Day three of the Wild West Irish Tours live blogging adventure – and let me tell you, folks, today was one of the greats!
After another hearty breakfast lovingly prepared by Geraldine, I set out with my group; Senan at the helm, to discover what the day had in store.
First and foremost to wake us up was a riverside walk to a pair of caves that served as areas of prayer during olden times. The remnants of a nearby abbey and mill wheel kept watch as the Wild Westies took in the sight of the rushing waters and fragrant greenery. Just a little bit down the way and ‘round the bend was one of Ireland’s famous holy wells, a place of quiet reflection and worship. A statue of St. Patrick stood guard nearby; overlooking an inlet the sea swept toward, five crosses in a circle indicating how and where one would pray if so inclined. The area resonated with peace, and the rag tree of people’s prayers danced on the breeze in an array of a hundred colors.
After spending some time there (and, if you’re me, squirreling away blackberries up the path on the way back), we headed further North, just across the line that divides Ireland in two. But blink and you’ll miss it, because the scenery is so beautiful it distracts from the subtle difference between Ireland & Northern Ireland –a nearby mural hidden behind a convenience store I glimpsed on our way back that said “Welcome to Donegal” was all I had to go on to know we were headed South again.
We were part of a fascinating tour of a local craft and how it’s made – iconic decorative pieces originating in Ireland with definable parts meshed with informative (yet ever entertaining) speakers. We explored a factory wherein it became a living episode of How It’s Made – complete with demos, interactive activities, and more. I’m pleased to report our Wild Westies were the bold and brave ones to volunteer themselves at every opportunity to participate – helping to illustrate the detailed process which results in elaborate, individual creations still made by hand today.
After that, it was a quick bite in a local pub that had excellent fare and quite the ambiance – an eclectic collection of local (stuffed) game; nick-knacks from eras past [someone spotted a disco ball hanging out in the rafters], and a beautiful mural of a black cat and fairies, which came with folklore we could glance at on the wall. According to legend, the pub was built where a black cat used to guard the river for the fey. You’ll have to come admire it for yourself, though – nobody tells a story quite like the locals, even in written form.
Then it was off on a rollicking adventure along the seaside – a castle in the distance with storied history loomed on the horizon; surveying the great crashing waves of the Wild West Atlantic Way; which tossed foam up to the heavens and dragged saltwater by the gallon back over aging stone. Senan was kind enough to make stops for us here and there [with wonderful info on the local areas provided] so we could look down at the waves, admire the rolling fields, and, if you’re me, set off on your own small adventure.
This is when things got absolutely magical, in my opinion – all of it’s grand, but every experience is uniquely tied to the individual on a Wild West Irish Tour. You can tinker and tailor it to fit you; and, in my case, I tinkered and tailored my way across the cliffs to a friendly face I saw longing for attention [or perhaps just fresh grasses] nearby. While others were looking at the ocean, examining stone walls, taking photos for Christmas cards [no joke – ask Wild Westies Tom and Margaret about their cute travel-themed cards], I was being nuzzled and nosed by a brand new friend.
We gathered around a local time capsule after that – a brilliant piece of artwork that’s meant for generations to come; set against the water. The details of it are gorgeous – each lovingly chosen and splendidly made.
Then came a walk in three parts – the first being a stroll through the woods under an iconic mountain; led along by another river that ushered us into the territory of mining and intrigue.
Following this, we gathered in the heart of a beloved loop whose poignant, multifaceted history shines as bright as any emerald. The third took place on a windswept plane that bridged the gap between reality and fantasy; hugged on either side by mountains of geological and mythical magnificence.
It was very grounding as it was uplifting; really – to be immersed fully in the truly wild aspect of the Wild West of Ireland. There was laughing into the open face of the ocean and its breezes; running up hills for a better look at the lay of the land below, and taking time to wander by oneself, allowing the grandeur to truly sink in.
We have so much to discuss among one another when the day comes to a close – swapping stories about ourselves that relate to our surroundings, asking questions, and thoroughly engaging with one another really solidifies the impact of this particular experience. No matter who you are or where you’re coming from, you really do find a home here; sitting around a table at the end of the day with your fellow Wild Westies.
Home as of now just happens to be the incredible, unpredictable, ever awe-inspiring Wild West of Ireland.
See you tomorrow folks!
– Sam Fishkind.