Ireland

        I visited my ancestral home only once.  I was excited to come to Ireland after working in Israel.  I landed at Heathrow.  I had to travel through the countryside to the ferry landing going to Ireland.  The railway through London was awesome.  It was an all night trip by sea.

     In the morning we reached the coast of Ireland.  I recognized a man having a heart attack and found the medical officer on the ferry. We soon had him resting with an aspirin under his tongue.   His chest pains subsided.

       I made my way to Dublin and found a hostel to stay in with the help of an Australian who worked for the Fisheries protecting Australian waters from poaching.  He knew his way around.  The next day I found my way to a music store looking for Irish reels and jigs that are hard to find in America.  I got in the habit of pubbing in Dublin.  I walked into a pub after hearing her fiddle.  I was like a moth to a flame. She was sitting there with the fiddle strapped to her shoulder. This was astounding to me. How is that possible? When you think about it that is the safest place for a fiddle in a bar. If you don't want to lose your glasses always wear them. Similarly keeping you fiddle under your chin insures that you know where it is at all times.                Nothing can happen to it like a spilled drink or careless patrons leaving fingerprints. That way the thing can never walk away.
    No one told me there was no heat in these hostels. The only escape was to sleep. I wore my clothes to bed which was nothing more than bunk beds with drunks and runaways in them.   I had the violin I bought in Tel Aviv with me.  I finally got it adjusted and learned the first position scale of notes. Second position was next. I never could seem to master third position. Something was wrong with the instrument. It had no voice.  Projection is what you want in a good violin.   Especially if you are busking for your meals.  That was my plan.   I would have nearly starved if that was my only l skill I was selling.  Fortunately, I had a few bucks left on my credit card.  I was making my way to Galway.
      My days were spent practicing in the cold sunshine outdoors where the breeze carried away the tunes I was scraping out on this Chinese made fiddle.  It was probably put together in one afternoon by some sweat shop carpenter.  The guy who sold it to me in Tel Aviv was a Muslim who lied about the instrument.  Never buy when you are sleepless. You become easy fodder. The bow was signed so it was of value.   My brother has it hanging on the wall of his cabin.  This violin was nothing like the West German Strad copy I bought in Honolulu for a pittance as a basket case.  I put that one together at sea when traveling in the South Pacific. I subsequently sold it for 100 bucks when Debbie and I lived together.  She was  enthralled with sailing. We almost managed to buy a liveaboard.  All those deals fell through when the reality of West Lynn overtook us. She and I had great fun going to breakfast at the many sidewalk cafes that line the streets of Portland.  All is not lost except you wake up out of the dream and start looking for work. Tis a hard life we lead.....
    I stayed in a hostel close to a river in Ireland  It was a stone farmhouse in its former glory.  The farmer who ran it wore the rubber boots of farm life.  I felt at home. I wandered around the quays and inlets.These waterways were filled with skiffs and pole boats. The scene was very serene.  Tranquil is its nature.   Finding proper food is always a challenge. You ate what was available. That means a lot of prepackaged bread products and few vegetables.  Once the hole in my stomach was filled nicely, I was ready for more adventure. 

     I managed an invitation to ride with some blokes with a rental car. As we traveled along we stopped for breakfast at a tavern along the road close to the beach. Irish breakfasts are truly heart stopping meals that are smothered in gravy and fried eggs swimming in grease.  Completed with a variety of jams and jellies, sauces and pork products all served by the girl in traditional gingham with the huge, homecoming smile.  They last all day and keep you warm from the chilly sea breezes that blow over the lands.

       There was so much to see and do.   I chose to go to Galway then to the Cliffs of Mohr.  I stayed at cheap hostels along the way.  When I brought the fiddle out there was always a crowd to listen.  By passing the instrument around to other musicians I learned new techniques and gathered many suggestions. 

       I stayed at the Rainbow hostel because there was a pub nearby.  Standing on ground where my ancestors stood was remarkable.  It spoke to me of the connectivity of life and the circular motion of the Universe.  

       I was certainly colder than I had been in Israel. They call it burning the turf. They are talking about burning peat in the wee stoves and burners of the countryside. 

       Peat is remarkable because it is what one would call pre-coal.  It has all of the BTU's of bitumin but not anthracite coal which is denser.  These differences could mean a shivering winter or a toasty roaster that dispels the cold.   

    You can see the Aran Islands from the vantage point in Galway. These islands in the sun are near the mouth of Galway Bay which is about as Irish as you can get in this lifetime. There were many Saints who visited these islands.  There is a story of the old well with healing properties. The islands truly reflect the Irish Christian compassion. Islands have always been my calling.
     Lying upon the Cliffs of Mohr and looking down on the circling seagulls is a tremendous feeling.   The tour buses line up as the day progresses. The buses are dispensing its humanity to visit the castle there on the bluff.  

    There are many castles in Ireland. These people were no dummies.  These historic sites are so valuable for the Irish.  Soon I was traveling north to Northern Ireland. The troubles were still happening and were very disturbing. At least, I  can say I stayed one night without hearing a shot fired.  

      I made my way down to County Mayo and eventually booked a plane to the Dominican Republic which was a lot cheaper than flying direct to the States. It is very black in the DR. You must be careful if you are showing white skin. I had my boots polished at the airport that I had bought second hand in SLC.   Doing so gives you a moment to look around and gather information.  My boots were fleece lined with the side zip that I like so much. I had these boots rebuilt many times before finally giving them up in San Diego. These were my world tour boots that served me well protecting my feet from so much.   Always take good care of your feet. You just never know when you will be walking again.