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Ramblings of a Polymath (more like a ferret) & His S
I'll make this one very brief. Not one of my best days and best not shared in it's entirety. I'm writing this on Wednesday evening in Kenmare.
On Friday last, we attempted too much. OK, I attempted too much. I had identified a number of very remote sites that I just had to see while traveling down the centre of Northern Ireland and given that it would have been a five or six hour drive without stops, there wasn't much margin for error, and errors there were.
I made the mistake of pitting TomTom against Ches. She had two maps. A map of Ireland and the more detailed AA Road Atlas of Ireland. TomTom had a freshly downloaded Ireland database. I set TomTom to Galway via, Cookstown, Enniskillen and Athlone. I set Ches to Arboe High Cross, East of Cookstown on the shores of Lough Neagh.
So, I made the first mistake. Ches missed the first turnoff and I saw the second. I took it. Half an hour or so later, after wandering around one car wide lanes, we made it the 10km to Arboe.
It was a stunningly sunny morning, the lake was sparking, the monastery and graveyard was well manicured and one of the oldest stone crosses in Ireland was spectacular. Unfortunately it is very worn and I wonder if they have plans to cover it with a shelter to protect from the elements. From a time when few people could read, the four sides of the cross are carved with the main stories of the old and new testament and the idea was that the people would be told the stories by the priests and the cross would be a trigger for them to remember.
Back to Cookstown we again had difficulty finding the road across to Enniskillen via Omagh, off which was a restored Beetling Mill. Something to do with softening linen. Given my families history in the linen industry in Scotland, it sounded interesting (my GGGGG Grandfather had managed the linen bleaching operations at Grantown and Elgin). A sign indicated that it was up ahead. Then we passed a sign advising of trout fishing and no mention of the mill. b*****. No time to correct mistakes. On to the stone circles 10 KM off the road near Dunnamore. Success. Despite the fact that two guys were whipper snipping the field and the sound kinda detracted from the experience, we had time to explore and photograph.
On to Enniskillen for lunch and three or four major castles and other must see sites. Ches and TomTom began arguing. I spat the dummy when Ches led me into the main street, which was one way and congested for the full length because of a wedding at the church at the end of the street. To cut a long story short, we saw the castle and abandoned the town. I had planned on passing Florence Court, a Palladian mansion. Now it became a destination. Great decision. It is magnificent and so tranquil that a long walk around the grounds and gardens restored the equilibrium of both of us.
On previous driving holidays, I have repeatedly turned into Mr Hyde over navigational issues. I wasn't going to continue to spoil Ches's holiday, so I retired the maps and let TomTom have his head. There was no longer time to visit Clonmacnoise monastery south of Athlone, so I asked TomTom to direct us to Galway. He said there were two options; via Sligo to the west and then south or via Athlone and then on the Dublin-Galway motorway west. The time difference between the two was 3 minutes. Logic suggested that more time on a motorway rather than narrow country roads was preferable. That's the route we chose and while Ches corrected him a couple of times, TomTom saw us arrive on the outskirts of Galway on schedule at around 6.00 pm.
Even TomTom couldn't save us from the peak-hour congestion in traveling through to Barna on Galway Bay, around 10ks the other side of Galway.
Here we were greeted by John & Ann waving to us from the end of the lane to guide us down to their daughter and son-in laws (Rachel & John) house on the bay. As I have said already, what a wonderful home in such a stunning setting right on the water with views across to the Burren and out to the Aran Islands.
John & Ann took us to a local for dinner and we had a wonderful reunion, and all but the best of the days memories were washed away.
On Friday last, we attempted too much. OK, I attempted too much. I had identified a number of very remote sites that I just had to see while traveling down the centre of Northern Ireland and given that it would have been a five or six hour drive without stops, there wasn't much margin for error, and errors there were.
I made the mistake of pitting TomTom against Ches. She had two maps. A map of Ireland and the more detailed AA Road Atlas of Ireland. TomTom had a freshly downloaded Ireland database. I set TomTom to Galway via, Cookstown, Enniskillen and Athlone. I set Ches to Arboe High Cross, East of Cookstown on the shores of Lough Neagh.
So, I made the first mistake. Ches missed the first turnoff and I saw the second. I took it. Half an hour or so later, after wandering around one car wide lanes, we made it the 10km to Arboe.
It was a stunningly sunny morning, the lake was sparking, the monastery and graveyard was well manicured and one of the oldest stone crosses in Ireland was spectacular. Unfortunately it is very worn and I wonder if they have plans to cover it with a shelter to protect from the elements. From a time when few people could read, the four sides of the cross are carved with the main stories of the old and new testament and the idea was that the people would be told the stories by the priests and the cross would be a trigger for them to remember.
Back to Cookstown we again had difficulty finding the road across to Enniskillen via Omagh, off which was a restored Beetling Mill. Something to do with softening linen. Given my families history in the linen industry in Scotland, it sounded interesting (my GGGGG Grandfather had managed the linen bleaching operations at Grantown and Elgin). A sign indicated that it was up ahead. Then we passed a sign advising of trout fishing and no mention of the mill. b*****. No time to correct mistakes. On to the stone circles 10 KM off the road near Dunnamore. Success. Despite the fact that two guys were whipper snipping the field and the sound kinda detracted from the experience, we had time to explore and photograph.
On to Enniskillen for lunch and three or four major castles and other must see sites. Ches and TomTom began arguing. I spat the dummy when Ches led me into the main street, which was one way and congested for the full length because of a wedding at the church at the end of the street. To cut a long story short, we saw the castle and abandoned the town. I had planned on passing Florence Court, a Palladian mansion. Now it became a destination. Great decision. It is magnificent and so tranquil that a long walk around the grounds and gardens restored the equilibrium of both of us.
On previous driving holidays, I have repeatedly turned into Mr Hyde over navigational issues. I wasn't going to continue to spoil Ches's holiday, so I retired the maps and let TomTom have his head. There was no longer time to visit Clonmacnoise monastery south of Athlone, so I asked TomTom to direct us to Galway. He said there were two options; via Sligo to the west and then south or via Athlone and then on the Dublin-Galway motorway west. The time difference between the two was 3 minutes. Logic suggested that more time on a motorway rather than narrow country roads was preferable. That's the route we chose and while Ches corrected him a couple of times, TomTom saw us arrive on the outskirts of Galway on schedule at around 6.00 pm.
Even TomTom couldn't save us from the peak-hour congestion in traveling through to Barna on Galway Bay, around 10ks the other side of Galway.
Here we were greeted by John & Ann waving to us from the end of the lane to guide us down to their daughter and son-in laws (Rachel & John) house on the bay. As I have said already, what a wonderful home in such a stunning setting right on the water with views across to the Burren and out to the Aran Islands.
John & Ann took us to a local for dinner and we had a wonderful reunion, and all but the best of the days memories were washed away.
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