Seth in Ireland

Swimming in the North Atlantic in March Swimming in the ocean is...

Sun, 22 Apr 2012 15:52:00 +0100

Isaac looking out over the beach

Leslie's first dip

It ended pretty quickly

Isaac gets his feet wet

And runs out asap

Leslie's second go at it

The sun had never felt so good

That water was 50 degrees...crazy kids

Kicking the wall on our way home

Swimming in the North Atlantic in March

Swimming in the ocean is a favorite pastime of many Galway natives. Given that the ocean temperature ranges from about 50 in winter to 60 in the summer, this is not a form of exercise for the cold blooded or faint of heart (like me). These pictures are from our first trip out to Blackrock, the beach in Salthill about 2 miles from our apartment that is the most popular place for Galway’s ocean swimmers. There is an open-air changing area and a platform with a few diving boards. From what we can tell most of the “regulars” were folks in their 50s and above, and then a few hearty youngsters.

Our friend Rita is one of those regulars, and after hearing about the concept of ocean swimming Kaitlin was not to be denied. Leslie, ever the supportive aunt, was willing to go along for the first time. It was sunny and about 55 degrees, with a decent wind blowing in off the ocean. Leslie jumped in first and was out in about 30 seconds. Then Kailtin’s friend Hannah showed up and they went in together for a leisurely swim (two, actually…about 5 minutes each). Not to be outdone, Leslie went in a second time to join K and H. Last but not least, Isaac rolled up his pants and went in up to his knees…that was enough for him.

Since all of this had to be documented, I played the role of official photographer and towel holder.

Kaitlin has since been back multiple times…must be that Minnesota thick skin. From all reports it is an exhilarating experience, but I’m just going to take their word for it.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE: PART 4

Sat, 17 Mar 2012 18:29:00 +0000

Isaac's marching band debut

Incongruously posh float

Good question

Who's your paddy indeed

The Galway Organic Gardening Society

No parade is complete without the bikers

ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE: PART 4

ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE: PART 3 Here’s a video of...

Sat, 17 Mar 2012 17:41:11 +0000

ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE: PART 3

Here’s a video of Isaac’s school parade. Isaac shows up for about 10 seconds in the middle of it…the cheers you here are from the Willamette and University of Portland students who came to watch the parade with us. The guy with the green head is Isaac’s wonderful teacher.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE: PART 2 There was definitely a...

Sat, 17 Mar 2012 16:28:10 +0000

The Massachusetts State Police

St. Pat chasing human rights abusers out

Thank you (in Japanese and Irish)

ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE: PART 2

There was definitely a carnivalesque feel to the event. The fellow in the trash can was part of a large group with mops on their heads and other cleaning supplies in their midst. The Massachusetts State Police were in a decidedly less playful mood…it was almost comical how completely stone-faced they were. Perhaps they thought they were in Belfast instead of Galway? Or maybe they were mad that I yelled out “Go Yankees” as they walked by.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE: PART 1 All of Galway turned out...

Sat, 17 Mar 2012 16:14:00 +0000

The rugby leprechaun

Hurling club

St. Paddy's: it's about getting ploughed

St. Pat chasing out the bank/snakes

Dolphin heads....of course

St. Pat the hurler

ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE: PART 1

All of Galway turned out for the St. Patrick’s Day parade. The streets were mobbed, and the parade itself probably had more than a thousand marchers. The diversity of modern Ireland was very much on show…with groups representing the Chinese, Filipino, Ghanaian, Polish, Lithuanian, Japanese, and Latin American communities. There were also a few explicitly political marching groups—my favorite were the zombie banks/snakes being chased out of the country by St. Patrick. There was also a more apolitical, yet equally jaunty St. Patrick who was using his staff as a hurling stick.

A tour of Cobh

Sat, 11 Feb 2012 17:31:00 +0000

Cobh (just outside of Cork) is a bit like the anti-Ellis Island of Ireland. It was one of the major departure points for Irish people fleeing the famine or other hardships and for political prisoners being deported to Australia. From the 1840s up through the mid 1900s, over 2.5 million Irish people left the country through the port of Cobh. The statue above represents Annie Moore and her two young brothers, famous for being the first people to be processed through Ellis Island in 1892.

Cobh’s other claim to fame is that it was the last port of call for the Titanic before it met with its tragic fate in the North Atlantic. (Word has it that the business pictured above has just gone under:) The picture below is of the last place where the Titanic’s passengers would have set foot on solid ground before getting onto the small boats that ferried them out to the big liner.

There is a good museum in Cobh that covers both the large scale immigration from Ireland and the history of the Titanic. One of the most interesting objects in the museum is this bottle that contained a note written by Jeremiah Burke who went down with the ship. The bottle originally held holy water, but was then emptied out and filled with a note that said “From Titanic, Goodbye all.” While it is not clear if this was a farewell note in a bottle from a dying man or just something he did as a lark as he was pulling out of port (the date could be 10 April when the ship pulled out of Cobh or 15 April when it went down)…I can understand why it freaked out the folks who later found it on an Irish beach.

Last weekend we traveled to Cork, the second biggest city in...

Sat, 11 Feb 2012 16:54:00 +0000

Inside Isaac's Restaurant

The view from St. Patrick's Hill

Last weekend we traveled to Cork, the second biggest city in Ireland. We were very taken by the city. It had a more cosmopolitan and bustling feel than Galway, yet more friendly and welcoming than Dublin. Gross generalizations based on a two day visit I know…but that’s the final conclusions we all came to.

When your son is named Isaac and he loves eating at restaurants…it’s pretty much a no-brainer that one would visit the highly-rated Isaac’s Restaurant when in Cork. It did not disappoint. There was a little alleyway next to the restaurant that dead-ended into a sheer cliff, maybe 100 feet high. It had a waterfall cascading down it and was lit up in purple. It is a magical site that perfectly captures the dramatic, hilly geography of Cork. We were so taken by it that we were inspired to walk up the enormous hill that loomed to our right as we walked home. The last picture is the view from the top of that hill…it doesn’t really capture just how dramatic the view was. You could see the entire city from up there.

A day on the Aran Islands (part 2)

Sun, 29 Jan 2012 22:06:00 +0000

While others crept to the cliff edge, I did my best archaeologist impression a safe distance away.

After our tour of Dun Aengus, we got back on our bikes and took the hillier “high road” back to the ferry.

Leslie and Isaac were a great team on the tandem bike, and it was one of the more beautiful rides I’ve ever taken. As you can tell from Isaac’s impression here, he thought it was pretty cool too.

We found a cozy pub for a post-ride drink…

And then went down to the pier to catch our ferry back to Galway.

The ferry was a bit choppy, causing Isaac and Kaitlin to vomit over the side.

Ok, not really…

As we were pulling out from the dock, I noticed the jet trails in the sky. Our Irish friend Rita noted that the west coast of Ireland is right on the flight path from Dublin to America. When she was young, growing up in rural county Mayo, she used to lay on the grass, look up at the jet trails, and imagine herself far away leading a very different life in America. When I see these jet trails they invoke in me no such longings to cross the ocean…we’re having too good a time here to want to leave. That said, I can imagine how someone who had spent their entire life on these islands would find compelling the prospect of exploring other, very different worlds.

A day on the Aran Islands (part 1)

Sun, 29 Jan 2012 21:53:00 +0000

Today we took a day trip to the Aran Islands, catching a bus at 9:30 which took us to a ferry which delivered us to the Aran Islands around 11:30. From there we rented bikes and rode about 5 miles to Dun Aengus, a 3500 year old fort built on the side of a 300 foot cliff. It has been raining, windy, and cold for the last several days so we were a bit nervous about the trip, but it turned out to be a sunny, dry, and calm day…the nicest weather for the past 5 months the bike rental guy told us. We boarded our bikes and took a leisurely ride out to Dun Aegnus, passing these genial goats along the way.

We then came upon a beautiful sandy beach, and even though it was about 45 degrees outside (and about 40 degrees in the ocean), Isaac and Kaitlin just couldn’t resist taking their shoes off and running into the water.

After a quick lunch, we took a 15 minute walk up to Dun Aengus. The view from up there was stunning.

Isaac once commented that in Ireland there’s “less padding” than in America. By that he meant that there are many public places where one can meet with serious misfortune if extreme caution is not observed. Dun Aengus is one of these unpadded places. There is a 300 foot cliff—complete with straight drop off into the ocean and certain death—that one can simply walk up to, and over if one chooses. No railing, no warning signs, no nothing. Given my acrophobic tendencies, I stayed a good five feet back from the edge, but other members of the party were more intrepid.

If the cliff wasn’t enough to keep out those pesky Vikings, then you’d think these razor sharp boulders, pointing out from the fort, would have done the trick. Unfortunately, it appears that several waves of invaders managed to get past these rows of defenses. And I suspect many an Aran Islander was thrown to his or her death off of these cliffs which they had backed themselves up against in the name of defense.

A weekend in the Gaeltacht

Wed, 25 Jan 2012 23:27:00 +0000

Last weekend I went with the students to Carraroe for a 4-day, intensive language school. We learned Irish, a language that (until last weekend) I really knew almost nothing about. Carraroe is in the gaeltacht, or a part of Ireland where people are bi-lingual, speaking Irish as their first language and English as a secondary language.

As you can tell from this video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jD-_l5p3MzI), Irish sounds nothing at all like English. In fact, knowing English didn’t really help us learn Irish at all. We learned to engage in friendly banter and count to 100, but it’s clear that becoming fluent would take a very long time. All Irish school children learn the language from an early age, and almost all public signs are in both English and Irish. In the 1870s, Irish had almost disappeared as a language, but the cultural and political revival of the late nineteenth century created a renewed interest in all things distinctively Irish (and decidedly not British)—and thus began the language revival along with the founding of the Gaelic Athletic Association which codified the rules for Gaelic football and hurling, two sports played almost exclusively in Ireland and well worth checking out on youtube if you’ve never seen them played.

Carraroe is a stunningly beautiful place. The region of Connemarra is known for its sublime landscapes of ancient hills, peat bogs, and rocky fields dotted with sheep, cows, and horses.

If I look a bit windswept in that last picture, it’s probably because I was standing on a wall about 1000 feet above the ocean with a 60 mph wind trying to knock me off my perch. Experiencing the cold, wet wind of a Connemarra January, I gained a new appreciation for why so many Irish people would want to migrate to warmer climes. Yet as you can see from the beauty of the land (and as we learned from the warm kindness of our hosts in Carraroe), it’s also apparent why so many of those migrants then found themselves wistfully dreaming about returning home.

Today we visited two tremendous historical sites. The top row...

Mon, 16 Jan 2012 22:30:00 +0000

Today we visited two tremendous historical sites. The top row contains pictures of Newgrange—a 5000 year old burial mound (built 500 years before the pyramids the promotional materials are eager to point out). This is one of those sites that pilgrims (of the more pagan variety) flock to because every December 21 the sun streams through the opening shown in the second picture here and illuminates a 60 foot long passage, at the end of which are three shallow stone bowls in which cremated remains were placed. It is a truly stunning thing to behold, and also quite the tight squeeze for a guy like me who is of decidedly non-Stone Age height and girth. The final picture on the top row is the view facing eastward. The little lump you see is one of the many smaller burial mounds that dot the landscape in the area. One fascinating thing about the site is that it is in and amongst several working farms…there are sheep grazing on top of 5000 year old burial mounds that have yet to be excavated, and perhaps never will be. It gave the place a distinctive feel, like it is not a place apart, but rather a still-living part of the landscape. I much prefer that to some hermetically-sealed site that says to the viewer “do not touch, this is part of the PAST.”

The second site we visited was Clonmacnoise, a ruined monastery that had been built around the 8th century and was sacked at least two dozen times by Vikings and a wide range of Irish warlords. The final insult came in the 16th century when the English (of course, the damn English) marched through and plundered everything not made of stone. The monastery is located at the most important crossroad in Ireland—the Shannon River running north/south and the main road between Dublin and Galway Bay running east/west. It’s a beautiful, tranquil location (as long as you don’t think about those marauding Vikings). I wished that one of my medieval historian friends was with me to tell me what I was seeing…but to some extent the devotional nature of the place speaks for itself.

Remember that awful song from the early 80s, Africa, by Toto?...

Mon, 16 Jan 2012 22:06:46 +0000

Remember that awful song from the early 80s, Africa, by Toto? Last week I’m sitting in the unbelievably depressing office they gave me at NUI-Galway (window looking out onto a wall, uninhabited freezing cold building on the outskirts of campus with the charm of a prefab mobile classroom, etc.) and I hear Toto’s Africa blaring from the building next door. As soon as the pseudo-dramatic intro ends, my tormentor who turned up his radio when this song came on starts singing along at the top of his lungs, horribly off-key. The one redeeming quality of my office, it’s quiet isolation, had been totally submarined…so I had to take one for the team and find a nice quiet pub to read in. Hate when that happens.

Anyway, the next day Leslie and I go to Kai for the lovely lunch described in my last post. On the way out, what do I see in the window of the restaurant, but this album cover. I hadn’t thought about that song (or been forced to remember that song) in at least a decade, and now twice in two days it pops into my life uninvited. Is it telling me that I’m not in Kansas anymore? Does it mean that my hair is going to grow back in copious, 80’s hair-band quantities? Oh what could it mean? Toto, please give me another sign…preferably a visual one without musical accompaniment.

At Kai Restaurant

Fri, 13 Jan 2012 14:28:00 +0000

At first glance, one might think that Leslie was contemplating one of my many brilliant observations, or some similarly weighty matters of metaphysics or political theory as we waited for our lunches to arrive. But in reality, this is what she was staring at over my shoulder with such calm, but ravenous intent….

We had been eyeing this restaurant (less than a 5 minute walk from our apartment) from the day we arrived, and with both kids settled into their schools comfortably, we decided that this would be the day to try it out. It did not disappoint at all…probably one of the ten most memorable meals I’ve eaten in my life, ever, anywhere. And this was only lunch.

Simple food, but perfectly prepared and presented. I had the lamb and chick pea tagine…which was clearly popular because by the time I took the picture above it had been erased from the menu.

I understand now why this was recently named the best restaurant in Ireland. And it is one of the delightful things about Galway that we could just walk in off the street without having to wait. By the time we finished eating the place had filled up, but when we first showed up a bit after noon it looked just like this promotional photo.

There are several places in Galway where you can hear...

Wed, 11 Jan 2012 20:23:12 +0000

There are several places in Galway where you can hear “trad” music every night of the week. One of the best is Tig Cioli, which is right in the center of town and about a 4 minute walk from our apartment. The place has great craic (pronounced crack)…meaning that it is filled with good feeling. Usually there are a couple of players sitting in the front entertaining the pub patrons, but tonight there were six, including a piper, a violinist, a mandolin, two guitarists, and an accordion. It’s impossible to capture the essence of the place, but this brief video gives a small taste.

There’s another place that I very much want to see but haven’t yet, called The Crane Bar. A taxi driver described it this way: “It’s a pretty crappy bar, but it’s got great crack.” With a recommendation like that, how could you not check it out?

The theme of this entry is “settling in.” The...

Wed, 11 Jan 2012 20:02:23 +0000

The theme of this entry is “settling in.” The picture is of Isaac doing his homework in his school uniform. Tuesday I walked him to school and witnessed a scene that almost made me cry with joy. I walked him into the large hall where all of the kids sit and wait in the morning. There are a series of benches that the kids sit on, and as soon as we walked in a group of boys on the first bench cried out “Hi Isaac.” The bench was full, but one boy immediately slid onto the floor and offered his seat to Isaac with a kind grin. It’s such a marvelous school…every day Isaac comes home full of happy stories about his day. Granted, some of them involve how dominant he is on the basketball court because none of his classmates have much experience with the game, but it goes beyond being the Shaq of the playground.

Now for my “settling in” story. Tonight Isaac and I encountered some tourists (he said derisively) who asked me for directions to a local restaurant. I was able to guide them expertly to their destination. Only nine days, but I’m feeling like a local already.

What a marvelous day we had today. At the Saturday market Isaac...

Sat, 07 Jan 2012 22:27:00 +0000

Cleaning the mussels

Enjoying the post-meal aroma

Not enjoying the post-meal aroma

The Spanish Arch

What a marvelous day we had today. At the Saturday market Isaac and I bought mussels for us to eat for dinner (Kaitlin and Leslie are not big mollusk fans). There were two types available—farmed ones that were nicely cleaned, and wild ones that were covered with mussel hair, barnacles, and sand. Isaac, ever the foodie purist, insisted that we get the wild ones. So that means we spent about an hour cleaning them before we could begin cooking. The guy at the fish stall said the best way to do it was to get a bottle of wine and just settle into it…I followed his advice.

The first picture is of us cleaning the mussels, the second is of Isaac enjoying the aroma of the shells after we had devoured them, and the third reflects Leslie’s response to the whole mussel adventure. It was the first time I had tried cooking them, and I must admit, they were quite tasty. It’s pretty hard to mess up anything cooked in lots of butter, garlic, and white wine.

After dinner we took a long walk around town…being sure to stop by two of the restaurants that we intend to visit more than once while we’re here. Ard bia (http://ardbia.com/about/) and Kai (http://www.kaicaferestaurant.com/) are each about a 3 minute walk from our apartment and look phenomenal. Ard Bia was the favorite haunt of our friends Matt and Wendy who were here last spring (shout out to you both!). Kai was just named best restaurant in Ireland by some organization that presumably has the authority to make such declarations. Ard Bia is right by the Spanish Arch (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spanish_Arch) which was built in in the 16th century. The final picture is of Leslie, Isaac, and I walking under it.

Our first trip to the Saturday morning market in the St. Thomas...

Sat, 07 Jan 2012 12:59:05 +0000

Our first trip to the Saturday morning market in the St. Thomas churchyard. Considering that it’s early January, there was a very good selection of vegetables. We found local, organic kale and carrots from the vendor on the top left, homemade donuts from the fellow on the top right, and a full table of delicious olives pictured on the bottom right. Leslie decided that my new nickname was the offensive gourmet because of how excited I was about the exotic foods on offer—in this picture I’m holding several stinky cheeses and a bag of local mussels that Isaac and I will enjoy for dinner tonight.

We will certainly become regulars at the Saturday market.

So much for the notion that Galway kayakers would wait until the...

Sat, 07 Jan 2012 12:36:00 +0000

So much for the notion that Galway kayakers would wait until the weather got warmer to get into the Corrib. We encountered these two brave fellows on our way back from the Saturday market in town.

Here is the view of the Corrib from the windows of our...

Fri, 06 Jan 2012 22:24:41 +0000

Here is the view of the Corrib from the windows of our apartment, looking to the left up the river, straight across the river, and then to the right out toward Galway Bay. The big green dome in the picture on the left is the Galway Cathedral, built between 1958 and 1965 on the site of the old jail. Yes, a big stone cathedral built in the 1960s. Only a few hundred yards away is St. Thomas Church, the oldest one in Galway built around 1320. It is now affiliated with the (Protestant) Church of Ireland thanks to Cromwell’s troops who came through here in the mid 17th Century and appropriated all of the big Catholic churches for themselves (but only after they ripped out everything they considered idolatrous). Stay tuned for closer up pictures of these sites.

This is the river Corrib that runs right past our apartment. It...

Fri, 06 Jan 2012 22:08:22 +0000

This is the river Corrib that runs right past our apartment. It is a short river (about 4 miles) but it is a fierce one. We hear that people kayak down it when the weather gets a bit warmer…I’m curious to see how that works out for them.

I’m surprised by how much I’ve been affected by living on top of a river that roars like this 24/7. Sometimes it makes me exhausted thinking about all of the energy being expended, sometimes I wonder if the next time I look out the window the water might just stop for a second, sometimes I wonder how that bridge has managed to stay put for a hundred years, and sometimes I wonder how people ever figured out how to survive in the presence of such a wild force—how to navigate it, how to build a bridge over it, how to confine it within stone banks, how to build apartment buildings right next to it that don’t fall down.