Killarney Day Trip

September 14, 20132 Comments

We’ve spent the last couple of weekends laying low (really low…we’ve been sick). Now that everyone is back on two feet again (or, in Jacob’s case, two knees) we were itching to get out and do something fun. A few days ago I met some tourists from New Zealand who told me about an amazing place they had just visited–and I knew right away that it would be our next adventure.

Welcome to Killarney. Or, as I will be referring to it from now on, The-Most-Beautiful-Place-On-God’s-Green-Earth. It was fascinating.

It took us a little over an hour to drive out to Killarney–practically on our back doorstep. Killarney is part of The Ring of Kerry, a 100-mile loop through some of the most incredible scenery you will ever witness.

We started our day at the Gap of Dunloe, a narrow mountain pass that winds though a lake-laden valley. There is one teeny-tiny road that goes through the Gap, so you can’t drive your car through. Instead, many people were hiking (and, if we didn’t have two ticking time bombs called toddlers with us, we probably would have done the same). We decided to go with the other popular option, a horse-drawn trap. The trap was basically a small carriage with bouncy little seats and a friendly driver. It was wonderful. Before we got on our trap, David got to meet some of the live transportation:

When it was time to board our horse-drawn trap, we all climbed in and held on. Our horse’s name was Kinny (he was 12 years old and very good-natured) and our driver’s name was Dan (he was as old as the hills and called me ma’am).

The road took us through a grassy valley filled with sheep of every color. Well, the sheep themselves were mostly white, but they all had colorfully-painted backs. Each owner paints his sheep a different color to keep the herds distinguishable, and the end result was a rainbow of baaing onlookers as we rolled past.

We rode out to five different lakes, each enchanting in it’s own magical way. Everything was so pure and still and beautiful. The photos really don’t do it justice.

We paused for a walking break at one of the lakes and got to poke around some (400 year old) cottages. What a beautiful place that must have been to live!

We all agreed that our ride through the Gap was one of the most magnificent tours we’d ever been on. And, oh! Our day was just getting started.

From the Gap we drove back through the town of Killarney to Killarney National Park. The Park is huge–over 25,000 acres. We parked near one of the entrances and went in for some lunch and a little walk. There were beautiful gardens:

And a marvelous place called Muckross House:

The boys were starting to get antsy at this point so we decided to cut our time in the park short and head out to one final destination: Ross Castle.

I really can’t get enough of the castles here in Ireland, and you can see why. They’re incredible! This castle is perched on the edge of a deep blue lake surrounded by mountains. You can take boat rides out from the castle to explore the lakes and islands (one of which has the ruins of a 6th century monastery on it), but we were running short on time (that is, time before one of our children exploded).

Ross Castle was built in the late 1500’s as a personal residence, and today it has been restored for people like me to come and gawk. The castle is mostly intact, so there were lots of fun places to explore. We had a great time exploring the grounds and touring the interior of the castle. We may have even scaled a few rocky walls.

Thank you, Killarney, for the beautiful day and the incredible memories.

Wasp Apocalypse

September 6, 20131 Comment

For the last several weeks we have been experiencing what I can only describe as the Wasp Apocalypse. It seems like every square inch of Ireland is covered in wasps–and they just won’t go away. It’s gotten to the point where I won’t even go into my own back yard without toting along my trusty fly swatter (or, if I’m feeling particularly feisty, a baseball bat). I open my kitchen window to let in some fresh air and, within minutes, the room is full of buzzing, flying, crawling, stinging wasps. And it’s the stinging part that really gets me.

I have, shall we say, an aversion to bees. When I was a little girl I accidentally jumped on top of an active beehive, and I paid the price. Ever since that incident I’ve been pretty wary of bees and their stingers.

I hadn’t actually been stung in over a decade until I entered the Irish Wasp Apocalypse. A couple of weeks ago we were walking through the Medieval Festival and, out of nowhere, a wasp stung me IN THE ARMPIT. That’s a sensitive area! I held it together pretty well, though, and I did survive (I’m still pretty ticked off that I wasp would just come up and sting me when I was minding my own business, thankyouverymuch).

But even getting my own sting didn’t set me off on a rampage. No, that happened when they attacked my offspring. My poor, sweet little boy–how dare they. We were playing an afternoon game of “wack-a-wasp” in our kitchen (David’s actually quite good at it), and he’d just downed his most recent target. David was so proud of his successful attack. He brought me over to show me the wasp that fell at his fly swatting skills. He went to pick up the wasp carcass for proper disposal. The wasp wasn’t completely gone yet. It stung him.

You should have seen the look of shock and confusion and pain on his tiny face. And then the screams came. And came. And came. Poor little thing had never felt a sting before, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

After some quick first aid, an M&M, and a Pac Man band-aid he was on the road to recovery again. But I was angry. These wasps had not only infested our yard, our house and our lives, but now they were hurting our family. Enough is enough.

Thus launched my career as a wasp murderer. I tried to jimmy-rig my own diy wasp trap from an empty milk carton, but the dog drank all of the soapy sugar water that was supposed to attract, then kill, the little buggers. I tried setting out bowls of enticing foods to lure the wasps to a central location, but they must have sensed I was on to them and they flew right by.

So, I’m back to the fly swatter. I keep it in my back pocket now. And to any wasp who dares come near me or mine: beware.

I’m after YOU.

Stuff.

August 30, 2013Leave a comment

The moment we’ve been waiting all summer for has finally arrived: our stuff is here.

In June, movers came to our house in Seattle and packed up all of our belongings (OK, not ALL of our belongings…only the ones we deemed worthy of a round-the-world tour). For the last two months our “household goods” (the fancy term the using company uses for our “stuff”) have been traveling on a cargo ship through the Panama Canal and all the way across the Atlantic Ocean to Ireland. I’m sure if our dishes and bath towels could talk, they’d have quite the stories to tell us. As it is, though, they arrived mostly as they left us: in box after box of obscured treasures from our former life.

This was a pretty exciting day for us–we’ve been essentially living out of our suitcases for the last 2 months, and things were starting to get old. I used to love the 5 shirts that I brought with me. Now I hate them. I also hate washing the same 3 plates, meal after meal, because they’re the only 3 plates we have. First-world problems, I know… But, really, it’s great to have all of our stuff here again (I may not even have to burn my t-shirts in the back yard now).

When the movers got here, they gave us an inventory list so we could check off each box as it was unloaded from the truck. 89 boxes. How do we have so much stuff?

Once the boxes were unloaded, the movers unpacked everything from the boxes and took the empty boxes and packing materials back out to the truck for disposal. This was both good and bad. Good because we don’t have to spend the next 2 years recycling 1 box at a time in our recycling bin that gets emptied every-other week. Bad because they emptied all of the boxes. Onto the floor. And the beds. And the tables. And into the bathtub. Basically every square inch of our house was covered in…stuff.

Now, this wouldn’t be such a big deal if I could just sit there all day and sort and organize and put everything away. As it was, though, it was a Thursday. Which meant that Jon was working and I had two children under the age of 3 present to “help” with the unpacking. Thankfully, David was away at his first day of preschool when the movers came and Jacob took a nap for about an hour in the morning during the busiest part of the unloading. Once David got home, though, it was basically chaos. I survived by throwing as many toys as I could unpack into the back yard and sent the dog out to supervise the children while I sorted out the house.

My ploy worked beautifully, and I was actually able to put away everything from the boys’ rooms and the kitchen (our main “common area” in the house) before they caught on to my absence.

As always happens in a move, though, there were a few surprises. A few things that snuck into boxes that really had no place being there. A large floor fan that doesn’t work in Ireland. Enough hangers to supply Macy’s (that’s Debenham’s, for you Irish readers) clothing department for a year. A dozen tubes of toothpaste (perhaps I was thinking we’d need to brush our teeth 20 times a day here?). Lots and lots of…stuff.

For all the hassle that is unpacking, though, it was definitely worth it. I haven’t had to wash my dishes yet, and I’m wearing a bran- new (old) outfit today. But the best part of it all? Jacob got to sleep in a real crib last night for the first time in months. After weeks and weeks of waking up every couple of hours, he actually slept. Through the night. Which means I got to sleep through the night. Like a baby (a baby that actually sleeps through the night). It was…wonderful. It’s good to have you back, stuff.

Happy Birthday, Bota!

August 26, 2013Leave a comment

Today is a very special day: our dog’s birthday. Now a dog’s birthday may not seem like a big deal, but when you’ve just spent countless hours and thousands of dollars arranging travel for your dog to move halfway around the world–it’s a big deal. At least, I’m going to make it a big deal. Plus, I love any excuse to celebrate (read: eat cake) and I really do love my dog (thus my willingness to spend countless hours and thousands of dollars to move her halfway around the world). So, happy birthday, Bota! We’re going to celebrate you in style.

Bota turned 7 today, which is 49 in dog-years: she’s officially over the hill. If she were a human she’d already be scrutinizing her 401-K and buying a Harley Davidson. To us, though, she will always be our “baby”. It seems like just yesterday that we were bringing our tiny puppy home from the Christmas tree farm where she was born:

Bota is a trusted companion and she has been through a lot with us. She’s an expert at moving, and has helped us transition to 3 new homes:

She has been my hiking/running/exploring partner who is always up for an adventure and who never lets me sit around getting lazy for too long:

And she has helped us raise our boys (Dogs and boys are a great combination, by the way. They have a lot in common: both love getting dirty, running around in circles until they pass out, and conspiring to destroy my house one piece at a time).

Today we decided to celebrate our puppy-friend with a birthday party just for her. We had some delicious party food: Hot Doggies for dinner and David “helped” me bake a cake for dessert (which Bota can’t eat but, really, I do love any excuse to bake a cake!):

We played some party games: ball-throwing and TWO walks in the woods!

And no party would be complete without some festive party wear. Bota even tolerated her party hat long enough for me to snap a photo:

Happy birthday, Bota! You really are man’s (and woman’s, and boys’) best friend!

Medieval Festival In An Ancient Walled City

August 18, 20133 Comments

This has been one of those wonderfully rare weekends that had just the right balance of fun, rest, and rejuvenation. On Saturday morning I basically got a mommy-vacation: I went grocery shopping by myself for two glorious hours (because it still takes me that long to figure out where to find things and what packaging to look for and convert prices from dollars/pound to kilograms/Euro so I know if the item is actually worth purchasing).

After my little “shopping spree” I went to our church for a women’s mini conference. It was a beautiful event with a talented speaker, heartfelt worship, and delicious food–including my favorite: scones (oh my, the scones here are to die for. Seriously, one of my favorite things about Ireland. The fact that scones with jam and cream are a part of daily life makes living here 100% worthwhile).

While I was at the conference noshing on scones, Jon took the boys to our local castle in Blackrock for a tour of the dungeons. Turns out, this was not nearly as cool as it sounds. The dungeons were not actually dungeons–it was just the basement, and had never been used as a dungeon at all. Very misleading. The boys enjoyed themselves as much as they could walking around an empty castle basement for half an hour, and at the end of the tour they got to go up to the top of the castle to check out the view (upon which David stated that he was going to throw his baby brother off the roof. We may need to work on the whole “brotherly love” thing).

On Saturday night, Jon and I got to go out on our first date night since moving here to Ireland. A sweet girl from our church came over to our house and looked after our (sleeping) children so we could go out to a movie. It wasn’t the most unique date, but it sure felt nice to get away from our house and enjoy some time together.

The big event of our weekend, though, was the Youghal Medieval Festival. The event was in Youghal (pronounced “yawl”), an ancient walled city in County Cork where people actually lived during medieval times–how cool is that?! There were lots of fun events going on at the festival: food, music, crafts and medieval demos. And lots of people dressed up in awesome medieval costumes. We forgot our costumes, but we tried to fit in as best as we could.

We all enjoyed listening to the Youghal Pipers:

And we got a great view of the town:

When asked what his favorite part of the day was, David said it was “watching Mommy get scratched.” This is what he was referring to:

They had a tent set up with all sorts of medieval torture apparatus and drawings showing how they used to be implemented. Gross. A little girl was manning this tent and she convinced me to help her demonstrate some of the apparatus. She literally tied me up to this torture board and started hacking at me with a foam axe. I was putting on a great show for the kids, cringing and writhing in pain each time her axe came down on me. It was all fun and games until my tormenter went over to her table of torture devices and picked up a real metal anvil. I quickly slipped out of my restraints before she could finish her demonstration.

I have suspected for quite some time now that our son is crazy. My suspicions were confirmed today. There was an arena set up for toy sword fighting. All of the kids were invited in to use foam swords to attack some guys in medieval garb. While all of the other kids rushed to attack their targets, David ran in the opposite direction and started “stabbing” an unsuspecting spectator (David is in the green shirt in the left side of this photo). Thankfully David’s victim wasn’t caught too off guard by David’s advances and he managed to fight off the wild little beast.

After all of the excitement of the festival we had to get some nourishment. We ate grilled kangaroo (yes, the jumpy things from Australia–not totally medieval, but definitely different), sausages, pizza and ice cream. Yummmm…

A very sweet weekend, indeed.

Farm Field Trip

August 16, 2013Leave a comment

I’m really on a kick this week, folks–and a farming kick, nonetheless. Perhaps it’s because you can’t drive more than 2 miles (er..kilometers) here without passing through a sheep paddock or a cow pasture. In fact, 1 out of every 7 jobs in Ireland is involved in agriculture and food. I love it. Yesterday I took the boys to our local farmer’s market (read more about our escapades here) and we had so much fun that I decided to take a little field trip out to a REAL farm today (mommy gold star: earned). It wasn’t difficult to find a farm to visit (like I said, lots of farms here) so I chose one just outside of Cork city called The Farm at Grenagh. It’s an open farm with real animals and tractors and crops…and lots of fun things for the kidlets, too.

When we got to the farm David was in a mood, so I sat him on a bench to brood while Jacob and I checked out the riding tractors. I even managed to snap a quick photo of him before he tumbled right off the slick little seat (don’t worry, Gramma Doreen, I caught him before he hit the ground).

Seeing that the farm was actually a fun place (duh) David decided to join in our activities. The next place we headed was the sandbox. We had fun building sand castles (and, for Jacob, eating a fair amount of said sand castles).

After getting our fill of sand (literally) we went into the animal barn to meet some furry friends. This goat was very friendly. A little too friendly for my comfort. Jacob kept sticking his foot up near the fence and the goat would lick his shoe. Knowing goats tendencies to eat assorted non-food objects (like, for instance, leather baby booties) I decided it was probably best for all involved if we parted ways.

Just outside of the animal barn there were several pastures with cows, sheep, horses and donkeys. My children love donkeys. Both of them. Kinda strange, but you’ve gotta love something. As soon as we rounded the corner to where the donkeys were, both boys started heeing and hawing. The donkeys must have liked it because they sauntered over to the fence to say hello. The boys could have stayed at that fence all day stroking those soft little donkey noses but, alas, there was more farm to be seen.

Next on our agenda was a lesson in cow milking. They had cow “statues” (not quite sure what to call a large metal cow with udders full of water) and the kids got to learn how cows are milked and put real milk suckers (again, not sure what to call them) on the cows to “milk” them.

After our lesson in cow milking, it was time for a tractor-pull train ride. Jacob and I even managed to squeeze into one of the little barrels so we could tour the farm with the other kids.

Then we went into the farms museum that was full of old-timey memorabilia. David enjoyed working as the telephone switchboard operator (after I told him that they were telephones, that is. Poor thing has only ever seen iPhones, so he really didn’t have a clue how to work them).

We ended the day with a visit to the ball pit. There are many things I love about Ireland, and right at the top of the list is the fact that there are ball pits everywhere: at shopping malls, at playgrounds, at farms. There is almost nothing else in this world that brings my boys so much joy as a romp in a ball pit. Thank you, Ireland, for providing me hours of whine-free entertainment.

And then it was time to go home. Singing “Old McDonald” the whole way.

A Happy Reunion

August 9, 2013Leave a comment

While we had a great time exploring Dublin last week, the real reason for our trip up north was to be reunited with our precious dog. Bota has been part of our family for 7 years, longer than our human children, so we’ve been feeling incomplete without our fur-baby. Turns out, it is quite the process to import an animal over international lines–even if the animal in question happens to be the sweetest, happiest Border Collie you’ve ever met.

Besides the mountains of paperwork that needed to be completed, there were several vet appointments and certifications that had to happen within a few days of her arrival in Ireland. And, since we happen to already be in Ireland, my *dear* family that remained state-side got to sort through the logistical nightmare that is “moving a dog internationally”. I think I nearly gave my poor mom a panic attack (and added about 10,000 miles to her car) with all of the last-minute “glitches” that came up. In the end, though, a lot of prayer and fast driving got Bota to the airport just in time for her flight to Ireland, with all of the correct paperwork signed by all of the correct personnel.

From Seattle she flew via air-cargo to Atlanta, where she was kenneled and spent the night. The next morning she boarded her next flight into Dublin. To our great horror, though, when the handler from the veterinarian in Dublin went to meet Bota’s flight, they had no record of her being on board–so the handler returned to the veterinary hospital to inform us to “not be alarmed, but your dog can’t be found.”

Ummm…don’t be alarmed? How can you lose a DOG? She’s in a kennel the size of a small house, she barks, and I’m assuming she may have even smelled a bit at this point in her journey. My first thought was of my husband’s luggage that could not be located on his last trip out to Ireland. It took the airline an entire month to find it (it was in Chicago, a city he had never gone to. Go figure). If it takes them a month to find our dog, that could be bad news. Needless to say, we were not-so-mildly freaking out at this point. And, to make matters worse, it was early enough in the morning that nobody was in their offices either here in Ireland nor in the United States so we couldn’t find a single human being to help us.

Luckily (for the people working at the airline), it took less than a month to find our missing dog. Apparently she had been “reassigned” (whatever that means) on her flight into Dublin. As a result of her being reassigned, she was not on the flight manifest so nobody knew where to look for her on the aircraft. Seems like a pretty major oversight to me, to lose a living being. I think the airline may need a better system going forward. Just sayin’. After the airline located our dog, we had to hang out for awhile longer so the courier could drive back to the airport and do her entry vet exam. Now that we could all breathe again, we decided to wait outside the veterinary hospital and have some snacks in the grass.

As they say, though, “all’s well that ends well”. After what seemed like an eternity, the van holding our precious cargo pulled up to the vet hospital and we got our first glimpse of our (not-too-distressed) dog.

I think the vet could tell that Jon was about ready to kill somebody if he didn’t get his dog soon, so the vet made quick work of the entry exam and then released her into our custody. I don’t know who was happier–us or Bota–but there was definitely a lot of excitement in the air as we were finally reunited.

Shortly after we got Bota it was time to drive 3 hours back to Cork so we could show Bota her new home. Since we only have 1 small car here, we rented an extra car just for the drive back home. Bota got to ride shotgun with Jon since her kennel took up the whole back seat of the car–I think she preferred this arrangement to the cold, hard cage in the belly of a jet plane. Especially since Jon stopped at Burger King to get her a hamburger. Spoiled little thing.

The boys had a great time showing Bota around their new house and throwing balls for her in our yard (we’ve already lost half of our balls over the neighbor’s fence, so I guess we’re going to get to know them pretty well now).

Welcome to Ireland, Bota! We’re so glad you’re here!

Dublin, Day 5: Viking Museum and Kilmainham Gaol (Jail)

August 7, 2013Leave a comment

Today was our last full day in Dublin–tomorrow morning we will get up early and go collect our weary dog from her overseas travel (poor thing, she didn’t even know what she was getting herself into joining our jet-setting family). There were still several attractions we wanted to see but, alas, time was running out.

First thing this morning we walked down to a restaurant my fellow traveler-friends have been raving about: Queen Of Tarts.

And now I see why. The shop sells every sort of baked scrumptiousness that you could ever hope to find in one space. For a sweets addict like myself, this place could be big trouble if I lived close enough to visit every day (because I’m pretty sure I would go there just about every day). This morning We all had raspberry scones with raspberry preserves and cream. They were simply divine.

After breakfast we walked across the street to Dublinia , a Viking and Medieval museum. Since Jon comes from Viking lineage, he really wanted to learn a bit more about his barbarous ancestors and their role in Irish history.

The museum was really great. There were lots of interactive exhibits and period actors who kept things engaging for even the squirreliest of toddlers (mine). David got dig for Viking artifacts, sit in Medieval gallows, and try on Viking helmets.

When we’d had our fill of Viking paraphernalia, we walked down the block to Dublin Castle. Dublin Castle was built in about 1200 and it was later used as the seat of British rule in Ireland until the 1920’s. It is now a major Irish government complex.

We looked into going on a tour of the castle, but the wait was several hours. In my experience, waiting and little boys don’t typically go well together, so we counted our losses and moved on.

Our next destination was the Kilmainham Gaol (Jail). The gaol was built in 1796 and housed many of Ireland’s most notorious criminals (and loads of other people who did terrible things like steal bread when they were starving…). Several leaders of Irish rebellions were imprisoned–and executed–here.

We were able to snag spots on one of the last tours of the day. When we purchased our tickets we were forewarned that if our kids were being disruptive during the tour that we’d be locked in a cell and left overnight.

Just kidding (kinda). Thankfully Jacob fell asleep in the Ergo halfway through the tour and we kept David busy with videos on my iPhone so we could actually make it through one whole tour on this trip. Hey, don’t judge. It worked.

The iPhone came in handy again after our tour when we boarded our bus back home. We barely managed to squeeze on to the overcrowded hop-on, hop-off tour bus–it was so full that we literally put David up on a shelf. He was seated between some boxes of tour pamphlets and a nice Swiss woman (who also managed to find a perch up on David’s shelf. Did I mention those dang “convenient” tour buses were crowded?). Anyway, Nice Swiss Lady let David play with her iPhone the whole 30-minute ride back to our bus stop. She taught David how to use this ridiculous app that makes all sorts of obnoxious sounds. David, of course, loved it.

And just like that, our whirlwind tour of Dublin was over. We had many new experiences, a few incidents that I’d like to forget, and many great moments. I’m glad that we live close enough to return to Dublin some day, because it really is a wonderful city.

Until next time, Dublin!

Dublin, Day 4: Double-Decker Bus Tour to Trinity College and The Guinness Storehouse

August 7, 20132 Comments

Dublin is a very difficult city to drive in: parking is a nightmare and the roads go in crazy patterns (so if you miss your turn, it could be half a century before you find your way back). Because of this non-drivability, we’ve been walking everywhere. Today, though, we decided to mix it up and try a hop-on, hop-off double-decker bus tour.

While it was fun riding the bus and convenient getting dropped off at each destination, I think the big red bus actually caused us more trouble than help. It took a long time to get places (the loop through the city took over an hour). My kids don’t do well sitting still–and remaining content–for more than two micro-seconds, so that was a bust. Plus, most of the buses we “hopped” onto were super-crowded and I had to give puppy dog eyes to comfortable-looking passengers in the hopes that they’d sacrifice their seat for a distressed mother carrying a baby, a diaper bag, a stroller, 3 jackets and an ankle-grabbing toddler. In the end, though, the experience did make for memories (and a cute photo).

The first stop we departed our bus for today was Trinity College, a several centuries-old university in the heart of Dublin. As a former college tour guide myself, I just had to go on the student-led tour of campus.

Our tour guide was friendly and witty and loud enough that I could hear her over the two screaming banshees we were pushing along in our stroller. It’s a beautiful campus full of interesting architecture (one dorm didn’t get running water and electricity until the late 1990’s–and now the entire dorm shares one measly bathroom), traditions (graduations are–and always have been–done entirely in Latin. The poor graduates can’t understand a word of their own ceremony), and colorful histories (a group of discontent law students murdered their law professor–and got acquitted in court. Hey, at least we know the late-professor taught them well…).

The most famous piece of history that we saw at Trinity College, though, is The Book of Kells. The Book of Kells is a gospel book written in Latin by monks in the year 800 AD. It contains the first four books of the gospel, and it is beautiful. There are ornate drawings throughout the book and the text itself is so fancy you can hardly tell there are supposed to be words on the page. We almost didn’t wait around to see the Book of Kells because there was a horrendous queue, but I’m sure glad we did.

After we viewed the Book of Kells, we went upstairs to the long hall of the “Old Library”. It’s a massive room with hundreds of thousands of volumes of literature dating back hundreds of years (this library has a copyright agreement that entitles them to one copy of every book printed in England or Ireland every year–that’s a lot of books).

After our tour of Trinity College we hopped back on our bus for our afternoon adventures. Jon was really excited to go to the Guinness Factory but, since neither me nor the boys enjoy drinking beer yet, we decided to part ways for the afternoon. Jon had a great time learning about Guinness brewing and learning how to pour (and drink!) the perfect pint.

While Jon was at Guinness, the boys and I returned to the zoo to visit some of our favorite furry/feathery/scaly friends. The boys’ favorite part of the zoo today, though, was playing in the sand and hitting bushes with some sticks they found on the ground. Ah, cheap thrills.

To round out our day we made one last stop in Temple Bar for dinner. We went to a restaurant that a friend of mine recommended called Boxty’s. A boxty is a bit like a potato crepe stuffed with savory fillings, and it is delicious. Really, really scrumptious.

Another busy day of adventure–and I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Dublin, Day 3: Newgrange Tomb, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and St. Stephen’s Green

August 5, 20132 Comments

For Day 3 of our Great Dublin Expedition we actually left Dublin and drove about 30 minutes north to a place called Newgrange. Newgrange (along with her sister sites, Knowth and Meath) is an ancient Stone Age passage tomb. When you first see it, it doesn’t look like much more than an earthen mound at the top of a knoll, but it is most certainly more than a lump on a hill.

The tomb is old…very, VERY old. Since it was constructed long before people had a written language, the only way to ascertain its age is through carbon dating. Estimates place Newgrange’s construction at about 3200 BC–making it well over 5,000 years old. This means that Newgrange had already been standing for several centuries when Stonehenge and the great Egyptian pyramids were built.

Nobody knows for certain what Newgrange was used for, but it was definitely a burial tomb with deep religious significance. Incredibly, every year at 8:58 on the morning of the Winter Solstice, a ray of light reaches from the entrance if the tomb all the way to the central chamber and illuminates the space. For the life of me, I cannot fathom how people living 5,000 years ago constructing giant stone domes would be able to create such a flawless design. I barely passed Physics 101, so I know they wouldn’t want me on the planning committee.

The tour of Newgrange takes you all the way in to the central chamber of the passage tomb. It would have been really awesome to stay and hear the tour guide’s spiel about the mystical and historical significance of this Neolithic wonder, but we were politely asked to excuse ourselves so the other guests could carry on with enjoying their day (“Ma’am, are you sure your squawking baby wouldn’t be happier outside in the fresh air?”).

It’s actually a good thing she asked us to leave, because shortly after we got outside David had an incident (c’mon, we’re traveling with two children under the age if 3. You just know something has to go terribly wrong). David was having a great time running through the grass in front of Newgrange and we were happy to let him blow off some steam. That is, until he ran across the field, pulled down his pants, and started to pee.

By the time I could catch up to him (running across this ancient burial site with Jacob in the Ergo and lugging 3 jackets in my arms), he was already mid-stream. Whelp, guess you just peed on the oldest sacred ground known to humankind, Buddy. Thankfully our tour group was still absorbed in their lecture, so I was the only one who had to witness the Great Desecration.

Potty incidents aside, it was an amazing experience walking through Newgrange. Perhaps we will visit again some day–some day after our children are fully potty-trained.

When we returned from Newgrange it was time for the boys’ afternoon snooze. I seized this opportunity to sneak out alone while Daddy manned the fort. I decided to use my alone time to walk down to St. Patrick’s Cathedral (because, after the morning’s incidents, I realized that sacred sites and toddlers just don’t mix well).

St. Patrick’s Cathedral is a 1,000 year-old stone cathedral that is said to be the spot where St. Patrick himself baptized new converts to Christianity. Incredible! Jonathan Swift (author of Gulliver’s Travels Was a Dean here and spent several years serving The Church. The cathedral is also where Handel’s “Messiah” was first performed in the 1700’s.

The inside is beautiful–full of marble statues, stained glass, and ornate carvings. It was breathtaking. The Cathedral Choir was also singing while I was walking around, their music echoing through the cavernous halls.

It was a remarkable place to visit–and I’m so glad I got to see it sans-children!

By the time I got back from my trip to the cathedral, the boys were up and it was time for dinner. We wandered down the street until we happened upon St. Stephen’s Green, a large park near the main shopping quarter of Dublin (Grafton Street). We picked up some burritos to-go and had a picnic dinner in the park.

The boys had a great time running through the grass, watching ducks in the ponds, and playing on the large playground. And, because no day would be complete without a treat, we stopped for gelato on our walk back home.

A sweet finale to another great day.

We Love, Teach, Grow

My journey through motherhood

Category: Family Life