Whiskey on the Rock(s)…

After spending our weekend enjoying Dublin we leave the city to head out to the coast. We have plotted and timed out the possibilities for our trip. Good fortune shines upon us as does the sun and we head towards Kildare. In keeping with the traditions of the Irish we shared the craic (good lively conversation) and even sang a few verses of Irish songs(after all it is a long way to Tipperary!) on our way. Finally we pull on to the tiny lane leading to St Brigid’s Cathedral in Kildare.

St. Brigid is the patroness of Ireland. She founded the first monastery for nuns. The stories abound of her kindness and faith. She is credited with the conversion of a pagan Cheiftan (her father) to Catholicism. A local had shared stories of her mysticism bridging paganism, science and the church. She was a strong fiercely independent woman who was charting her own course and influencing people in a time when men (like St. Patrick) were getting all the attention. A favorite saint of mine growing up, there is a church named for her nearby in our CT home (where our daughter got married).

As we scramble out of our car to visit the Cathedral, the iron gate is locked with a sign noting it opens again on May first… no worry, all is not for naught, the delightful family grocery/ bakery/ boarding house next door had a lovely outdoor cafe. A cup of tea and a flat white later, we are on the road again undaunted and satisfied.

Next stop… Rock of Cashel. While planning this special trip, we took into account the fact that our friends had not yet been to Ireland. We tried to include both favorites and new sites. The Rock of Cashel connects to St.Brigid’s as she a contemporary of St. Patrick. Cashel is the site attributed to the baptism/conversion of the Munster kings by St.Patrick, and the start of the conversion of Ireland.

When visiting Ireland, enjoy the story telling ability of the guides, the locals, the people. We are finding different focuses as we tour with friends. The OPW (Office of Public Works) is focusing on conservation of this site. The rock was once a fortress protecting the seat of the king of Munster. It became an ecclesiastical site when St. Patrick converted the pagan king. A cathedral, bell tower, choirary were built. Along with these ruins, many Celtic crosses and monuments dot the solemn graveyard which looks out over the pastures of cows and the acreage of the Hore Abbey below.
The vistas are iconic Ireland ruins.

There is a spirituality and mysticism that seems to blow in the wind and live in the green of the landscape. The walls that stand strong against the pounding wind and rain have eroded somewhat but still stand. The crumbling sections which have fallen overtime, the curious figures carved on high in corners and ledges, all add to the feeling of the place and tell the story of the past. Out over the fields the rain clouds gathered. A quick shower off in the distance blew a cool wind our way and we got back to the car just in time. However the sun shone oft in the distance and soon the rain stopped and the day was beautiful.

We continued our jaunt on to Midleton Distillery, maker of all things whiskey- Jameson, Powers, Redbreast, Spot. All the Jameson in the world begins on this site ( you see the deep roots of Irish struggle and perseverance here).

The grounds are a mix of large old stone factory buildings trimmed neatly with red wood framing the large windows and more modern looking factory buildings tucked behind and peeking up over. The mix of gravel and asphalt is still quaint. The addition of a tented food court with picnic tables and chairs and a food truck( with some of the best “chips” we’ve ever had- potatoes =life☘️🥰)welcome visitors into the reception.

Bart, a charming man with a bright neon jacket denoting his status as guide gathered our eclectic bunch and headed us off on the tour. We learned about the process, barley, malted or toasted barley, maize, water from the river, yeast-ancient and good, … the workers wore platform shoes reminiscent of John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever to protect their feet from burning during the malting process. Walking through the various buildings where the stages of the distillation and aging are completed, the tour reaches a tasting room. Here three samples- Jameson ( distilled 3 x) Scotch(distilled 2x and malted using smokey peet thus rendering the smokey flavor ), and American ( who shall be nameless and by that I mean Jack Daniels) which is distilled once, are placed side by side along with a palate cleansing glass of water. Once again the triple distilled Irish whiskey wins! And as a lovely parting gift – a whiskey ginger with lime cocktail or whiskey on the rocks awaits you by the gift shop door. It really is an interesting tour and by the end even the non whiskey drinkers were having fun.

Traveling does remind us that our experience is not the experience of others. The factory did not introduce electricity to run the machines,etc until the early 1970’s. Until then water power from the giant waterwheel ( there are several on the property) was used. The surprising realization shared is that until almost that time, Ireland did not have electricity throughout the whole country. Bart shared he still recalled first getting electricity in his neighborhood as a child in Killarney in the late 1960’s. A very different experience than growing up in the states.

Kinsale is our new home away from home. We have a stunning view from our deck over all of the harbor. We find a paradox- while Europeans tend to eat later than Americans, small town Ireland does not. At 9:15 we could not find an open restaurant. Lesson learned. Well… a local grocery, a quick shop and trek back home for a late supper.

The morning breaks with a beautiful sunrise sparking on the harbor of Kinsale. We look out at the promising day- revise our plans and head out to explore. Charles Fort sits along the Scilly walk. We decide to check it out and what a good choice.

On a clear morning the charm of the village with its sail boats entering the breakaway to the sea, the many birds soaring overhead and the people opening up for the day is entertaining. The fort is more extensive with many buildings and displays. We took our time taking in the stories. The Governor’s House ( the chief general in charge) housed his family on the grounds of the fort.

The legend of the lady in white stems from there. On her wedding day, the governor’s daughter was over looking the lovely white flowers which grew far below the walls is the fort. Her new husband convinced one of the soldiers to climb down for him and pick them for him to give her on the condition they switch places, for the soldier was on guard duty. The husband, sitting watch in the tower, fell asleep . When her father, the general, made his nightly rounds, he discovered the man asleep and shot him immediately as it was a capitol offense to sleep while on watch, and the general ruled with an iron fist. When the bride, still in her wedding gown, learned of her husband’s fate, she flung herself off the walls of the fort to the rocks below. It is said to this day that the Lady in White roams the fort at night looking for slumbering soldiers to nudge them awake.

When we got back to the ticket area, we asked William ( the docent) some of his favorite and surprising stories stories of the fort. It was a delightful exchange. He told of the brutality of the punishments for those who violated the stringent codes and laws. The general and others imposed harsh penalties on the men.

He told us of a regiment who served there after having been in Canada. While stationed there they found an orphaned bear cub who they adopted for a mascot. When they returned to Ireland they traveled back across the sea to Kinsale with the cub, who by the time they arrived was a large gentle bear. When they loaded the bear on to the train to Kinsale. Terrified of the noises of trains, the bear tore up the car and climbed out on to the roof of the train as it came steaming into town. Such a sight!

An afternoon in Kinsale would not be complete without a pub lunch at the brightly colored Bulman Pub. It is within view of the fort and sits overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The hardy of Ireland ( though few) were going for a ” sea swim ” as a young girl explained to us. As a man dove into the surf, he shook off the water and waved back to his son ” it’s lovely “! As I tucked my hands into my pockets of the winter coat I was wearing, I thought it looks lovely… not tempted! Kinsale is a beautiful place. Don’t miss it.