Day 4: Bulls & Bulmers

This is one of a series of entries from my travel journal chronicling my recent trip to Europe. You can click here for the archived entries.

Day 3 | Day 5

Bushe's Bar, Baltimore, W. Cork, Rep. of Ireland 09/06/08

I woke up this morning shortly before noon to the sound of people leaving. I found myself alone, my Mom typically having refused to wake me up despite my interest in the day's activities. I had gone so far as to pull my blind all the way up the night before; it was partially successful as I awoke around 8:30 or so but quickly fell back asleep. Next thing I know it's 3 1/2 hours later and I'm all alone. I located a note on the kitchen table saying that everyone had gone off on the ferry to Sherkin Island. There were many trips in the afternoon on the ferry schedule so I opted to shoot for the 2pm ferry. I cooked up an "Irish" breakfast with eggs and bacon I had purchased the day before. The bacon was different than that in the States. Thicker, fatty around the edges, much saltier (if that's even possible) and tasted more like ham than what we Americans are used to. I imagine the cut of meat and curing process are very different. Although different, it was great along with the eggs, soda bread, and some tea. I caught some Irish soap operas as I ate (same bad plots and acting but with more interesting accents) and then made my way down to the ferry at the harbor.

Sherkin is a sizeable island just 10 minutes' ferry ride from Baltimore Harbor. There's an old friary that they've been reconstructing in recent years as well as a "castle" - really just a bunch of ivy-covered stones with a bunch of modern equipment lying around ruining what little historic effect it retained.

Only a few minutes after I had gotten off the ferry and had begun meandering up a path did I hear, "Mike! Michael!" and turned around to see my early-rising relatives just down the path behind me. We decided to head out to Sherkin Light, which is the small lighthouse that we had seen directly across from the Beacon yesterday. We walked down a path which we thought was the correct way (although with little confidence) and came across a small schoolhouse with a woman out front. Mom asked her the way to the lighthouse and she went to get her husband:

-"Oh it's been some time since I've taken the walk meself but it's a nice walk. Follow this path a ways and you'll come to a low stone wall. At the end of the wall turn...left...yes, left. Stay on that path and you'll come to a sign that says, "Caution: Bull" but don't worry, I don't think there's a bull there anymore."
-(General city-slicker nervousness, questioning glances, discussion of turning around and retracing our steps to go the other way.)
-"Well I think this way will be better. T'other might be a bit shorter but this is more scenic."

So we set off on a bit of a hike - bulls be damned in the name of scenery! - walking down a very quiet, country island path. We came upon a swan at ease in a cove. After we snapped a few shots she took off, skimming along the water with a great honking, sounding not unlike my uncle who had been suffering due to his allergies and the preponderance of flora around us. Eventually we made it to the end of the short stone wall which our guide mentioned and embarked on a hike up a path leading us to Horseshoe Bay. This was an idyllic hike through lovely greenery, the occasional cottage, and impressive vistas of hills, ponds, breakwaters, and other nice natural scenery. After a while we came right up in front of some Sherkin Islander's house that just overlooked Horseshoe Bay - and what an amazing sight it was. In true form to its name, the Bay carved out a wide circle from its narrow opening. The view was just incredible. Words fail me - clear blue water bordered by rocky promontories and beaches in a lush, green bowl of a valley - it was majestic.

At this point however we had to retrace our steps, being close to the southern tip of the Bay and having no way to cross if we had kept going. So we cut back and meandered down and around the Bay. We went down to the water's edge and took some cool pics at low tide. Very rocky with a lot of seaweed, moss, lichen, and flowers growing down by the shore, which provided us with a wonderfully colorful view. We regained our path and made it up and around to the opposite side of the Bay, past the Horseshoe Cottage Bed & Breakfast, where we came to a fenced-in area. The sign on the gate read:

Caution: BULL
Unauthorized Access Forbidden

Despite our local guide's warning us of this exact landmark, we were understandably nervous. The last thing one wants is to be gored to death trying to get a few pics of a lighthouse, right? My Mom was good enough to wander into the B & B and ask ("Oh we don't think there's a bull. Only cows.") so we pressed on with trepidation ("Liam, be sure to take off that red hat!") past the hopefully specious warning. My aunt's concern however did not extend to keeping my 11 year-old cousin out of the lead - or perhaps this was planned? Either way we trudged onward through a path that became less and less of one as we kept going forward, and had to dodge a large number of cowpies which appeared with increasing frequency and freshness. These were impressive excretory deposits, measuring about a foot in circumference and several inches high - wet, stinking mounds of processed grass having traveled through the cows' many stomachs and intestines. Amazing objects from a scatalogical perspective.

Just over the ridge we saw the lighthouse, which comprised a tiny cottage and a 15-foot high light tower, but the view - oh the view. It had to have been the most amazing, majestic, picturesque, pick-your-superlative view I have ever seen. Truly a jaw-dropping experience. It was a gorgeous, bright, sunny day and we could see clear across to the Beacon as well as the rest of Baltimore and a great deal of Roaringwater Bay. A tremendous experience, well worth the hike and theoretical bulls.

We made our way back to the ferry by taking the second route offered to us by our friend (would've saved us about 45 minutes' worth of time as well as innumerable brambles and cowpies but to be honest the way we went was far superior in terms of view, adventure, experience and enjoyment. Everyone else wanted to catch the 4:15 ferry (it was around 3:45) but I wanted to explore the rest of the island a bit having been abandoned by Mom that morning.

We parted ways and I went searching for the "Dock Studio," which I took to be some sort of artistic endeavor. The sign claimed it was 3/4 mile down the road. Even by Irish standards of distance, I walked for a long time without finding it. I decided to cut my losses rather than traverse the entire island and head to the Jolly Roger, one of two pubs on the island (apparently this is what Bob Clarke meant when he said, "a bit of a pub scene").

The place wasn't exactly bustling. There was a table of four or five laborers out front and a young local woman with her beautiful baby inside, along with the young female bartender with too many piercings and unflattering camouflage pants. The dogs running around the place inside and out outnumbered the people by at least 2:1. I grabbed a pint of Guinness and today's Irish Times and set to quenching my thirst, whiling away the time until the next ferry and trying to make sense of the upcoming Lisbon Treaty vote - a referendum for Ireland's participation in an otherwise unanimous EU treaty (curious that Ireland alone refers such decisions to the people instead of letting the politicians decide). I enjoyed my drink but it was difficult to fit in - one American amidst a group of Sherkin Islanders blathering away in English - albeit a slangy, heavily accented English - in which the only words I understood were the admittedly quite frequent profanities - so I drank up and left. Turns out the timing was good because the rest of the crew had to wait for the 17:00 ferry anyway because the earlier one had been cancelled.

We headed back to Baltimore. I sat outside Bushe's Bar for a few minutes in the brilliant sunshine enjoying my first extremely refreshing pint of Bulmers cider (I saw many others drinking it over ice - next time I get it I plan on doing the same). Back to the house to regroup and then I returned to Bushe's for a couple pints of Guinness, a crab sandwich (fresh, simple, and delicious) and some postcard- and journal-writing. My relatives joined me; Mom was convalescing. We took a sunset walk up along the hill behind the town which was very nice. We ended the night with wine, cheese and plans to head out to the Beara Peninsula tomorrow to check out where my grandfather's parents came from.