This picture says Knowth, but it is really Newgrange.
As you've noticed I didn't have Internet access this week and I only have a few minutes now. But I can't wait to tell you all about my week. The south of Ireland is as magical as the north. We stayed in a little cottage on a mountain side surrounded by fields of sheep. I have never seen a more picturesque sight in my life.
These are some of the satellite mounds around Knowth
Today is a big travel day. We leave from Dublin land in New York, have a layover, and then go on to Salt Lake City. I am tired, but the great blessing has been that my foot has held up with all this walking and I've had the energy to do everything I wanted to do. It is an absolute miracle and I am so grateful.
Yesterday we saw Newgrange and Knowth. These are just north of Dublin and are two of three ancient sites (older than the Egyptian pyramids in Giza) that have been found and preserved. Newgrange was built so that at the winter solstice the sun shines through a narrow passage into the center of the huge mound and for 17 minutes illuminates it. There are many interpretations of why these Megalithic people built these mounds, but I don't think any of them come close to the truth.
Me at O'Niel's
We also saw the book of Kells yesterday, but I'll have to tell you about that incredible book later. The battery on the computer is about to run out and I left the adapter in the cottage so we can't plug it in. I do have to share one more thing. The best food in Ireland is found at the pubs and for our last night in Ireland we found the most delightful old pub with the best food. It finished off our adventure with a touch of historic magic and delight.
We slept in a little this morning because everyone is tired. The children have been amazingly good. They've enjoyed the places we've been, but they don't like the long hours in the car to get there. So this morning we took it easy and then drove just a few miles to the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum. We started in the Folk Museum and if I'd known what all was there I would have arrived sooner. The place is a village of homes brought in to preserve the daily history and culture of Ireland. While there D8 learned some Irish dancing and we all got a taste of "olden days."
The oldest home was built in the early 1600s and the latest was a bank managers home from 1920s. Farm homes, tract homes, merchant shops, print shops, weigh stations, weaver shops, basket makers, black smiths, you name it and it was there. I tasted soda bread made by a period costumed woman over an open fire, and spent awhile talking to another woman in a tract house that had all the "modern" conveniences of her day which included a tap that brought water right into the house and a gas meter that you put coins into and it gave you gas to use for gas lights and a hot plate. It is easy to see why the Irish have a mythology dancing with leprechauns and little people. Everything here was and is small or as they say,"wee."
It rained all day, but it was more of a constant misting which made me cold so Mr. J and I had low tea at the Tea Shop before we left which consisted of a delicious pot of peppermint tea. That helped warm me and we were ready for the Transport museum. While Mr. J found out how to get out of the village, I bought toffee at the corner candy shop for the kids. The only problem is that the Transport Museum was about to close so we hurriedly walked through the first building of trolleys, cars, and bicycles, but never saw the airplane, train, and Titanic exhibit. Since the Titanic was built here in Belfast I'm sure the exhibit was wonderful, but we keep running out of time everywhere we go .
With all the museums now closed, Mr. J and I drove to Crawfordsburn, a quaint village that many writers have frequented. Bunyan, Tennyson, and C. S. Lewis have all stayed there at the Old Inn part of which was built in the early 1600s and still sports a thatched roof. Walking into the interior is a walk into the 1800s--dim lights, overstuffed furniture, dark wood paneling, and rich floral carpeting. To say I immediately fell in love with the little, winding village is an understatement and there aren't even words to express the magic of the Old Inn. One room was set up for low tea and Carl took my picture sitting in one of the couches.
Next we drove into Belfast and found Little Lea, the home Lewis lived in when he was a boy. The home is privately owned and from all the fences, hedges, and forest around the home it is obvious the current owners don't want anyone intruding, but we did get a picture of me at the front gate. The home is large and impressive and beautifully kept. It is difficult to believe that it is over a hundred years old. A delightful surprise was finding that just four-tenths of a mile from Little Lea is the Holywood ward--a place where Mr. J attended missionary meetings and baptisms when on his mission.
Tomorrow we go to Church at the meeting house in Cave Hill where Mr. J served and then head south where we will spend the rest of our trip. So next time you hear from me I'll be in Cahir (prounounced care).
I just have to say before I close, "Dreams really do come true!!!"
Today we had sun beautiful sun lighting our way along the Antrim coast. We escaped the highways today and followed the coast along the north shore where the rolling green hills meet the Atlantic Ocean. To start our adventures we crossed the rope bridge at Carrick-a-Rede (It means "rock in the road."). The bridge dangles 30 meters above crystal clear waters and connects the land to the tiny Carrick Island. For 350 years fishermen have erected bridges here to catch fish during the salmon season. Bad foot and all I managed to make the trek across! The view from the bridge includes glimpses of Scotland and Rathlin Island.
After the long hike to and across the bridge, we were ready for lunch and found an amazing old inn and restaurant in Bushmills that we had been told had delicious food. We were not disappointed. I don't know how old the building, but it was hundreds of years old and full of quaint twists and turns. I had a vegetarian lasagna made out of butternut squash and artichoke hearts layered between thin sheets of pasta that was delightful mostly because of the butter and vinegar sauce melted over it and sprinkled with pepitas.
From there we went to the famous Giant's Causeway where mythology tells us Finn McCool outsmarted the Scottish giant Benandonner. It is easy to see how such an amazing place inspired delightful stories. Millions of hexagonal rocks nested neatly together. We climbed over them, on them, and through them until we felt right at home like part of Finn McCool's family.
After the long hike out of the causeway, we rode over to Portstewart which Mr J and his companion opened up to missionary work many long years ago. Now, mind you, for 43 years I've heard stories of how hard missionary work was in Ireland. But this trip has ended all pity I ever offered him. First we saw the hotel he lived in for seven months, and yesterday we saw the resort he "labored" in. The place is beautiful and his flat was right on the coast. I mean, walk out the front door, turn left and in ten steps you are on an Atlantic Ocean beach. (The picture below is taken about 50 feet from his front door!) He did tell us stories of months spent petitioning the city for a place to hold Church meetings and of constantly being rejected. But I'm no longer feeling sorry for him. Portstewart is beautiful.
After seeing his "digs" we went around the corner and found a children's park which the grandkids enjoyed and then we went back down the coastal road to see the 12 century castle at Dunluce. It was closed by then, but it doesn't get dark here until a little after 10:00 pm so we stopped for pictures over the wall and then continued to follow the incredibly beautiful coastal road home. We didn't get there until after midnight. It was a very full day, but full of adventure and fun.
Today started out drizzly, but by the time we got to Londonderry the sun shone bright—not warm but sunny—which made for a very pleasant day. We traveled a scenic route that took us through the country. Nothing in Northern Ireland is flat. You are either going up hill or down which means there are always rolling hills above you or below you. The hills look like God laid down a giant patchwork guilt with the patches bordered by dark green ( hedges) and filled with lighter green fields dotted with grazing sheep and cows sitting on the hills watching us go by.
Londonderry is what the city is called in the North, but in the Republic it is called Derry, and the fight about the name seems to symbolize all the contention. Coming north the other day from Dublin all the direction signs read “Derry.” In many places the city is written as Londonderry/Derry, and here in the North on almost all the mileage signs, the “London” part of the word had been spray painted over so that all that was left of the name was “derry.” The fight over what to call the city caused one DJ to suggest they call it Stroke. That didn’t make much sense to me until I learned that what we call a backslash is to the Irish a stroke.
Ancient Londonderry was a walled city and the wall still stands. We walked atop the wall around the city to get a feel for the place and stopped in a small cathedral, St. Augustine’s, just off the wall. As I walked in there was a recording of bagpipes playing, “Amazing Grace” my all time favorite hymn which I want played at my graveside on bagpipes! It was a magical moment. St. Augustine’s was built in the 13th century and had been ruined and restored and rebuilt over the years and is now beautifully maintained. While there we found out about a historical play that would begin in forty-five minutes at another cathedral. So we walked on around the wall until we came to the big cathedral St. Columb’s, built in 1633. It was being refurbished and covered with scaffolding; the inside was also half shut off for workmen, but what we saw was beautiful. The wife of one of the bishops who presided there is the author of the hymn, “There is a Green Hill Far Away.” The words were inspired by the green hills surrounding Londonderry that made her think about of Calvary.
In 1748 John Newton was caught in an Atlantic storm and shipwrecked but miraculously survived which caused him to give up slave trading. While his ship was being repaired he went hunting with the Mayor of Londonderry and was shot through his hat. Now very converted and determined to change his ways he went on to be a devout Christian and many think that these experiences in Londonderry were the inspiration for his writing the hymn, “Amazing Grace.”
From there we went on to the play, but instead of being a play it was period costumed players who interacted with us telling stories of their days and times which was 1789. Delightfully they told us about King George losing the colonies and of having tea (pronounced tah) with the ladies down the street. They taught my grandsons how to politely bow when saying goodbye and we had a delightful time with them before taking our leave.
We also visited the monuments for those who lost their lives in the Troubles which is the Irish revolt that lasted roughly from 1968 to 1998. It was a very full day, the highlight being a visit to the “flat” where Mr J lived while on his mission. The lady who lives there now was very kind (I’ve decided all Irish people are extremely hospitable!) and visited with us for awhile. It is very late now, but hard to go to sleep with all the day’s events dancing in my head.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Our first day in Ireland was traditional--rain, more rain, and lots of rain. We headed out in the morning for Ballymena, one of the places Mr. J served on his mission. Mr. J is doing much better with the left side driving and the standard shift car, but today our adventure included several trips down one way streets going the wrong way! The very friendly Irish honked in an effort to save us from peril and even stopped to offer us help. (I can't get over how friendly they are! Even at the places we visited they'd hear our accent and over help and advice on what to see and where to go. They are wonderful people!)
For years Mr J told me about the hotel he lived in for 7 months where maids made their beds every morning and they ate in the restaurant at the hotel (Leighinmohr House) because they had room AND board.Soft life, huh? The place was still there and instead of being older and uglier it was newer and more beautiful. They had added on to it and kept it in very good repair. As a matter of fact it was rather posh, which Mr. J assured me was not the case when he lived there. Mr. J walked us through the place explaining all the ghosts of the past that lived there including the place where the Christmas tree stood. It was a delight.
We were supposed to go to the Giant's Causeway next, but the heavens were weeping so violently that we decided to change the schedule and go to another of Mr. J's cities, Carrickfergus.There we visited a castle built in 1177. King John once was there and it was equipped with a latrine inside the castle--on each floor of the four floors of the keep. Amazing engineering. The place was very well preserved and replete with statues going about everyday business which included, as pictured here King John sitting on his "throne".
The castle sits right on the Irish Sea and had a commanding view of the water. Mr. J took some amazing pictures from the windows of the castle.
After the castle, we tried to find the areas Mr J worked and lived, but instead all we found were dead ends. Very small dead ends that were difficult to turn around in. Have I mentioned that the streets here are very narrow? One development was like a maze where every road ended in a dead end. We finally had to ask some young men how to get out of the place.
By the time we got out of the castle it had stopped raining, but everything was closed so we rode home enjoying the scenery of rolling green hills bordered not with wood and barbed wire fences, but with beautiful thick, tall, green hedges and sheep or cows dotting the green fields between the borders. I know now why C. S. Lewis said that heaven looked like the country around Belfast.
A 50 year old dream has come true! I am in the land of leprechauns! We arrived in Dublin yesterday after a long flight. We were supposed to leave at 10:40 pm, but there were mechanical problems with the plane and so we had a two hour delay. We flew all night to find sunshine in Ireland. We rented our car and began a perilous journey north.I say perilous because it was absolutely dangerous! Mr. J first had to drive from the right side of the car which meant shifting with his left hand (Yes, the cars are standard shift!) He hasn't driven a standard shift for years and on the right side of the car for forty-four years. But that was only the beginning while we were still in the parking lot.
Out on the street, if you can call them streets, (they are more the size of sidewalks) he had to drive on the left. Now I know why they have small cars here. Our car at home wouldn't fit on the sidewalk size street. We did fairly well finding our way north until just before Belfast when we took a wrong exit off a roundabout (that is pronounced (runedeboot). We did a merry-go-round, and round and round on the roundabout several times trying to decide which exit to take and finally took the wrong one. But I'm sure we gave several Irish people a good laugh. Soon we found ourselves in the middle of heavy traffic in some city (we didn't even know which) without a clue which way to go. Mr. J rolled down his window at a stop light and asked the red headed Irishman next to us how to get to Belfast. He smiled and asked if that was our destination. Mr. J told him we were going to Bangor and he said, "Just follow me for 15 minutes." Bless his Irish heart.
As we followed over hill and over dale, through narrow (Have I stressed narrow enough?) roads, Mr. J accidentally turned on the windshield wipers and couldn't get them turned off. So with wipers wiping nothing, we rode through stone lined streets and green hedges and finally arrived. (After about ten minutes he managed to turn the wipers off!) I don't even know the man's name, but as he left us he said, "I could tell by the accent you needed help, and a little hospitality never hurts!" A little!!! It was a lot and we prayed for the good man last night!
We found D8 and her family in a delightful little cottage called Silvercrest Mews. I've always loved how they name their homes here. I think we should all do it. Doesn't saying "I live in Silvercrest Mews," rather than "I live at 140 North" sound much more enticing? It adds zest to dull life. We found a wonderful restaurant called New Orleans Papa Joes. Now talk about Irish! But the food was fantastic and with an Irish twist to creole cooking. I had a vegetarian tart that was amazing and the garlic and herb potatoes were delicious.
Then we took a ride to the shore line and watched the sun go down on the Irish Sea. Gorgeous but cold. We came from 90 degree heat into 60 degree weather. We were tired after no sleep all night in the plane but it was a wonderful beginning to our stay in the land of rainbows and pots of gold.
Hope your days are also full of rainbows. Just for fun leave a comment telling what you would name your home.
(I'll post pictures as soon as Mr. J has time to load them!)
I am so sad to be leaving the Smith farm and the Sacred Grove. We've walked the Grove for about 20 hours, listened to a devotional talk while in the grove, watched the wildlife, but most importantly soaked in the sacred light that exists even in the shadows of the Grove. We've listened to the stories of people who have come from all over the world just to see the place where their faith began. We've been surprised by how many come from Central and South America, their eyes wide with wonder and expectation just to know they are in the same place Joseph Smith walked and talked, and especially a place where it is known that Jesus Christ and God the Father have appeared upon the earth. Most come here to be fortified and renewed and to celebrate and worship. It has been such a blessing to be part of it and to help those coming here in even in a small way.
Yesterday we finished our last shift at 3:30 and D1 and her family came over from Zion's Camp to go through the Grove with us. All four boys were in white shirts (except for a little breakfast and lunch on some of them! Afterall, they are camping!) We showed them all we have learned and our favorite spots in the Grove, then we stopped at a bench near the oldest tree in the Grove, the Apostle Tree, and we all talked about the First Vision. To end Mr. J and I shared our testimonies with them. It was a very sweet time with our South Carolina grandchildren that we don't get to see very often.
I knew it before I came here but this experience has strengthened my testimony. I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet sent by God and that Jesus Christ and God the Father appeared to him in the Sacred Grove. I know the the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true and that it offers eternal life, happiness and love to all who follow its teachings.I will never forget this experience!
This morning we are packing up, driving (six hours!) back to NY city and will fly out to Ireland tonight. I'm glad we have this ahead of us or I don't know if I could go home! As soon as I have Internet access again, I'll let you know what I think of Ireland.
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