The Dingle Peninsula

Here it is...in all its glory. Click on the picture to enlarge.

A Picture Is Worth…

We have found a place where neither the photographer’s lens, nor the novelist’s pen can capture its striking, natural wonder. As quaint as Dingle town is, so majestic are its shores and landscapes. We stayed two nights here, at the Dingle Harbor Lodge, and capitalized on the few rain-free hours to tour the incredible surroundings. The two hour tour around the Dingle Peninsula, The Ring of Kerry’s smaller and less well known sister circle, was breathtaking in many ways. While I already said neither a picture nor a paragraph can do these scenes justice, maybe with the help of both, I can give you a glimpse.

Ireland’s southwestern landscape is one like I have never seen. I have seen mountains and hills and cliffs. I have seen forests and lakes and oceans. But these ingredients have never combined to form the dramatic panoramas that plaster themselves along the entire peninsula’s coast. Twisting our way through winding roads that drop off drastically just feet away from your tires, I saw lush hills of green on my right. The hills of Ireland aren’t a single constant hue, they are instead a patchwork; greens knit into deeper greens knit into browns and then, scattered like buttons across the entirety, are the greys of the boulders and the whites of grazing sheep. And yet the hills are just one piece of the quilt. Ahead of me, the black road winds through these hills and I can peer over to my left (just for quick glances, don’t worry Mom) I can see out over the ocean. This expanse seems, at first, a broad brushstroke of blue, but when we stop to take a closer look (see, safety first) we can really see. The water on this day was crashing itself aggressively against the sides of the cliffs, the clash of water and earth resulting in white surf, spouting high into the air and collapsing again on itself. The water, which seemed so clearly and vibrantly blue from afar, shows its depth upon closer look, where the blues and greens and blacks swirl together. The most stunning aspect of this vista, however, is simply the combination of the two. The hills jut out of the water, not just where they ‘belong,’ but hundreds of yards into the ocean, scattered like forgotten crumbs.

At one pull-off, I just couldn’t help it. I sprinted (ok, maybe awkwardly crawled) to the top of a nearby peak. Although it was a small peak, yes I’ll be honest here, from it I could see out over the ocean, over the hills, over the islands and over a small town nestled amidst the protective landscape. And I truly couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that beauty like this existed and that I was there to see it. It made me want to see more of it and see it everywhere, and that new sense of perspective, that renewed sense of wanting to see, may be the most beautiful thing of all.

P.S. Sorry for the delay in writing, it has been very difficult to get internet...

Rain, Rain Go Away

We would love to say the last two days have been JAM PACKED with fun, exciting travel-type things. Seeing amazing sites, taking incredible tours and just generally doing the things that one is supposed to do on trips like this. Well, things haven't quite gone our way the last couple of days. Ireland has, unfortunately, had the rainiest summer in 50 years...and its continuing. Almost every morning we have woken up to pouring rain, cloudy skies and general dreariness. We have pretty much maintained our high spirits and positive attitudes, donning our rain gear and slopping through the slippery cobblestone roads. However, this morning we hit a wall. Whitney called into me from the bathroom saying 'is someone vacuuming outside our room?' I replied, 'No, that's just the wind and horizontal rain hitting the side of our hotel (I use that word loosely). It should let up...next week sometime.' So all that to say, we are pretty much running from dry spot to dry spot, attempting to keep our newly cleaned clothes (we did laundry a couple of days ag0), clean for as long as possible.

While we are (apparently) sitting amidst one of the most beautiful landscapes in Ireland, we have not been able to get quite as many picturesque views as we were hoping for. The sun set, last night, over Dingle Bay and it was a stunning sight. The rain had cleared and the clouds were drifting away from the sleepy town. We sat and watched it disappear over the horizon from our little bay window view. However, we think we may have had enough of the weather and from what we have heard, it doesn't look like it will change any time soon. So, we are planning to change the itinerary a bit and seek the sunnier and warmer spots of Portugal and Spain. We will be doing the Waterford Crystal Factory here in Ireland tomorrow, but then venturing to Dublin to return the car and fly out.

As I posted in my original post, I never want to appear as though this trip is drudgery or painful, but with that said, life continues. We have our ups and downs each day. Whether it be hiding from the weather, or trying to make it to our train on time, or munching bread and meat from the market rather than sitting down to a three course hot meal, this trip brings with it trials like any other day. Let me explain. When we began planning this trip many, many months ago, I (Michael) felt as though all my worries and cares would disappear if I put an ocean between myself and my previous life. Instead, worries, trials and annoyances seem as frequent here as ever. I have come to a more clear understanding that my goal should not be to seek a place where the worries are less, but rather seek the best way to deal with those worries. I think I am on the cusp of learning an incredible lesson, one of the many (hopefully) that I learn abroad. Dealing with worry is not the same as eliminating it. I have stopped praying as much for God to remove my worries, as to help me see Him through them. Knowing that my end goal is to be shaped by these experiences, I realize that coasting through an incident free six months will do little for that goal. With that in mind, we are trying to embrace, rather than avoid, the annoyances, the worries and the problems we face. We hope then, that God will work in our lives, grooming us for better things.

The Ancient Side of Ireland

Well, the music in this internet cafe is atrocious and doing nothing for my concentration so bear with me through this post. Yesterday was a breath of fresh air. First of all, it wasn't pouring down rain the entire day, so that was a nice change. Second of all, as it was our last chance to say goodbye to all of the Greystones favorites that we had come to know (or at least love), we made a stop at the YMCA where I had done my studying while at Taylor. Hoping simply to drop off a note for one of my New Life Academy students, instead we spent an encouraging and heartwarming two hours with Lisa and Jon, the leaders of the Y. They were both interesting and interested and we were able to speak candidly and comfortably while sipping a cup of coffee. I think we both felt refreshed, so the delay in our departure from Greystones wasn't so bad. We were heading to Galway, which is as opposite from Dublin as we could be, straight west coast. On our way we were planning a stop at New Grange, the site that is actually older than the pyramids at Giza, chalk one up for the Emerald Isle on that one! After driving on roads the width of American sidewalks and going up and down hills like American rollercoasters we finally arrived at the tourist center of New Grange. It is a site that if you were completely ignorant of its history would, quite frankly, be a little boring. But with some enlightenment from our very Irish tour guide, Rory, we grew to appreciate the incredible complexity of the site. New Grange is over five thousand years old and it is believed to be either a tomb or a temple having a very special regard for the sun. That's right, back in the day the people didn't have weather forecasters telling us (or should I say guessing) what the weather will be like tomorrow. With the absence of these invaluable persons, they were pretty much crossing their fingers every fall that come springtime, the sun would actually show up again and give them all of the life-giving type things that the sun gives. So this temple was designed in such an incredibly precise way that every year during the five days of the Winter Solstice a steady stream of light, shining for 17 minutes around nine in the morning, pierces the otherwise black darkness of the inside of New Grange. With this information, and a slightly claustrophobic and startling moment of darkness inside the tomb, we were able to better understand the neolithic people as well as better appreciate the mathematical-type precision with which they built this structure.

We arrived in Galway around nine o'clock, after more of those grrrreat roads I mentioned, and were greeted by our incredibly gracious and kind host, Theresa. We took a small walk down the street and decided we had had enough for the day. Waking at the earliest hour since our horrendous 3:45 in Norway, we rolled out of bed around eight this morning and scarffed down some of Theresa's incredible breakfast. Our sights were set on the Aran Islands, a picturesque place, practically untouched by time and the only remaining place in the world where old Gaelic Irish is still spoken. After a bus ride and just under an hour on a ferry, we rented bikes and wandered all across the island of Inish Mor. The landscape was unique. Stone fences, dividing up plots of land like a broken and tattered checkerboard, lined the roads as well, guiding us up through the hills towards the highest point around. The cliffs from that site were incredible, over 30 stories high, and the kind of place you don't want to be if a stiff wind were to come. We took tons of pictures and turned back, coasting down the hills, sometimes quivering in our bike seats, fearing for our lives as the tour buses twice as big as the roads seemed to accelerate towards us. Anyway, we made it back into Galway and had an incredibly Irish meal at the local Supermac's (you may think that sounds a bit like a fast food joint and you might be right). Not sure what's on the agenda for tomorrow, but somewhere on the list: saving some $$$! This exchange rate is brutal! Nighty, night then...

Some Pictures! Guiness Factory, Aran Islands and Powerscourt

Staying in Greystones, Home Away From Home

Well we've drank a Guiness, downed a meal of fish and chips and tried blood pudding...we must be in Ireland! Arriving to Dublin yesterday morning, after 7 hours of travel and a 3:15 am wake-up call, we left the airport and headed for Powerscourt. This is one site that you have surely seen already, even if you haven't stepped foot on the Emerald Isle. The picturesque courtyard is a stunning scene from The Count of Monte Cristo, we walked the same steps that the count landed his hot airballoon on. The beauty cannot be conveyed through film, nor through our camera lens (although we sure tried!), the landscapes are immaculate and inventive. We strolled leisurely through forests, Japanese gardens and flowerbeds, even a pet cemetary! We then made our way to Greystones, home of Whitney's study abroad program in college, and settled into our somewhat musty, but comfortable-enough B&B. It looks right over the Greystones Harbor. We walked through the town, gobbled down our Fish and Chips and washed it all down with some Club Rock Shandy. It was a perfect Irish ending to our busy and strenuous day.

Today, the Guiness Factory was number one on our To-Do list. We are pretty much brewmasters now and are thinking of taking over Mr. Guiness' operation. The museum was amazing, informative and how can dislike a tour that ends with a free brew? Whitney didn't partake, a Coke sounded more refreshing. We sit and sipped while viewing the city of Dublin from high atop the seven floors. Hopping back on our very touristy bus, we rode it to the Kilmainam Gaol (pronounced Jail for those of you non-Gaelic speakers) where several of the rebels from the 1916 Easter Uprising were executed. The committment to their cause was staggering and inspiring. We wondered what we would do under such strains. This is being written from an Internet cafe, our first in Europe, but we're about to miss our train, so off we go!

Uff Da! Beauty in the Land of the Vikings.

Well, as Whitney so sensitively described in her previous post, the start to our Norway leg was a little rough. After I recovered what little pride I had left after forcing my bride into our 7X7 ft. room (is it getting smaller every time we talk about it?), I coerced myself into enjoying what was left of our fun in fjords. Let me tell you, it wasn't a difficult task. Upon waking in Flam, the landscape of the previous evening, mostly just large peaks shrouded in the looming darkness of the late hour, turned to a breathtaking beauty with the break of dawn. Guided by our new Irish friend Mr. Bannon, we dipped our Cigg water bottles into a nearby stream and tasted some cold, fresh Norwegian water. After checking out of our hotel, we grabbed a $13 cup of coffee and parked ourselves on a bench with a view. We watched the tourist groups come in and go out, watched the sun scribble new pictures across the mountainside every hour and sipped in utter amazement. What we saw from the shore became simply more stunning from the water. Once on the ship, we headed for the very Scandinavian-sounding village of Gudvangen. The two hours at a snails pace was perfect; Peaks jutting straight up, off the cool, deep green-blue of the fjord; "Towns" of three houses and a barn, nestled in cool patches of green grass between hills; And on, and on it went. From Gudvangen to Voss by bus (views continued) and from Voss to Bergen by train. This time I had taken absolute charge and not only did we have a place to spend the next three nights, it was a NICE place. From where I sit, I can see directly out into the fjord on which Bergen sits. We could smell the fish from the moment we arrived and while today was rainy and spent mostly bustling from one tourist trap shop of trolls and wooden horses to the other, yesterday was gorgeous. We rode the funicular (a train, set up at angle to crawl up the steep slope of the mountain) to the top and overlooked the city. We met a man, with whom we chatted for hours, but that story is for another day. Come check out the fjords someday, you will not be sorry. Oh and we're leaving at 3:45 am tomorrow for the Emerald Isle. So...goodnight.