6/30/09

Journal #1

(written on the train from Limerick to Dublin)

Today riding the bus into Limerick we, my wife Lauren and I , caught our first glimpse of the Irish countryside. What I saw was like something straight out of my imagination. Under iconic overcast Irish skies we rolled over and around hills drenched in green. Everything seemed to be over grown. Sheep, cows, and horses grazed on hillsides, next to fields that could hardly pass as cultivated land.

Once in Limerick we crossed the Shannon and had a perfect view of King John’s Castle. It’s high walls jutting up out of the water below. The Shannon was dark and ominous. Looking down into the dark cold water as it reflected the sky above, one could easily believe the accusations made by so many against the Shannon’s damp consumption causing waters.

We had a few hours before our tour began so we went to the Hunt Museum. Inside were three floors filled with all kinds of historical gems. Minor works of Picasso, and Renior hung amidst exhibits with artifacts from ancient Ireland, Egypt, and Greece. Apparently, Mr. Hunt was somewhat of an expert on early Christian symbols, and because so, there were cases filled with wooden, ivory, bronze, gold, and silver crucifixes.

We left the museum as the mist we had felt earlier thickened into a light rain. Hungry and damp Burger King was a welcome stop. Over burgers and fries Lauren pondered the influence of seasonal affective disorder on Limerick’s residents, and I couldn’t help but compare the morning mist to the weather I saw for an entire June while living on Kodiak Island, an Ocean and continent away. Veiled, I think, in our conversation was the fact that neither one of us was looking forward to a rain soaked walking tour of Limerick.

An hour later though, the clouds remained, the mist stopped and we greeted Mic O Donnell. Along with an Australian woman, who like myself had Limerick ancestors, Mr. O Donnell led us on a tour of sights mentioned in Angela’s Ashes. We walked past the old dock road where Frank and his brother collected bits of coal. We saw Leamy’s National School, and South’s Pub where Pa Keating bought Frank his first pint. We walked past the façade of the post office where Frank raised money for his fare to America. It was really neat to see literature come to life in this way. I have seen books made into movies. I could even have watched the movie version of Angela’s Ashes, but being there on walking the streets was a completely new experience for me.

Still, the highlight of Limerick would have to be Mr. O Donnell himself. Nearly every step of the way he quoted, or quite accurately paraphrased stories directly from the book, only after having asked our permission to do so, and having emphasized the author’s support for this very tour. Mr. O Donnell grew up in a working class family and from time to time would weave stories from his own childhood into the tour. This contributed so much to my enjoyment of the tour and the validation of McCourt’s heartbreaking story.

After the tour we hiked a half mile or so to the train depot and booked the first one out of town. We're both looking forward to our time in Dublin

(Pictures and video to come later)