Today was a travel day. I was up early to catch the bus to Galway, and then the train to Dublin, another train to Mallow, a third train to Killarney, then a cab to Larkinley Lodge. Now, I found out that Larkinley Lodge was within easy walking distance, but my iPhone had drained its battery while I was reading on the bus and trains, and couldn’t use the GPS to find the place. Now I know how to walk from the Lodge to the station, so that’s fine.
But really what that means is that I don’t have a lot of pictures today. Here are a few little things.
I just realized that I haven’t shown you the inside of McGann’s Pub, except for the musicians. Here’s the actual pub part.This is Larkinley Lodge. Very nice folks here, and a very nice room. Good recommendations for dinner.The room is lovely. The B&B is new-built, and a nice mix of modern and traditional feel to it.
I went for a nice walk around Killarney, found the pub – The Laurels – that they recommended at the B&B, and also found the place to meet for my tour tomorrow.
Today is my last day in Doolin. I took Tony’s advice from yesterday, and didn’t take the Cliff Walk tour. Instead, I slept in a bit, had a leisurely breakfast, and walked by the tourism information office and picked up a walking map of the area. Thus armed, I went for a walk around the area.
The fields around Doolin.The narrow roads leading up in the Doolin hills. Gotta keep an eye out for cars, because there’s really only one lane.Hills and rock fences.Tough walking in the hills, but great views.Looking down on Doolin village.The Aille River runs along Fisher Street in Doolin.Doonagore Castle overlooks the whole valley.You can see it from pretty much anywhere in the region.it’s on private land, so I couldn’t go right up to it. But still. Pretty cool.Looking down on the piers at Doolin. With the watchtower island, and Inisheer in the background.Looking down at Doolin and across Galway Bay at the Connemara coastline.An old stone house, with stone fences, and the Atlantic beyond.Wildflowers everywhere along the roads.Really everywhere.There were neat little streams running through the fields down towards the cliffs.I got a fair way along the cliff walk, but turned back at the sign that said not to use the rest of the trail.A ferry coming in.The cliffs were amazing.Very cool cliffs.
So, after walking about six miles or so through the hills, I realized I probably could have managed the cliff walk tour. But I saw a whole bunch of cool stuff, and had a good time.
It was an overcast day, but warm, with no breeze. Given the high humidity, I was very hot and sweaty after the walk, so I stopped to have lunch and a drink at O’Connor’s pub, then walked back to McGann’s to shower and rest for a bit. Eventually, I went down for supper at McGann’s, and to wait for the music to start. It was going to be an early session, and thus it was sort of empty for the first little bit.
I thought I had good seats at the pub last night. Tonight, I was right beside Geraldine. It was awesome.
I’m working on uploading a short video of one of the tunes. Look for a post about that in the next hour or so.
Back in the pub again tonight. I didn’t get such a good seat tonight, as it was pretty crowded when I came in. I wound up sitting around a corner from the bar at a little shelf. But Ernst, one of the nice Germans I met last night, spotted me, and told me to come sit with him and Ilona at the same table we had the previous night.
And then the folks at the next table to us left just as the music was about to start, so we moved over one.
Yeah. That’s how close I’m sitting. The singer is putting her beer on my table. Oh, and the singer? Geraldine McGowan, formerly of the band Oisin. The piper is Blackie O’Connell, said by locals to be the best piper in Ireland. I didn’t catch the name of the guy in the middle, but he’s playing a mandola, so you know he’s badass. And leaning into the picture from the right is Johnny from Mulingar, the harmonica player from last night, whom I think might be mad, but in a friendly, welcoming, happy way.They started somewhat late, but they played somewhat late, too, so I don’t think anyone much minded. The wall of sound from the uillean pipes was astounding, and when things got going with the mandola and the bodhran, there might have been a whole orchestra sitting in that corner.Geraldine sang several songs. Amazing voice.About half-way through the evening, they were joined by Joe who plays the squeezebox. Johnny also got another turn or two to play his harmonica, and a gentleman from Londonderry whose name I didn’t catch sang a couple of songs.
This. This is everything I was hoping for when I decided to stay in Doolin. And I have one more day and one more night here. I’m looking forward to them, but I’ve already won at my vacation.
My plan worked, and I had a nice meal at McGann’s and staked out a good seat for when the music started. It was a good evening.
The musicians showed up and started a little bit early, which was completely fine by me. It’s hard to see in this picture, but between the guitar player at the back and the white-haired gentleman on the left, there’s another man who played guitar and banjo.The singer had one of those classic Irish voices, and knew a huge number of songs by heart, judging from how quickly he was able to accommodate requests. He also played the bass on the instrumental numbers.A customer had a harmonica with him, and sat in for a tune. I believe the tune he played was Apples in Winter, but don’t hold me to that. He was really good, though.
Okay. Now I have to explain a Hen Party.
Hen Parties are the Irish1 version of a bachelorette party. The bride-to-be’s friends pick some sort of costume theme, and go out to party on the town. We had one of those show up and basically take over the pub, singing their own version of The Green and Red of Mayo, forming a conga line, doing some step dancing, and pelting the musicians with special requests. They were, apparently, dressed as Father Ted’s Lovely Ladies or something – I dunno. I didn’t quite catch it, and I’ve never watched Father Ted, so it wouldn’t have helped, anyway.
Hen Parties are – I am told – usually rowdy, but in a fun, high-spirited way, and this was no exception. The German couple sharing my table commented, “The Irish really know how to celebrate something,” and I couldn’t agree more. It was a loud, fun night.
About all you can see of this woman is her pink sleeve and the microphone she’s holding. She sang a wonderful version of Black is the Colour.
And then the musicians packed up and left, and I did the same.
Tomorrow is Doolin Cave. My tour there isn’t until 11:00, so I’m taking advantage of that to sleep in a bit.
