Tynanwoods Day Four

October 17, 2006
Day Four: The adventures of Skippy McBrogue; Dan tries his hand at driving

We started the day by trying to visit the library in downtown Corofin, where there are Internet terminals. And in fact there were Internet terminals. But the library is only open three days a week, and this wasn't one of them.

It was cold and raining, so we set off in the general direction of Enistymon, with no actual agenda in mind. We paused briefly in Lisdonvoorna, modern and seemingly affluent spa town, so Ava could eat a snack and Dan could find a bathroom. This has become our regular routine; every 20 minutes or so Ava snacks and Dan pees.

We ended up driving straight through Enistyton to see more countryside and ended up in Lahinch, a cute little coastal city with two commercial streets, four surf shops and two WiFi cafes. It is apparently a surfers paradise (both sea and Net). Who knew?

We spent most of the afternoon in Mrs. O'Brien's Kitchen, a small restaurant/bar that offers wireless Internet (again at 6 Euro an hour). We ate lunch and drank tea while Xtina caught up on her email. (I'd left my laptop at home). By the time she was through it had stopped raining, so we explored the town.
Cole has taken it upon himself to master a brogue, so when he talks he sounds a bit like the leprechaun in the Lucky Charms commercials. He will also spontaneously break into a fair imitation of a jig (nobody here taught him that, it must be genetic) or will go skipping off ahead of us as we walk. Xtina has dubbed him Skippy McBrogue.

I inquired about the music in the pub, since it boasts the best in Lahinch and featured a constant soundtrack of traditional Irish music mixed with pop. An older gent somewhere on the north side of 60 was sitting at the bar, drinking Guinness at a steady rate and playing the spoons on his thigh along with the music. He asked what instrument I played and I told him "the stereo." I also told him I sang, but mostly to annoy the children. I said Cole and Ava played guitar and piano respectively, and he seemed impressed by that. Later he came by our table to talk to us a bit and impress upon the kids the importance of music. His name was John. He was a small man with white growth of beard and dearth of teeth.

As dusk was falling we made it to the Cliffs of Moher (pronounced "mohair"), a series of deeply impressive vertical hunks of limestone and turf rising 600 feet straight out of the North Atlantic. They are as breathtaking a site as you'll see anywhere on the planet, especially at sundown, shrouded in mist.

Unfortunately, the foothills directly adjacent to the Cliffs were under seige by a small army of heavy construction equipment, and the path leading to them was encircled by a tall chain link fence. The machines were there building "the Moher Cliff Experience," a space-age looking visitor's center -- as if seeing the actual cliffs were not experience enough.

More evidence that the Disneylandification of Ireland is well under way. Of course, as Xtina noted, if this were America the entire island would look like that, and there's be a McDonald's, a Walmart, and two Starbucks across the street instead of cows and rolling green hills.

Also: I survived my first attempt at driving tonight. Two miles from the cottage to the Off License (beer store) in Corofin and back, in the dark, down two largely deserted roads. No casualties to report.