I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

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Going to the Wild West of Ireland, one probably doesn’t expect to take a cruise of any kind. Ireland, however, runs rampant with rivers and lakes [or “loughs”, if you will] as well as being surrounded by the wild Atlantic, lends itself to quite a few opportunities to peruse via cruise.

One of the most memorable opportunities to take a cruise on a Wild West Irish Tour is around Yeats’ famed Lough Gill.

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When reflecting on the lore of Lough Gill [like most old places in Ireland, there’s quite a bit]; there’s no better place to do so than atop Gill itself. Skimming silvery water over which the ghostly mists of time and mountains flow, face braced against damp air and eyes fixed on the tree line – all while experiencing the narration of a devoted captain.

Lough Gill in and of itself is a magical entity. Watched over by a castle that is storied [thus indeed, stories for another day] and regarded as one of the best fishing spots by locals [such as anthropologist Dr. Michael Roberts], the Lough is tranquil as it can be choppy. The weather surrounding the lake turns it much more sea-like than one could initially imagine – waves and clouds collide in a spectacular waltz that dazzles the eye – particularly when sunlight strikes the surface of the crests, creating arcs of light that make the waters seem endless.

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Bear in mind this is not the usual cruise! First and foremost, it IS on a lake – a vast one, but a freshwater one nonetheless, ensconced in trees thick and lush with a nearby academic center overlooking the view a little ways out on the lough. What’s fascinating about Lough Gill, to me, is not only its myths and legends [be they the historic end to a royal heir, sleeping giants, an enormous stone table, or a varied telling of a man, his sword, and true love defying the odds of drowning] but its geographical aspects as well. It is a place that is timeless and seemingly effortless, carved by some loving hand into the heart of the Wild West and filled with heavenly water.

Dotted with tiny islands throughout; some even inhabited by locals [which are definitely worth hearing from the captain of our vessel; the Rose of Innisfree], it shifts from an occasionally-flat surface of water to a maze of magnificent plant life and channels. Yeats himself penned “The Lake Isle of Innisfree”, a stanza of which is featured at the top of this piece – inspired by one of the magnificent mini-islands floating in the middle of the lake.IMG_6105

All of which is lovingly described by Captain George; as much a part of Lough Gill and the Wild West of Ireland as he is his own individual person. With a weatherworn face and a classic Captain’s hat, he looks the part – the sort of man who seems born in a lighthouse and lived on a ship all his days. The feeling of safety in his navigational skills and charismatic presence is immediate – Captain George is as capable as he is kind.941395_588607861159264_543974610_n.jpg

[And a born performer, too!]

Boarding a cozy, warm boat with the thought of seeing things seldom seen [and therefore wonderful, as you might’ve guessed], the last thing I expected was to be served tea and snacks by a rosy-cheeked lady who was all smiles – first mate & wife Tina was prepared for that special brand of hospitality only the Irish can truly extend. Captain George, meanwhile, invoked the spirit of Yeats [and if you’ve ever heard Yeats recite his own poetry, you might know what I mean] from the ship’s loudspeaker – not overwhelmingly blaring, but rather, an intonation of emphasis. Every yard we covered across glimmering water alternated between narration in poetry, prose/quotes, and facts alike. Captain George; a well of information in the best possible way, got everyone involved in the recitation of poetry and the ‘pop quizzes’ of questions surrounding Lough Gill.

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[Wild Westies LD and Sam aboard the Rose of Innisfree]

It felt rather like we floated the lake in somebody’s home, listening to their stories and sharing fun facts, rather than on-board a ship. That was arguably due to both the conversational tone of the good captain and how smooth the ride was! Coincidentally, outside of educational Boston Harbor explorations and an unsuccessful whale watch, this was my first ‘real’ cruise – and it was one I wouldn’t trade for the world.

If I’ve enticed you to come on said cruise with us around the Land of Heart’s Desire, feel free to see where the journey takes you from here:

Meet Captain George and his fine ship, and catch a shining glimpse of Lough Gill aboard the Rose of Innisfree in the Heart of the Wild West!

Let us know where you go from here – we want to go with you!

Until next time, be well!

Sam Fishkind

Wild West Irish Tours

Social Media Manager & Scribe.

When people think of the Wild West of Ireland, they probably picture a lot of things: the iconic hills, the individual mountains, stories of Yeats, and endless rainbows. What they aren’t picturing, usually, is an old-world Spanish Armada shipwrecked in the briny Wild West Atlantic Way. A story of ambitious royals, desperate sailors, tall tale elements and more ensued – narrated by a one Francisco de Cuellar, brought back to life by a very special Irish historian.

IMG_6862.JPGOne of the primary sources on Ireland’s (pardon the pun) rich history with the Spanish Armada is Eddie O’Gorman, someone Wild West Irish Tours enthuastically enjoys. Perhaps best described man who is a perpetual student as much as he is a teacher, Eddie seeks to inform people of the near-legendary events surrounding the wrecking of the Armada and all that followed. Through him, the voice of de Cuellar speaks – with impromptu theatrics and a voice made for telling stories.

To understand the fascination with history surrounding the Spanish Armada, one must first understand Eddie. Eddie’s interest in the Spanish Armada stems from his fascination with tall ships and reverence for history. He was, after all, a history teacher for many years; then switched to business, then went back to teaching – fluctuating, he said, in part because “kids don’t listen.” It’s a bit hard to believe, considering how he can spin a yarn.

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A restless soul in the best possible way; Eddie sought to travel – his own epic quest, in a way, exploring the historical aspects of Ireland and engaging with the past in ways few seldom do. Moving back to the Wild West of Ireland after his children moved out, Eddie took an interest in the work of novelist Patrick O’Brian, who wrote of nautical history – perhaps most famously, Master and Commander.

From thereon, it was an avid interest in tall ships – so much so that Eddie got the hip surgery he’d been putting off in order to do what he truly wanted to do: sail! “I healed fast like Francisco,” Eddie joked – and we’ll get what he means in just a moment. But so invested in tall ships and their legacy with Irish history was Eddie that he happened to be on the first recovery ship that went out to pull a cannon up from the Armada – and he’s been thus trawling up facts and stories ever since.IMG_6781.JPG The epic of Francisco de Cuellar is best described by Eddie himself – following the winding path the Spaniard took after his unexpected disembarking a galleon in the Armada- an Armada whose ships were toting a considerable amount of treasure back to Spain at the behest of its rulers. De Cuellar’s life from thereon out was a wild one – his recounting of events is as tall as it is long. Between the late 1500’s locals swarming the survivors of the shipwreck for their clothing [currency during that time], grievous injuries relating to the ship [his leg was badly wounded], and the many attempts on his life [as the British, who occupied Ireland at the time, did so hate the Spanish], de Cuellar seemed destined to an epic adventure. Whether or not he’d survive seemed uncertain –

Yet he was also destined to be dubbed an incredible survivor. Not only did he seem to heal astonishingly quickly on an [allegedly] decimated leg [the road stretched on for miles – a seemingly impossible distance for an injured individual]; much like Eddie and his hip, if you will, but de Cuellar also always seemed to find the right people to rescue him.

And believe it or not, most of them turned out to be women! Eddie did rib us with the fact that the Irish women did take a fancy to Spanish men’s “olive skin and dark hair” – so much so that one story had him as an indentured servant to a rather flirtatious blacksmith’s wife. This was offset only by de Cuellar’s prowess as a strategist – something more than one Irish chieftain admired enough to try to convince him to stay. How much of de Cuellar’s life is fact and how much is fiction during this retelling of events remains to be seen – but it makes for a riveting tale nonetheless!IMG_6803.JPG

IMG_6839      Eddie O’Gorman, meanwhile, makes an effortless effort of showing people around to places no one would know about – off the literal beaten path, through a field of roving sheep, to the last standing monument to a place that sheltered de Cuellar for a time, for example. The quietness and actual living history as a backdrop for Eddie’s enrapturing narration made the experience that much more all-encompassing. It was as if we were literally walking with de Cuellar across the hills to seek sanctuary.

And the people of the Wild West of Ireland have also been assisting in the conservation of this particular segment of history. Between carefully raising cannons miraculously preserved in the ocean water and enlisting embargos to prevent the selling of snorkeled artifacts off the wrecks as well as endeavoring to educate the public whilst protecting what they can of the sunken vessels, there’s been heaps of effort in making sure as many as possible know what transpired those 400+ years ago. Eddie O’Gorman also mentioned there’s work being done on a local visitors’ center, meant to culturally enrich people regarding the Armada – and much more in the beautiful areas surrounding the Armada.

If you’re lucky enough to meet Eddie on one of your Wild West Irish Tours adventures, you’ll be able to more fully experience these behind-the-scenes; wild adventures. And you’ll never forget him – nor will you be able to put out of your mind the unbelievable recounting of Francisco de Cuellar.  Come sail away on a discovery of history reimagined; reinvigorated, and inspired –

Then go home and tell your own tale just as de Cuellar told his.

Until next time, enjoy the seldom & wonderful!

Sam Fishkind

Wild West Irish Tours

Social Media Manager & Scribe

Day five on a Wild Westie live blogging adventure – a day about town, and so much more.

The Wild West Irish Tours group set out to the nearby town of Sligo; settled in the heart of various mountains flowing to the coast in its county of the same name – Sligeach, “the shelly place” is its name in Gaelic. The town itself is a colorful; quaint little central point of interest for those who invest time and energy in Yeats country. And who wouldn’t? Between the attraction of a poetic nature, the town hosts a bright and bustling art and music scene, as well as a great many historical sites that make much more sense when you did what we did: get a local guide!

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Adrian was our guide for the beginning of the day – a young man local to the area who not only knew it well, but was full of incredible little facts that showed just how passionate he was about it. Places we would’ve normally passed without a second thought [or picture] were put into new light – we got to stand and experience the history of the village as it grew (and burned down, and grew, and burned down – an official burn down number of about seven, Adrian said) whilst observing the details of the area. IMG_6635A keen example is the hand that is etched onto the bank the Yeats statue stands in front of. It’s got an interesting legend tied to it – any guesses why a hand would be used here? I certainly wasn’t prepared for the story Adrian told – and it was a grand one, too. The point is though that one might wander by the bank, admire the statue, and move on without even noticing the hand or even wonder about its origin.

Adrian’s enthusiasm for the area really resonated with our walking tour – I learned so much in about two hours time that I’m still [pleasantly] processing it – anything from the town’s history with brewing to what stones came from where to build which buildings, to other famous figures that emerged influenced from the Wild West of Ireland – particularly, Sligo town.

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And you can’t visit the area without seeing a local craftsman of great renown – Michael Quirke is known and beloved, and we were fortunate enough to get some time with him today. An expert woodcarver, Michael brought out of beech the beauty of local myths and legends – happily lecturing on them as he whittled away; drawing life from within the wood. He’d also chat with his visitors; asking favorite animals, names, all sorts of things to uniquely design something off the cuff if inspired. If he wasn’t telling a myth or legend relating to whatever he was doing, he was sharing stories of his own life – how he’s been carving since the 1960’s, things he’s heard from his neighbors, or things relating to family names. And it’s worth noting he never slowed down or paused in what he was doing – no, Mr. Quirke kept up the pace in quick wit and quick hands alike, dazzling all who came to see him.

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Then it was a lovely day to ourselves out on the town – at free range, I swung into a café and had a nice soup, then strolled around looking for little things to bring home, a few small things for myself, but most of all, new experiences [and of course, photo opportunities]. There wasn’t a place I felt unwelcome and at every corner, something new and interesting would catch my eye. Musicians kept to the street corners and overhangs – I caught a fiddle and a guitar on my way around town, but I’m sure there were even more in different parts. I spent time in a shop chatting with a local artist who makes wonderful jewelry – and instead of just leaving it at that, she wanted to know what I was up to. When she heard I was into photography and art, she delightedly showed me upstairs to a gallery with an amazing exhibit! What I liked best about the whole experience is that Sligo is a constantly moving little town that teems with energy, but never feels overly busy or crowded. A really nice visit, with beautiful weather to enjoy it in, no less.

 

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It was history and nature after that – we stopped by a historical site of sobering importance that deserves its own moment in time and silent reflection. It felt rather like paying respect to the country’s history; acknowledging that the Ireland we know today was not the Ireland of yesterday – of occupation and destitution. There’s a real sense of thankfulness upon exiting this particular area – walking back out into nature on a hike Senan guided us on. Just up to a fairy circle in the sunshine; more grateful and humbler than before, I’d wager.

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It was not my only hike of the night, however – no, we got to experience something my good friend Geraldine had been suggesting the Wild Westies experience for a good while now: the Fairy Glen.IMG_6749

Another one of those “blink and you’ll miss it” sites; this particular glen takes a bit of a walk out to – along a narrow path through the woods whose trees twine and twist in the most impish of ways. Tunnels of emerald and lime spiral around whoever dares travel up to the glen, and golden light filters through the dense leaves above to shower the ground with sparkling rays.

Entering a perfectly-even chasm of stone cloaked in ivy; looking up at stacked ferns surrounding a fresh, open space of damp and cool twinkling in the fading afternoon sun was…unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was the utterly peaceful moment of silence that comes before diving into a swimming pool meets the adrenaline of the start of a race…and yet, it was tranquil. There was nothing but the wind to breathe life into the limbs of trees and sunlight to shift the shadows on the ground. It’s easy to imagine being watched by elfin faces between the boughs – the burbling of streams is silvery laughter and the rustling of leaves is an ethereal being passing by on a wisp of mist. A surreal renaissance painting come to life – or rococo, considering…

g2There was a swing there, too – you might be familiar with Jean-Honoré Fragonard’s “The Swing” painting? The one with the girl in the fancy dress whose shoe is flying off as she swings back and forth? It was a bit like that, albeit I was less fancy, my shoe did not fly off, and I looked a bit less graceful, no doubt. But it felt incredible to simply sway and become a part of the swaying of the forest.

For Geraldine to go out of her way to take us somewhere she said we simply had to see (she was right, of course) is something I’ll always be grateful for. To simply sit, be, and chat when we felt like it was enough – the glen in all its glistening beauty was the perfect end to an extraordinary day of learning, feeling, thinking, and reflecting. Most of all, simply allowing oneself to be – in a busy day and age like ours, time to just exist is now considered a valuable luxury.

Also, I continue to be amazed by the way the entire country seems to open its arms and show people around – the towns local people love and take pride in, history lovingly preserved, and nature respected & accepted as a part of life worth knowing. Today was a day worth experiencing fully – and I am so very happy I did so as a Wild Westie.

Until next time, see you on the other side of the rainbow.

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Sam Fishkind

Wild West Irish Tours

Social Media Manager & Scribe