 9th century in Iona, an island in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland, the home of Columba’s monastery, and then transferred to the Abbey of Kells located in Ireland. There are two volumes on display and every day one page is turned on each of the volumes.
Rob and I continued our journey and found our way to the Kilmainham Gael (prison). We didn’t have tickets, but we were lucky and got in due to cancelations. The prison typically housed those that somehow disobeyed the law at a time when times were tough; consequently those who stole food to survive (even children) were imprisoned in this cold stark prison. Families who could not feed their children often encouraged them to steal so they would be arrested, sent to prison, and at least fed, however minimally. Towards the end of its life, political prisoners from the Easter Rebellion of 1916 were executed by a firing squad which brought the Kilmainham Gael under more public scrutiny. Rob and I ended the tour in the Nelson Mandela exhibition.
The Nelson Mandela exhibition at the prison was extensive. This quote stood out.
Soon the wedding day arrived along with all the last minute details and all of the tensions and anxiety that goes with the last bit of preparation. Ann was making sure everything was in place yet at a certain point in every wedding there comes a time when you just have to say “it’s ready”. Everyone got dressed and most of us headed to Saint Mary’s Star of the Sea Church by bus or walking. I’m greatly impressed by all of the mass transit, bicycling, and walking in the Irish everyday life, even to weddings. The wedding was so beautiful with the priest talking directly to Clyde and Tara, almost as if in a conversation, making the ceremony relaxed and special. Afterwards everyone walked to the pub before heading out, by foot, to the reception. What I have found to be true about the Irish is that they work, then play, and then celebrate with such amazing enthusiasm. This reception was an example of the high level of celebration. I don’t know how Clyde did it, but along with all the preparation of just getting married, he was in charge of all of the food which was incredibly delicious. After the appetizer and meal an Irish band played good old rock and roll. The dance floor was full and at one point the well-known bartender got up in front with the band and sang Honky Tonk Woman. The place went wild with the energy level up to the ceiling.
After several more dances it was getting late (for Mary and I) and the open bar was closed. I looked around and saw that the reception was not slowing down so I decided to buy a Guinness and to nurse it until we went home. I was sitting at the bar with Tara on the right of me and Tara’s Uncle John on the left. John pointed to my beer and said, “Have a Guinness?” I reply, “Yes”. Tara then taps me on my shoulder and asks, “Did you want another Guinness?” I shook my head, “No, I’m already having one.” I turn my head towards the bar as a second Guinness is placed in front of me. Tara starts to laugh as she tells me, “That is how the Irish ask if you want another.” I turned to John and asked how I was going to drink all this and he assured me that I had all night. And what a night it was! We finished it off by walking through the pitch (field) to our temporary home.
The celebration went on the next day. A bus was rented and we all boarded and headed to the Wicklow Mountains where we stopped and hiked a trail at a monastic settlement in Glendalough. Then it was back on the bus and again a ride through the Sallie Gap, this time on a road that was higher up on the ridge. From this vantage the whole valley could be seen. The road is narrow, with hair pin turns, and how the bus driver maneuvered the bus down that road is truly amazing. The bus stopped at the Jonny Fox Pub where we all filed in to experience an Irish hooley, a music and dance show. As we ate dinner a humorous, storytelling Irish folk band played music and sang followed by Irish step dancers. Towards the end of the step dancing the dancers pulled Tara and Clyde on stage and ‘wow’, it looked like they knew what they were doing. Once again the excitement rose. Let me tell you, Irish celebrations are unique, exciting and above all exhausting. Needless to say I fell asleep on the bus ride home. I do say home because Ann and Michael always made us feel at home the whole time we were in their village of Sandymount. This was the end of our stay and it was time to leave and many of us headed to the west coast.
After several more dances it was getting late (for Mary and I) and the open bar was closed. I looked around and saw that the reception was not slowing down so I decided to buy a Guinness and to nurse it until we went home. I was sitting at the bar with Tara on the right of me and Tara’s Uncle John on the left. John pointed to my beer and said, “Have a Guinness?” I reply, “Yes”. Tara then taps me on my shoulder and asks, “Did you want another Guinness?” I shook my head, “No, I’m already having one.” I turn my head towards the bar as a second Guinness is placed in front of me. Tara starts to laugh as she tells me, “That is how the Irish ask if you want another.” I turned to John and asked how I was going to drink all this and he assured me that I had all night. And what a night it was! We finished it off by walking through the pitch (field) to our temporary home.
The celebration went on the next day. A bus was rented and we all boarded and headed to the Wicklow Mountains where we stopped and hiked a trail at a monastic settlement in Glendalough. Then it was back on the bus and again a ride through the Sallie Gap, this time on a road that was higher up on the ridge. From this vantage the whole valley could be seen. The road is narrow, with hair pin turns, and how the bus driver maneuvered the bus down that road is truly amazing. The bus stopped at the Jonny Fox Pub where we all filed in to experience an Irish hooley, a music and dance show. As we ate dinner a humorous, storytelling Irish folk band played music and sang followed by Irish step dancers. Towards the end of the step dancing the dancers pulled Tara and Clyde on stage and ‘wow’, it looked like they knew what they were doing. Once again the excitement rose. Let me tell you, Irish celebrations are unique, exciting and above all exhausting. Needless to say I fell asleep on the bus ride home. I do say home because Ann and Michael always made us feel at home the whole time we were in their village of Sandymount. This was the end of our stay and it was time to leave and many of us headed to the west coast.
A big thanks to Ann and Michael's generosity and showing all of us Ireland