Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Wizarding World of Harry Potter, November, 2011
DISCLAIMER: If you are not fully cognizant of the HP franchise, you will not get a lot out of this. Just look at the photos and move on….
Hank and I motored over to Orlando with Valerie Jensen for a special celebration deal at Universal Studios. The occasion was the release of the last HP film on DVD for the public, and Universal had prepared a series of special events. They offered two packages for the weekend, a premium and a regular; the premium sold out within a half hour! Even though we weren’t in the most favored group, we still managed a very good stay, as I shall relate.
The trip was relatively uneventful; we played tag with a cold front all the way from Texas, so we were in and out of rain both days of driving, and our first day at HP World was definitely jacket weather. The rest of the time it was in the 80s. Same thing happened on the way home; we hit a good bit of rain, particularly at Mobile, but once in Texas, things were dry again.
Arriving in Orlando was a breeze; couldn’t believe how light the traffic was. We popped off the interstate, made three right turns, and were at our hotel. The Doubletree was across the street from the entrance to the Universal Complex, and even though it was a 20 minute stroll from door to actual door, it was a lovely walk through gardens and water features. We checked in, dumped the Hankster for a nap, and Valerie and I headed over to case the joint. We picked up our package set of tickets, but couldn’t enter HP World until the next day, so we wandered around “City Walk” which is a complex of restaurants, clubs, and shops lining the path into the actual park. We headed back eventually to the hotel, grabbed Mr. G for a light meal at the bar downstairs, and headed up for an early night.
Two of us had trouble sleeping (adrenaline was almost tangible) so we were up in the wee hours, ready to go. Mr. Gupton was, of course, confused as to why we had to be there in the first place, but managed to cope and walk over with us. As we moved through City Walk, we stopped long enough for a photo op of Hank surfing. We entered the complex at about 8:30. (Our special passes allowed all Potter nuts to get in before the park actually opened. Park personnel blocked all the entrances to every other section, funneling us directly to the back and to HP World – as if we would have gone anywhere else…)
First sight through the trees (well, the jungle – HP World is separated from Jurassic Park by a change in vegetation from tropical to Scottish firs) was the castle. It’s enough to stop you in your tracks, and did a good job, judging from the bottleneck of cameras. The bridge crossing over into Hogsmeade (the village) and Hogwarts (the castle/school) was a perfect photo op, and all day, everyday, people were clogging the bridge to take advantage of it. The photos here don’t do it justice; it’s colossal, and looks absolutely authentic, not to mention true to the films.
But we already had a plan, and the castle was #2 on the list. We dashed into Hogsmeade to line up for Ollivander’s Wand Shop. Thanks be to Adrienne, who told us about this! After a short wait, about 20 of us were ushered into the dark interior, and greeted by the wand master himself. He selected a darling 10 year old boy in Hogwarts vest and tie to become the chosen one. Ollivander, using his skill from centuries of trying wands on young wizards, then attempted to discern the right wand for this boy (The wand always chooses its owner, of course, but Ollivander is pretty prescient by now). The lad’s first try broke a bookcase; the second rang all the bells all over the room. But the third caused a rush of air, light broke through on him from above, and he stood in awe with just the right wand in his hand. We were then escorted through the door to Dervish and Banges, where we could all get our own wands or move on out.
We chose to hustle to the castle, for the Forbidden Journey ride. This was our first indication that the Hankster might not have the best weekend. They have set up seats for the ride outside to try out, and if you don’t get the arms down on the seat, you can’t ride. Mr. G didn’t have a chance – it didn’t even click once, and it had to click three times. However, because he wasn’t riding, we got to go through an alternate path on the castle tour. Before we did that, though, we faced the Locker Challenge. Every loose item has to be stowed during the ride, and interactive computers with touch screens and finger i.d. open and close the lockers for you. (Note to everyone: it will help to remember your locker number…). After that, we were whisked on an elevator to the alternate route through the tour. We watched the Hogwarts school creators (Godric Griffyndor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin) needle each other as they sat in their portrait frames. We visited Headmaster Dumbledore in his office and he told us about doing the right thing while he looked for a book that kept floating around. We stopped at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where Harry, Hermione, and Ron snuck in using the Invisible Cloak, and worked out a deal to meet them to ride broomsticks. Ron made it snow (he’s getting better at his spells, but still a bit dodgy, you know).
We were almost to the ride when we were stopped by the Pink Lady, the portrait who guards the entrance to Griffyndor House. She went on a bit, then sent us off with a roaring, “Go Griffyndor!). Finally, the ride, but not before we tucked Mr. G into the Child Swap room to wait for us. Valerie and I locked in, Hermione sprinkled a flying charm on us, and we were off! Harry and Ron met us on their brooms and we started over the castle roof, but Hagrid told us to look out for one of the dragons who had broken his chain. Sure enough, the dragon showed up, and sent us on a merry chase. We ducked inside the roof, and could hear him scraping the tiles off and see the flames as he was passing. We wove in and out of the castle, ending up at the Quidditch Pitch in the middle of a match. Harry and Draco got into it, and we followed them through the inside walls, missing the beams by inches. Then we hit a mess of Dementors, Aragog the Spider and his minions, and finally arrived back at the castle to be greeted by the students and Dumbledore. We retrieved Gupton and headed on out, through the locker rooms into another gift shop (Filch’s Emporium). We had to sit for a bit; Valerie was woozie, even though she had kept her eyes closed. I had held onto my glasses with both hands, but believe me, everything moves so fast, and at such a precipitous angle, that you get disoriented very rapidly.
Now I have to relate some of the goings on for our special weekend. The Today Show was filming at one end of the Village, effectively blocking off several special spots. Several hundred fans were roaring the whole day around that area, hoping to be on tv. The show also usurped a lot of the usual programming that went on elsewhere, so we didn’t catch that till the next day. There was another temporary platform set up near The Three Broomsticks restaurant in the middle of the village, and interviews were held there all day. A third temporary platform was near the castle, with similar activity. (I saved this bit for now) As we came from the wand event and headed to the castle, I looked at the stage and said, “That’s a Weasley!” Valerie came up and just then, the Weasley stepped down into the crowd, surrounded by about 20 sunglass-wearing guards. It was RON! (aka Rupert Grint) and we just managed to be in photo shooting distance hardly more than 5 feet away. He was obviously delighted at his reception…and after that, we became star spotters.
After that bit of a high, we headed over to the Ride of the Hippogriff. The lines were starting to get longer, of course; all the early special event ticket holders were by now joined with regular Potter fanatics. I decided that there must be something to the Weasley factor; there were a larger than average number of red-heads all weekend, of all ages and color ranges. And the clothes – tons of school robes, ties, house scarves, vests, socks and hats. Then there were the folks that did the tee shirts. More neat sayings than you had time to read. It eventually got warm enough for me to whip off my jacket, and I got a lot of thumbs ups when people started reading my hand-made tee: “Chuck Norris’ Patronus is Neville Longbottom.”
The line for the Hippogriff winds you past Hagrid’s Hut, with lots of appropriate hooty sounds and rustlings in the bushes of unknown species. Small children in line were peering into the woods, trying to get a good look at bowtruckles and such. Getting to the ride itself, you pass by Buckbeak’s huge nest, with Buckbeak perched on it, nodding back and forth as the cars pass. The ride is a smaller roller coaster (no upside down stuff) and looks as if it’s made of wicker, with a hippogriff head stylized on the front. Second downer for Mr. G: Valerie and I squeezed our hippy butts into one car, and Hank got his own. Getting out after the 60 second ride took longer than the ride; Hank had me pulling him on one side and another guest pulled on t’other, heaving him out of the little cars. You not only had to get up out of the car, you had to step up to the platform. The Gup was not amused.
We wandered back through the village. Stopped for over a half hour in front of an archway guarded by security in those ways that let you know that VIPs are hiding behind. So we waited. We were eventually rewarded by seeing one of the directors and a producer, but unfortunately, no actors in evidence.
We were right next door to The Three Broomsticks, and it was just about time for lunch (a very early lunch) so we headed in. The place was mammoth, but accommodated us quite well. Food was sort of old school British, but edible! Got a photo op of the broomsticks inside as well as out. They had a bar near where we sat to eat, and they had real beer on tap (as well as butterbeer – they sold that everywhere) but Hank said he didn’t want to sit and drink while we played, so we moved on.
One of the other special programs was a series of Q&A events with some of the actors. You never knew which ones were there at HP World until you saw them on the temp stages or at the Q&A sessions. We had tickets for the first session, and headed out of Hogsmeade over to a huge ampitheater in another section of the park. We had to cross through Jurassic Park and the Cartoon Land areas to get there, and Hank started having trouble motivating. We’d move 30 feet, sit 10 minutes. Rest, repeat. Told him we’d do the session, where he could sit for an hour, then we’d take him to the hotel, since the session was on the way. He missed some of this; we finally got him to the session, where we lined up for nearly 45 minutes before we moved into the ampitheater. He couldn’t believe we had to line up just to leave….
Okay, everyone sitting. Huge screen, director chairs lined up on stage. Preliminary video about the last day of shooting, cast and crew all crying, making speeches, hugging, very emotional stuff. Then we find out who’s there. The actors playing Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Cho Chang, Lavender Brown, and Bill Weasley were in our group. So interesting to see them as grown ups, out of character, talking about their lives. One of the most interesting stories; the actors that became Seamus and Neville went to the audition and it took a while to decide who would be Seamus and who Neville. Cannot imagine them being switched!
Questions were asked by audience members and by people from Facebook, who were watching. The actors talked about their auditions, their fav moments in the films, their best lines, and which character they would like to be if not their own. It was grand.
Then we left, and Hank could go no farther. He and Valerie sat while I trucked up to the front of the park, rented a wheelchair, rolled it to the incapacitated hubby, and then pushed him up and down over bridges, in and out of weaving paths, till we got him to the front of the park. Then we stopped to pick up our commemoratives: a set of all 8 HP films in blu-ray, and wearable pins commemorating the weekend. Then we crossed back through City Walk, returned the wheelchair, and hailed a cab. Got the boy ensconced in the room (by now it was almost 3:00 p.m.!) and he took a nap. We, of course, went right back!
Oh yes, butterbeer. Time for that most infamous subject. In the morning, I had purchased my first. The young woman in front of me told me the frozen one (kind of a slushee) was the best, so I got it. Mind you, temp is in the 50s, wind blowing, I’m in a jacket. I think my throat froze for half an hour. But oh, that first sip… It’s a butterscotch sort of flavor, and they said it had shortbread in it as well. And there’s this sort of whipped cream stuff on top, also flavored. Diabetic shock material, but probably worth it. I bought my second one in the afternoon, and Val got her first; we chose the non-frozen just to check it out. I downed mine as if I were dying of thirst in the desert; Valerie did about a third of hers, then I valiantly offered to finish it for her. I literally couldn’t do it. It was SO sweet, and SO filling. Had to toss some away (now, I can sob about it…then, not so much).
I think around now we headed for the line to get into Dervish and Banges. And here, I need to do my grousing. The HP books are absolutely full of neat stuff. Stuff that could be used to great effect at HP World. Universal has done a bang-up job of what they have, but they needed to go further. What they have done is have, in effect, 3 rides, a couple of very brief floor shows, lots of photo ops, and TONS of shopping. Nearly everything you watch or ride leads you directly into a shopping opportunity. That’s fine, I get it, but oh, it could be so much more…still, judging from all the shop workers marching back and forth from their shops to the warehouses, I imagine the special celebration weekend people racked up an easy $100 grand in gross on the first day. When school robes go for $95, and wands are in the $30 range, and all tees are $25-50, and everyone has to have one of everything, you know it’s gonna be a good day for credit cards.
Second grouse: the clueless people. My husband is a great example. He was along for the ride, but piffled out quite early, really. HP fanatics come in all sizes, and sometimes it was the parents who were crazy for it, sometimes the kids, sometimes one of each. Ya just need to leave the clueless at home. We heard more people trying to figure out what the deal was, and the people they were with were trying so hard to keep positive without having to take an hour to explain, that they were losing the joy. Like my tee shirt: having to explain a patronus to a non-fan is complicated. Then they have to get the joke, which means they have to know Chuck Norris lore (which they usually do) and then they have to “get” Neville Longbottom. If you are a clueless person, and have read this far, I DO apologize, and will gladly expound to you, loan you my books, share my dvds, but please don’t do it at HP World while I’m leading you around… okay, back to my blather.
So, we’re in line to get into Dervish and Banges to shop. That’s how big the crowds are; you line up to buy tee shirts. The door was guarded by a very pleasant woman holding one of the Monster Book of Monsters, which growled and snapped at people as they walked by her. She warned us there was a bigger one caged in the store, and trust me, it made people jump when it started banging on the wires of the cage. We had a fairly short wait, and headed in.
Buying a wand is not as easy as pulling one off a shelf and heading for a cash register. You have to test wands, see, and get the feel in your hand. And there are a lot of helpful clerks who can guide you to the right wands for birthdays, anniversary dates, or something special, if you’ve a mind. Valerie struck gold on her wand with her birthday. Ash, very lovely. I tried my birthday; wand with skull. Tried my anniversary; different wand with skull. Decided I’d check out Neville’s wand, and fell in love (not with Neville, I’m already a goner there). Mine’s cherry, lovely twisted handgrip, 14”. I’ve been “flicking and swishing” ever since.
Now let me tell you about Hogsmeade itself. The scene is Scotland, and the setting is winter, with snow all over the roofs and crooked chimneys. The fir trees help, but other than the cool wind the first day, you do have to realize you’re in Florida, where the temp is less than Scottish. But the village is great, pretty much as Diagon Alley looks (although they don’t have the dark magic back alleys – yet). Stores that are open include Ollivander’s Wand Shop, Dervish and Banges, and an open-air Owlery with a huge working (creaking) gear moving clock and lots of owls roosting on the beams (including very realistic owl poop!) Then there are the Three Broomsticks restaurant and pub, Honeydukes Candy Shop, and Zonko’s Joke Shop. Filch’s Emporium is up at the castle, and that’s all the open shops. There are a bunch of shops that have window dressing, with notes on the doors about “back soon” and “out chasing bludgers” and such. Those windows are great to look at. The Quidditch window has the box of balls and equipment, and the balls bounce inside their chains; Gilderoy Lockhart beams in moving photo frames surrounded by his books at the book store. A second-story music shop window has a cello that plays scales and theme music. A mandrake screams in the window of the plant store next to one of those bulbous poisonous cacti. The dress shop has apparel that moves and the sewing machine works itself. Zonko’s has a great display of someone doing the Puking Pastilles. And of course, there are the Butterbeer Barrels everywhere, and street vendors selling fruit, pretzels, and other appropriate food items.
Then we have the costumed staff. There are a variety of costumes, depending on where in the park you work, but most relate to vaguely pseudo-medieval peasant garb or Hogwarts School garb. The train conductors look just the part of vintage Edwardian steam train gents, since they leave from London, and aren’t really part of the wizard experience. And the performers, who shall be noted later, are dressed like their roles in the movies. When you combine these folks with all the Hogwarts wannabees, you have a real atmosphere.
All of this wandering and viewing included stopping at the temporary stages to see who was on hand. We caught Mr. Weasley and Luna doing a series of discussions at one, and the director talking at another.
Somewhere in the early evening, Valerie and I headed back to the hotel. She crashed and I went downstairs with my laptop and snacked. Thus endeth the first day.
Day 2 began nearly as early, but it being Saturday in football season, I was fairly sanguine that the Gupton could manage to keep occupied with the tv and the beer and snacks we had brought with us. So Valerie and I headed back to the alternate universe. The media frenzy of Day 1 had disappeared, fortunately, so with the temporary stages removed, folks moved around a little better, and the space was available for the performers to do their usual shifts. We parked ourselves at the area near the castle to watch the first show of the day, the Frog Chorus. In one of the movies, you have an opening scene where the school’s glee club is singing “Something Wicked This Way Comes.” The difference with other glee clubs is that the bass line is sung by 20 pound frogs, who sit on pillows that are held by the human singers. We had a group of 4 singers and a director, with 2 frogs. Although they were miked, I was thrilled to discover they were going to sing a capella. They did a 15 minute show, singing some of the music from the films and breaking form to deliver a really cute rockapella number. They perform on the half hour, and alternate with the Triwizard Pep Rally. This program is done on the hour, and consists of the ladies from the Beaux Batons school and the Durmstrang Academy. The ladies, in their French blue uniforms and spectator shoes, do a ribbon dance, punctuated by floaty little “ahhhhs” which was most amusing. The Durmstrang students, in Slavic garb, performed leaps and jabs using 6 foot cudgels, and did a lot of grunting. Part of the act consisted of them glaring at the girls while the girls simpered. With all of these groups, there were opportunities for the audience to have photos made with them.
After that, we meandered down to the Hogwarts Express to get our photo made with the conductor. Thrilling moment: he looked at me and said, “ah, one of the Weasleys?” I told him I was distantly related. And we posed and got one of the best shots of the trip. We went back to the castle, because Valerie decided that she wanted to try the ride with her eyes open. Not such a good idea – she got off, and while I was shopping in Fitch’s, she quietly ducked behind a “staff only” sign outside and lost her breakfast. A staff person had intended to stop her from going back there, but his kind heart allowed him to hand her a rag!
We tried to go on the Pterodactyl ride in Jurassic Park, because it was a cross between a zip line and a chair swing kind of thing. When we got there, we were informed that adults could only ride it if they were accompanied by a child. I told them Valerie was my daughter, but she missed the height requirement….
Then we went over to Looney Tunes again, because I needed to get something Betty Boop-ish for Elizabeth, who was home guarding dad. That’s when I got woozie, but other than the sweats and dizziness, that was the worst of it. We tottered on past the big auditorium and grabbed a couple of stand-by tickets for the next Q&A. From there we headed over to Dr. Seuss country. This spot is one pastel colored fantasy, and it looks like every Seuss book you have ever read. It was totally charming, and we patiently waited so we could ride one of its rides, a little trolley that was about 30 feet in the air. It went in and out of the Seuss venues, talking to itself the whole time.
Then we went back to the auditorium, and made it in time to walk straight in. This time we had Dean, Seamus, Cho, and LUNA! Dean said they had gone out to karaoke the previous night. I can imagine have the crowd spent their Saturday haunting karaoke spots in the hopes the actors might show again. Luna’s voice was just like her movie persona, and she frequently said things that made you thing she hadn’t needed to do much acting!
We went through Hogsmeade again to get to The Lost World section, and did the Poseidon’s Fury show. Pretty cheesy – very 1970s video game kind of thing. Headed back to Hogsmeade, where they do it right. And just as we entered by the train, we saw another guy “do it right.” He and his girl were posing in front of the engine, and he popped down on a knee, popped open a ring box, and the girl burst into tears, with everyone cheering and doing the photo shoot. I told him it was brilliant!
Somewhere along here, they started setting up the red carpets for the big night event. We went into Honeydukes and Zonko’s Joke Shop, which were close by, and gazed in astonishment at the prices for the famous stuff from the movies. A Chocolate Frog, with accompanying moving picture, went for $10, as did a very small box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Jelly Beans. (for you Muggle-types, the jelly beans can have “normal” flavors, but may also be ear wax, booger, etc.) The joke shop had the usual rubber chickens and all, as well as the little puffball pets and some other items specific to the movies.
All through the day I had been spending money at the shops. I had fingered everything on Friday, so I knew what I needed (hah!) on Saturday. My backpack was loaded, and I had pulled my folding cane out mid-day so I was ready to move back through City Walk. We got as far as Bubba Gump’s, and Valerie and I ambled in for some shrimp quesadillas and some beer (well, I got the beer of course). Then we got back to the hotel, Valerie relaxed and I took Hank downstairs for supper. I had a bowl of soup; he had a set of mini pulled pork sandwiches followed by a plate of ribs. It hurt just to watch!
Sunday am, Valerie and I took another stroll over to the park. We went to the castle but just did the walk through and didn’t try the ride. Gave us a chance to stop and take good looks at all the rooms. Moved out of there and shopped again.
Stopped by the Hippogriff ride, and Valerie decided she wanted to try it again, so we went on, in separate cars this time, so we got our asses out of the cars like normal people. No motion sickness, either, which was a relief. Got better shots of Buckbeak this time, too.
This was kind of a bittersweet walk. We didn’t want to leave, but we had pretty much done everything you could possible do. They had a great article in the Orlando paper about the weekend and the actors, and I’m attaching it because they had some fabulous ideas for additional stuff to add to the experience. We didn’t get to see all the actors, but it was neat to know we were in the same breathing space, and that they were just as excited to see the full-size castle as we were. They kept mentioning it during the Q&A sessions, that it was so great to see something real, and not a blue screen to act in front of. Anyway, we waved goodbye, checked out of the hotel, and headed on home. Mission accomplished!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Anne and Lynette Hit the Old Sod - August, 2011
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| Get me to Galway! |
After years of talking, and months of planning, Anne (aka Annie McGowan) and I finally made the trip to the homeland in August of 2011. We had been green with envy at all our relatives who beat us there, but now we have equal bragging rights. And we weren’t as green as the island; it is truly, stunningly green, in shades from lime to emerald. The gardener in me was in raptures over the scenes and the plant life, and the medievalist in me was thrilled with the history. But first, to the generics…(oh, and apologies – this is encyclopedic, so skip over anything you don’t want to read.)
The tour: Anne had cleverly connived to get a tour with multiple nights at a few stops, so we didn’t have to unpack every day. It was the Irish Gold Tour, from C.I.E. International, and we definitely gave it 5 stars. Marlene Sullivan, our tour guide, and our stalwart driver Sean Reilly were in cahoots to give us the best all the time. They were so solicitous, so kind, and so amusing that it was a joy to be enclosed in our tour bus with them for days on end.
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| Anne and Marlene |
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| Sean Reilly and the Colleens |
There were 35 folks in our group, including 15 New Zealanders. The Kiwis had been traveling three weeks already through England, Scotland, and Wales, and would head home after this Irish jaunt. In addition, we had 9 folks from New York, 3 from Philadelphia, 2 from Baltimore, 2 from California, 2 from Florida, and us from Indiana and Texas. Most were extensively traveled, with the exception of Lucie and Margaret from California, who were just beginning the touring life. In age, we ranged from Pixie (a Kiwi) who was 86, down to Stacie from Philly, who was in grad school. Most were of the retired inclination, of course.
The weather: you have it here, folks: no longer will I believe anyone from anywhere who says “just wait five minutes, and the weather will change.” That ONLY occurs in Ireland, and it does so with astonishing regularity. Old Faithful has nothing on a place that can go from downpour to full sun in 5 minute intervals. It even hailed once! The amazing thing about our trip was that with one exception, all the rain occurred while we were sitting in the bus en route somewhere, or at night. We’d step off the bus and the sun would come out. There was truly some lucky Irish in that experience. It definitely was coolish and windy, though. Always jacket weather, and never above 65 degrees. Coming from my 100 plus Texas heat, it was awesome.
The food and drink: people warned us that the food wouldn’t be so hot. I think they must have been in England, not Ireland. Anne ate her weight in butter every day, on yummy brown breads and croissants. Meself, it was the salmon that did it for me. Smoked salmon on EVERY breakfast buffet, and options for salmon entrees each evening. Salmon was what was missing on my knowledge of the island, and it was a revelation! Salmon in the stained glass at the churches; salmon stories told by the tour guide. Salmon runs, salmon fishing tournaments, etc., etc., etc.
Traditional Irish Black--White Pudding Recipe
Ingredients:- 1 quarter pint of fresh pig's blood
- 8 oz. bread cut into cubes
- 1 quarter pint of skimmed milk
- 1 lb. cooked barley
- 1 lb. fresh beef suet
- 8 oz. of fine oatmeal
- 1 tsp. salt
- 2 tsps. ground black pepper
- 2 tsp. dried mint
- Directions:Put the bread cubes to soak in the milk in a warm oven. Do not heat the milk beyond blood temoerature. Have the blood ready in a large bowl, and pour the warm milk and bread into it. Stir in the cooked barley. Grate the beef suet into the mixture and stir it up with the oatmeal. Season with salt and pepper and mint.
Have ready two or three large roasting pans. Divide the mixture between them, they shouldn't be more than three-quarters full. Bake in a moderate oven (350*F. for about an hour or until the pudding is well cooked through. This makes a beautifully light pudding, which will keep well in a cold cupboard or fridge.
Cut into squares and fry until heated through and the outside is crisp, in bacon fat or butter.
Serves Six It is normally fried and is an essential part of a traditional Irish breakfast. Or-- for supper with fried apples and mashed potatoes.
WHITE PUDDING- White pudding is a variety made without blood, but using minced liver instead..
The ecology section: Tempered by the Gulf Stream, Ireland may have rain, but rarely cold weather – until this February, when they got over a foot of snow, which clung for days, which caused floods and killed the palm trees. Yes, the palm trees. Who knew?
And for those of you who know rhododendrons, and love their glorious bloom: they are an invasive species in Ireland, growing to huge heights, crowding out the natives, and causing all manner of national effort to eradicate them. They are so thick in the wild areas that you can’t see the trees. Amazing, but just one more example of a non-native escaping and naturalizing to the detriment of the true natives. (Master Gardener note - do I get intern credit for noticing all this? tee hee)
I made an effort to catalog everything blooming. This is the end of August, remember, and most of this stuff wilts from the heat in February in Texas. Hydrangeas of all varieties absolutely in every yard, public space, etc. Petunias, violas, yuccas, sedums, daisies, poppies, roses, geraniums, queen anne’s lace, lamb’s ears, dusty miller, heather, gorse, liatris/loosestrife, wild carrot, stargazer lilies, gunnera (sp), agapanthus, hogweed (cow parsnip?) monbresia, thistle.
Critters: there are 800 Irish deer still around, but we didn’t see them. Never saw squirrels or other small wild things. Birds a plenty, and I’m going to have to find a European book to check some out, since they didn’t look like some I know. Cattle and sheep abounded, of course. And dogs were in abundance. Lots of folks trotting around in every town and village walking their best friends, playing on the grounds of hotels, getting on busses, sitting outside in the sun. And every hotel had a statue, actually a bank, of a full sized Labrador, with a sign asking for donations to the assistance dog fund.
Day 1 – Dinah the travel agent drove us to the Indy airport, where we were surprised by cousin Dorothy Mack, who popped in to give us a sendoff! We got to the airport early enough to get an earlier flight, which allowed a bit more time between flights in Philadelphia. And then we boarded the plane. For those of you who had not heard me crowing for weeks, we flew first class. Both ways. My sainted mother and grandmother were probably spinning in their graves about the cost, but honestly, I hope never to fly that long again in anything else. Leg room! And the food! Anne had one of the best steaks she has ever eaten (she swears it) ON THE PLANE. And of course, they gave me free booze, so it was foregone that I’d like the flight… The menus we had on board (yes, we had options) were bilingual in English and Gaelic, our first indication that we weren’t in Kansas anymore. Failte ramhat ar bord – Welcome aboard! Okay, here’s my dinner: warmed nuts and wine for cocktails; the appetizer was sesame and soy marinated beef with Asian slaw; the entrée was shrimp with sundried tomatoes and herbs in orzo, with cheese and fruit for dessert (with more wine, of course). And 6 hours later, I had oj, tea, chocolate croissant, fruit, and quiche for breakfast. What’s not to love? And Cabal gals, I have added to my purse accessories – the first class folk got little clear travel kits, so I have 2 more!
Day 2 – Landing with Jet Lag. Arrived in Dublin, sat at the coffee shop in airport till more of our group arrived. Then we met Sean, our driver, and had a looooonnnnnnggggg walk to the bus parking lot. Got to the hotel, and had one of the few snags of the trip. We were there before noon, people hadn’t checked out yet, and the rooms weren’t ready. Everyone had to sit in the lobby/bar area for 2 hours when all we wanted was to crash somewhere. Anne and I opted for Mass at Blackfriars a few blocks away; virtue has its own rewards. At 2, we were guided into the bus for a driving tour of Dublin. Some snored, but we passed statues of Molly Malone, Oscar Wilde, saw the River Liffey, etc. Stopped at Trinity College, where we got in line for the Book of Kells, which was really cool to see in real life. Walked through the library above the Book room, and viewed tons of busts of famous Irish folk. My back started hurting some, darn it.
At 5:30, we were back at the hotel, rooms and baggage procured, for a get acquainted cocktail. Intros all around, Marlene gave us our marching orders, and we had dinner at the hotel bar – fish cakes and flan – and Jameson! Then a very early bedtime, which gave us the strength to bounce up for
Day 3 – Crossing the Island. No rain! Breakfast as noted above, but I had my very own teapot with loose tea in a wonderful strainer that came with the pot. Thought I died and went to heaven (never got another like it the whole trip). On the bus at 8, where we awaited the couple from Baltimore, who had missed their connection the day before. They arrived by taxi within 20 minutes, and we were off to Strokestown Manor, an estate in County Roscommon. This was our first chance to travel roads that were not multi-lane like our interstates, and it was a revelation in itself. No shoulders on the roads, and the lane widths are NOT 1.5 car widths, but just about the width of vehicles themselves. Day after day, it was a wide-eyed experience to have our tour bus passing not only cars, but trucks, tractors, or other busses. And if they were doing road work, well, Katie bar the door.
The manor house was 18th century, and had its original furnishings, including an amazing kitchen. We also happened upon the BBC filming that day, so we stood in for parts of their taping as audience (look for us on a PBS station near you!) Also on the grounds was the Famine Museum, a very moving tour through the history of the potato famine. Again, we were in luck with the BBC; instead of a walk-through reading the wall plaques, we got the tour from the museum director. It was one of Anne’s fav places for the whole tour. She had known of the famine peripherally, and the detail provided gave her a true understanding of the enormity of the disruption, and the ensuing diaspora of half of the population. (prior to famine, Ireland had 8 million folk – between starvation and migration, it went down to 4) This particular estate solved their problem; they hired four leaky ships and sent most of their tenants to Canada. Half died, but they didn’t have to worry about feeding them. If you saw Rosie O’Donnell’s segment on the tv show “Who do you think you are?” you know about the famine workhouses. Families were separated by sex and age, but at least they were fed. And other folk went to jail intentionally so they could eat. What a system. The Quakers came for a few years with soup kitchens, but left because the Brits were so inhospitable and of no assistance – even stymieing charity efforts. |
| Gardens at Strokestown |
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| Strokestown Interiors |
the Irish famine; they had photos and reminders
of Somalia, Biafra, and other famine-struck countries.
It happens all the time, and people need help everywhere.
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| Strokestown Exteriors |
After lunch of soup and bread (and butter and tea), and a tour of the restored gardens, we drove to Galway, with another break for ATM cash and Cruncheez, a candy bar of great popularity. Nearly everyone on the bus tried it. The rest had ice cream. Ice cream, by the way, was sold everywhere, and there were always people on the street eating cones or dishes or ice cream bars. Moving on, we began to see destroyed abbeys from the time of Henry VIII. Churches were kept and converted to the “new religion” so the Norman architecture still existed on those. Most of the churches have since gone back to Roman, with some notable exceptions.
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| The Bookie at the Bookie's! We got to Galway (the town of tribes) in time to get into a massive road construction project, so we crawled to our hotel. It gave Marlene a chance to discuss the current economic situation (14 percent unemployment, the banks brought low by speculative builders, a million housing units unsold, government bailed the banks to the tune of 3 trillion – sound familiar?) It was about here that we began to notice that Marlene, indeed everyone we met, tended to be very aware of both history and current events, and very political. And while we were crawling by houses, I asked Marlene about one with a sign reading “Cuchulain,” so she gave us the legend of Cuchulain, since she had time on her hands. I told her not to forget to give us Brian Boru later, and she obliged in a few days. |
Day 4 – Connemara, Fjord, etc. We both had trouble sleeping the first night in Galway, but so did everyone. Still dealing with the jet lag, there was a lot of napping on the bus between stops. Breakfast was the usual sumptuous buffet, so it was a good thing I was upping my fruit quotient along with the rest of the items I was stuffing down my gullet. Anne sensibly continued to stick to a pound of butter and a loaf of bread, mostly!
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| Connemara Quarries |
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| Loogootee Tribune visits Ireland |
First stop today was the Connemara Marble Visitor Center. Anne and I did our “Around the World with the Loogootee Tribune” shot here. The quarries were nowhere in sight, but the workshop was quite interesting. Our speaker was a guy named Ambrose (no relation to our ancestor) and he did a lovely job, intriguing us all enough so that we spent lots in the gift shop. The quarries are now only used for extremely high end flooring and things like cathedrals, but they use all the smaller bits for stuff like jewelry and souvenirs.
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| Anne at the hob |
The restrooms were in a building across the street, and normally we would have had a lunch there, but there was a schedule conflict. We got to see the lovely furnishings and the old-fashioned hearth, though. Another amusing thing was that we had crossing guards. The highway is so busy there, that they employ two young gents to guide us tourists so we don’t get run over. It felt like first grade again.
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| At the Fjord |
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| Can you say "Library" in Gaelic? |
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| Kylemore Abbey |
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| Anne on Galway Bay |
We returned to Galway and passed the areas of Salt Hill and Claddagh. Back in the 15th century, the Spanish regularly visited this port area for trade, and the “Spanish Gate” is still one of the sites. St. Nicholas Church is close by, and the story goes that Columbus stopped there on his way to the new world to snitch the map made by St. Brendon the Navigator so he could successfully cross the Atlantic!
From the hotel, Anne and I strolled past Eyre Square (official name: John F. Kennedy Memorial Park) and into a short stretch of Shop Street. Returning through a mall, we saw one of the pedicure places that has the little fish in aquarium tanks that you put your feet in so they can nibble all the dead skin off. There were several people taking advantage of the service…including a college-age guy who, from the looks of his feet, were giving the fish a run for their money – gross.
Day 5 – The Cliffs of Moher. Lots of things going on today. Marlene discussed the history of the Irish “Travelers”. If any of you have watched the series, “My big fat Gypsy wedding,” you know the group. The Irish gypsies aren’t Romany, they are descendants of the residents displaced originally by King Henry VIII during the upheavals with the new religion. These folks, rather than emigrating like in later famine times, just became permanent travelers, in Gypsy carts, and these days, in motor homes. Barricades are everywhere in lanes and fields to keep the higher traveler wagons from going in them and squatting.
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| The Cliffs of Moher |
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| Windy Cliffs of Moher |
We passed Kinvarra, a Norman castle, and began to see thatched houses. Marlene had a way with a joke, and we passed quite a time discussing a town that had an annual hooker festival. (Hookers are small fishing boats!) We also learned that we had spent the night before having Craic, pronounced “crack”. Craic means fun, laughter, singing, good times. So we had a lot of craic the rest of the trip. Marlene also started rolling out the cds, beginning with an Irish Tenor. Anne and I and a couple of others sang along to Galway Bay and Irish Lullaby. The Cliffs of Moher were stunning, and the visitor center there was exceedingly well done, handling loads of tourists of the individual and bus tour varieties with amazing ease. I finally conceded and drug out my cane, because to get the best views of the cliffs, you needed to do a serious hike. We were nearly ready to head for the bus and had just stepped out of the gift shop when we got a squall. You guessed it – five minutes later it was over, and we walked to the bus.
We didn’t have a proper lunch time due to the schedule, but Marlene had warned us, and everyone had squirreled fruit, bread, cheese, candy, etc. from breakfast and the gift shop, so we picnicked on the bus. I must confess, thanks to Dinah the US tour agent, we had been instructed to get Irish chocolate candy. Anne was testing every variety she could get her hands on, but ONLY if they were made in Ireland. She had her hands (and tummy) full doing all that serious work!
Our next stop was our true one-time rain out. Adare was a lovely little town with the requisite castle/manor house, along with a full string of thatched cottages. One of our NYC couples had cousins that they had visited the previous day (they went to the apparition in Knock) but Adare’s castle had belonged to Kathy Fitzgerald’s ancestors. We got out of the bus and into the visitor center, and the skies opened. Think of blizzards where you can’t see in front of you – that was the rain. And it lasted the entire time we were there, stopping only when we were to get back on the bus. Marlene was SO upset, but we all told her we had expected that sort of thing from day 1 and it had only happened once. Leaving the parking lot, we had to get through a major traffic jam, caused by one double-parked car. Traffic was backed up in both directions for 2 miles. Several gents looked as if they were contemplating picking the car up by hand and moving it!
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| Mottola at the Cliffs of Moher |
About this time, Marlene started in on Sean Connery. “Wouldn’t you smother your granny for him?” Had us roaring. And then she started on about weddings, and how she wanted to have her daughter married so she could wear a hat. Her daughter and honey have 2 children now, and she’s still waiting to buy a hat. She’s also looking for a 90 year old rich man with a cough who might want to get married….
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| Druid Stones - Beware! |
Then there is the hawthorn tree. Ireland, it seems, still harbors some series reservations about upsetting the wee folk. An international construction company was contracted to build an interstate. There was a hawthorn tree in the middle of the right of way. No Irish person could be found who was willing to let the hawthorn, particularly a lone hawthorn, be cut down – curses were sure to rain down, and didn’t everyone have at least one story about such a case? (John DeLorean did it after he launched his gull-wing car, and two years later, he was bankrupt. So there!) The road company took it to court, and the Judge ruled to save the tree. We passed the tree, which proudly stood in a stretch of highway where they split the lanes to accommodate it. So all ye who know of Hawthorne’s beware!
Killarney – the Brehon hotel was lovely upon arrival, and the weather held. Our merry crew hopped onto “Jaunting Cars” i.e., horse-drawn wagons for the trip to Muckross House, an estate in the middle of a national park. Each wagon held one authentic Irish drover, and ours talked so fast and with so thick an accent, even I, who perched next to him on the driver’s seat, could barely understand him. Quite the country man.
Day 6 – Ring of Kerry. We slept well, rising to a cool, damp day (what did you expect?) I was in agony – lost a bracelet I had just bought at the Cliffs. Marlene and Sean found it on the bus, hallelujah! Breakfast was quite good, but I thought the room smelled off – Anne said it was probably some weird spice or something. Marlene called this particular hotel the “place with the one-sided pancakes.” For some reason, they had small pancakes, but they weren’t browned on one side. Looked rather like flat cooked eggs. Didn’t bother to try them.
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| Skellig Monk Huts |
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| Portmagee Harbour |
The Moorings pub in Portmagee was where we ate lunch, and it had a great seafood chowder, washed down by Guinness, of course. Anne won a drawing they had for the group, and was given a local specialty – a selection of Skellig chocolates. With that, the group was off and running all over town to haul in more Skellig chocolate. I’m sure we got every flavor to be had, including a lovely orange fudge that Anne and I nearly had orgasms over – and which we could not find anywhere afterwards.
We had a short photo stop at a mountain pass, 700’ up, where we looked down over a round stone ruin of a fort, and the bay a few short steps behind us. The wind was so fierce, it was hard to stand! Our next break stop was in Sneem, where the little river flowing through town had a salmon ladder. Marlene popped a cd of the High Kings on, and we had merry music for a while.
Tonight’s dinner was at Killeen House (across the street from a church, remember your language lesson?). It’s a guest house and restaurant, and absolutely lovely. I had a chicken with balsamic in a phyllo basket for a starter, a coconut sorbet, the salmon, and bread pudding, with lots of lovely wine. A great ending to a very eventful day.
We had a short stop at Macroom to photo Macroom Castle, where our own William Penn was born. Then we hit Blarney, which included the Castle, of course, the manor house, and the Blarney Mills outlet. Anne blew the Stone a kiss; neither she nor I cared to trek the 109 steps up and down to get to it. I was in rapture over the Poison Garden, a collection of herbs that could be used to cure – or kill, depending upon your inclination. Anne kept muttering – that’s poisonous?
We had a cuppa and a scone in the stables, and then headed for some serious shopping. We really hit it big at the Outlet, and I finally found a 3X for my hubby, along with a onesie that looked like the Irish National team uniform for my nephew-to-be Declan. (November 9 is his date!) Then I had a milkshake to celebrate, and we basked, yes, basked in the sun till time for the bus.
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| Blarney Castle and Manor House |
Another site, another language lesson on town names: Cork = Corcaigh, meaning “marsh” and pronounced Korkey in Gaelic. Cobh = Cove. Youghall is pronounced, y’all. (I told her the plural – all y’all) And Marlene explained how she knew which cars were driven by tourists in rentals. All Irish license plates have the model year first, followed by initials designating the county or major city, followed by a specific number. I.e., 04-KY-69875 means it’s a 2004 model, from Kerry. Due to the economy, nobody has a new car except the rentals, so any license with a 10 or an 11 has to be a tourist!
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| Marine Bar |
We stopped at the Marine Bar, which was nowhere near water, but I had a glass or two of the water of life while everyone else drank theirs in Irish coffee. Then Christie, the publican, gave us a singalong while he played the guitar. As we left, the clouds rolled in. We passed a cemetery and Marlene explained what a “dead ringer” was. People were dying and falling into comas, and being buried quickly. Graves were dug finding where people had come to and tried to claw out. So they began burying folk with a string running from their hand to a bell at the top. If there was movement in the coffin, the bell rang. And that’s how Irish wakes began – someone sitting up all night with the body to make sure they were well and truly dead!
About this time, we learned of the arrival of the hurricane on the east coast. The New Zealanders were going to London, and the Florida folk to Germany, but the rest of us were headed into what might be serious trouble in a couple of days. The Philadelphia trio checked the web, since they were leaving a day ahead of everyone else, and found their flight cancelled. I think everyone quietly made arrangements to watch, and wait, and pray.
Day 8 – Not Done Yet. Excellent breakfast, more salmon, more bread, more butter, more tea! Off to tour the Waterford Visitor Center and the factory walk. For those never seeing glass blowers at work, it’s a rewarding trip. I was thrilled to see the ATP (tennis) trophies that will be awarded at the end of the season next month to the men’s singles and doubles winners. They also had a gorgeous vase with a Christmas tree on it I coveted, and a lighthouse for sister Jayma. I even saw a football helmet for the MVP for the NFL – it was only $17,000 Euros.
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| Anne and Paula at Fitzgerald's of Bally K |
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| Having a pint at Fitzgerald's |
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| Bally K Church at Avoca |
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| Glendalough Church |
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| Glendalough Round Tower |
We arrived at Dublin once again, taking a short detour to drive past the church where Mike, one of the Kiwis, was able to see where his parents had been married many years before. So thoughtful of Sean and Marlene! Our hotel on Stillorgan Road (in Dun Laoghaire, pronounced dun leary) was out from the city center, but was also one of the loveliest. It was an old estate, with lovely grounds (and a wedding going on as an example of how lovely). Our dinner was at Taylor’s Three Rock, evidently quite a major tourist stop. We were one of about 16 tour buses for dinner (must have jammed about 400 or so in the place.) Nearly everyone loved the singing, dancing, and the comedian. Alas, I wasn’t one of them. For me, it was a little too much stage business and not enough traditional. I likened it to Disneyworld. I know, I’m crabbing, but after all the wonderful stuff I had done, this saddened me. I have performed enough and done enough of the stage bits myself to know how artificial it can be, and I just didn’t enjoy it. And the food was so mediocre – I had to go for my 3rd choice of wine, and the wines were on the menu to choose from. Pooh.
Day 9 – Last day in Dublin. This was a free day for those staying over. The hurricane had by now moved past North Carolina, so Anne and I were pretty happy, since that’s where we were flying. The NYC folk were still in a holding pattern.
It was my last time for salmon at breakfast, so I did my best to hold my own. We had shuttle passes to town, and Marlene was there for the last time to see us off. We had passes as well for the Hop On Hop Off buses, and our first stop was Mass. We hit a lovely Baroque church (wasn’t a cathedral, but it was grand enough) in time for the Sung Mass as they called it. The entrance, recessional, and responsorial were in English, but the rest, including the Credo, were sung by a 14 member choir, who did them in Latin using a Baroque period Mass. It was heaven – I told Anne I was NOT going back, I was going to live in the loft and sing with the choir. After mass, the congregation applauded, something I haven’t seen since I sang with the Diocesan Choir in Houston. And then we got an organ recital.
Spoiled, spoiled – I am so spoiled. Left the church, grabbed the bus, did the full circuit, and ended at our bus stop to go back to the hotel. Headed in to the Orangerie, their lovely glass-walled bar, where we noticed a group having high tea. So we did as well, and Anne got her clotted cream, for which she had lusted (and mentioned) even before we left the states. Donegal was playing Dublin for the national semi-finals, and everyone in the place had their eyes on the flat screen, shifting to the lovely view of the gardens only when there was a time-out. (Dublin won).
Landed in Charlotte, no surprises, and Anne bought a TCBY, since she had refrained from the ice cream in favor of chocolate the whole trip. We made our first phone calls since leaving, then headed for Indy. And there in the terminal to greet us upon arrival was darlin’ cousin Dorothy again! Dinah pulled up to haul us home, and a merry chatter filled the car the entire trip.And so we end. A million thanks to Anne for sharing this wonderful journey to the old sod, and to my darlin’ boy Hank, who stayed home to guard the castle and feed the livestock.
We had a wake-up call at 4 am. Taxi pick up at 5, into the airport, where we headed for “Pre-Clearance”. Turns out that the US has a customs procedure at Dublin, so we didn’t go through customs when we landed in the US. It was weird going through emigration for Ireland and then 10 minutes later doing immigration for the US. Only the US made us take our shoes off. Oh, and then there was the little weirdness, due to my total forgetfulness. I had carefully packed ALL my souvenirs into my backpack, so I could pull them out easily if need be. I neglected to remember that I had a metal bottle opener, a cheese knife, and two cigarette lighters in there. And I made it through every single checkpoint with no questions. Either I didn’t fit the terrorist profile, or my folded up cane blocked the view on the camera.
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| Dorothy Mack welcomes us back |
Flight home, luxurious again. The appetizer was a chicken on a stick like no other I ever had, and enough to make a full meal. There was also a roasted red pepper with cream cheese that had Anne in rapture. And then there was the entrée, which by that time we were already almost dreading because we were full from the champagne, the nuts, the wine, (oh, you get it, right?) and Anne wanted to save room for dessert. Then before we landed, we got fed again. I shared mine all with Anne (a lovely bruschetta/pizza thingee, salad, etc., etc. and dessert, of course) since she was too full to get anything herself (tee hee).
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