Kinsale

We spent a few hours in Kinsale Saturday, in the rain.

They were expecting us, from the looks of this backpack. They got it slightly off: MSU colors with U of M's logo. They don't know how wrong that is.

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Killarney

Today we spent the day at Killarney National Park. Two hours on the three lakes, two hours in jaunting cars through the valley and the Gap of Dunloe. If you want to read more about Killarney, go here.

Theresa always climbs.




Do you believe this? Our driver, below, was wearing a University of Michigan shirt! We told him we might have to make him change his shirt before leaving the shore. Well, we promised we'd bring him a proper Michigan State University shirt next year.

Ginnie/Boots, this one is for you:

Heather, this one is for you:


This is Inge and me at the monastery ruins on Inisfallen Island:


Then we got on the jaunting cars. These are two of our students, Trevor and Mike:

Heather, this one is for you too:

This is our driver, Michael, letting Nelly get a drink:

Here are Inge and Glen, giving Nelly a little love after her hard work for us:

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First days in Ireland

We arrived after a long trip. 4-hour bus from Michigan to Chicago, 7-hour plane from Chicago to Dublin. 4-hour bus from Dublin to Cork.

On the way to Cork, we stopped at Cashel. This castle/monastery sits atop the Rock of Cashel.


In Cashel town, there are quaint buildings, like this thatched cottage. (The Irish say "tached.")

Gotta protect the beer.



We arrived in Cork and our lodgings at Victoria Lodge, part of University College, Cork.

We walk through a residential neighborhood to the rest of campus. Most of the houses are named, rather than have a street address. I thought the name of this one was clever (think "anvil").



That was yesterday. Today we traveled a short train ride to Cobh, the coastal town where 3 1/2 Irish immigrants migrated away from Ireland between 1855 and 1950. This is in the train station at Cork.

After arriving in Cobh, what happened next was rather astonishing. One year ago, on July 20, 2006, Don and I were in this same town, on this same study abroad program, and when we came around the corner to go down to St. Colman's cathedral, a casket was being carried out of the church. We watched the entire funeral procession file past, with 1,000 mourners walking behind the hearse. See my post about it here.

On the train to Cobh today, I was telling some of the students about that incredible experience. A 19-year-old woman had been murdered, and the whole town was in shock. My old time readers will remember it.

Today, we all walked toward the cathedral, came around the corner, and this is what we saw, again.

I stood, stunned, in the windy rain, umbrella blown inside out. My own insides were rather blown away too. This time the funeral was for a 70-year-old man who died of natural causes and lived a good life. I'm glad it wasn't a tragic death.

This is St. Colman's from city centre.

On the train back to Cork, several girls sat by us who had been at a wildlife camp in Cobh. We had a great little talk. The one on the left in the hat showed me three feathers she'd found. Sometimes I couldn't understand them in their beautiful Irish brogue. But we understood each other just fine.

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To Ireland July 23-August 4

I'm going to leave you with four Irish sayings.

An Irishman's Philosophy

In life, there are only two things to worry about—
Either you are well or you are sick.
If you are well, there is nothing to worry about,
But if you are sick, there are only two things to worry about—

Either you will get well or you will die.
If you get well, there is nothing to worry about,
But if you die, there are only two things to worry about—

Either you will go to heaven or hell.
If you go to heaven, there is nothing to worry about.
And if you go to hell, you’ll be so busy shaking hands
with all your friends you won’t have time to worry!

Murphy's Law

Nothing is as easy as it looks.

Everything takes longer than you expect.

And if anything can go wrong,

It will, at the worst possible moment.

The Irish...

Be they kings, or poets, or farmers,
They're a people of great worth,
They keep company with the angels,
And bring a bit of heaven here to earth.

Irish Men

There are only three kinds of Irish men who can't understand women— young men, old men, and men of middle age.

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Saturday night concert

They were dancing before the music started. Lots of kids. Some just crawled and rolled around in the open space. I wonder if they don't get out much.


When Peter started warming up, they really got into the dance. Ballet!


Then they started in full force to perform, the band, that is. And when they kick in outside like this, they really, really rock.

Peter even did one solo behind his head. Do you believe this is the same boy who would hide behind me when he was 4?

There were a few hundred people there in our university town square.

Don here, talking with the lead singer Brian's dad. That's Al in the back to the left, Peter's girlfriend's dad. We sat at Lou & Harry's restaurant outside, eating gyros and sipping $2 Long Island Iced Tea.

The whole band: Mike, Mark, Brian and our Peter.

By the end of the two hour concert, I don't know who were more tired, the band or the kids who danced. Actually, I think it was the band. And they had to go straight to another gig from here, to play and sing for another 3 hours!

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