Sunday, June 29, 2008

Living on the Edge: Inis Mór









I was on the edge of the world – peering over jagged cliffs into the churning blue ocean. Looking across the distance I could see the horizon crash into the water. The sun lost its spherical form and just blended with the bright sky. It’d be blinding save for $6 sunglasses.

Inis Mór, the largest of the Aran Islands in the very west of Ireland, conjured thoughts of the sublime. Stepping on the 1,000 BC rock made me lose my sense of time and space. I have never been anywhere more dramatic or thought-provoking than the cliffs of Inis Mór.

The ferry ride from Galway to the Aran Islands (€18) was hilarious to say the least. Sitting on the back of the 150-seat cruiser, the waves jumped up while on the choppy waters, giving Miriam and I an impromptu salt-water shower. Between fits of giggles, we stumbled toward the inner cabin for the remainder of the ride.

Once you disembark, lines of tour buses will be waiting to tempt you. I suggest you take one—because we didn’t and we should have. Instead, we set off on foot, grabbing a sandwich to take along at the one and only grocery store on the island.

On our hunt for a picturesque spot to eat, we were passed by warp speed minibuses, most signaling that they’d pick us up. But we found some flat rocks overlooking the Atlantic, so we picnicked in the Irish wind.

We kept to the trek and hiked a hill or two, until a tour bus had the decency to stop for us. He offered a ride to the fort and cliffs (€5), which were miles away. Our driver—along with most people we encountered on the island—was so nice, I need a new word for nice. Once we were dropped off at the fort, he organized a ride back to the port for us.

The short hike to the top of Dún Aengus is lined with Bronze Age walls, with jagged remnants on the ground below (caution: do not attempt to wear flip flops on this journey!). Through the stone wall opening, the drama unfolds. We were nearly knocked over by the gusts of wind making its presence known. When I saw the view from atop, I couldn’t help but exhale in absolute awe.

After the photos are snapped and the video captured, sit on the cliff and soak in the sun (if you’re so lucky to have it shine). It could take minutes or hours, but take the time to take it all in: the view, the trip, the life around you.

On the way back to the ferry, we couldn’t help but grin. Joe Gill drove us in his minibus and answered questions about the island (population: 800, average house price: €250,000, major industry: tourism). This time around we selected the interior ferry seats, being we had just dried off from the last venture.

The arandirect ferry was pleasant, but let me recommend any other company so you can take a 7:30 p.m. return instead of the 5 p.m. – you’ll need as much of the day as possible on the island if it is only a day trip. There seems to be enough to do if you desire an overnight stay – with plenty of bed and breakfasts or hostels dotted around the island. A 45-minute bus ride took us back to the city centre from the Rossaveal Port (€6) by 7 p.m. Expect a fully loaded coach on that last service back to civilization.

Inis Mór provided me with much needed perspective and a brilliant photo-op. I’ll always remember those crashing waves, the staggering cliffs, and stepping up to the edge of the world and smiling.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Getting to the Root of It All: The Drive with My Dad

If you can hire a car and manage stickshift on the other side of the road, take a few days to tour around England. There’s more to see on this island than London and I was lucky enough to have my dad here in March to show me. Being that I can’t hire a car, manage stickshift, or drive on the other side of the road, it was a good thing he got here.

My first stop on the tour with the pop was Hereford, about two hours from Oxford. His cousin Tony lives there with wife Sandra, and they showed us a wonderful time. Situated on the River Wye, which seems to wind all along the area, Hereford was a lovely stop on the driving adventure.

We headed a few miles out of town to The Green Man for drinks and dinner. Sitting in a place that pre-dates America certainly brings some historical perspective to the table, as this restaurant/inn dates back to 1485. A few Stowford Press Ciders later our food arrived and tasted of pure perfection. The menu was laden with delicious options, but I’ve got to recommend the chicken kiev.

The next morning we woke up to the best English breakfast I’ve ever had, but unless you know Tony and Sandra, don’t expect to get one. We left the house fairly early to head to York, a few hours away in north Yorkshire.

The Marriott on the edge of town near the racecourse was a welcomed sight, as it had been awhile since I could partake in the plush comforts of a nice hotel. Hitting up hostels is all good fun, but traveling with the rents means better quality, and the Marriott spells quality. In other words, I could leave the shower shoes at home.

York is a truly trendy spot in northern England, with hipster restaurants and pubs dotting the streets of this walled city. We took in a pint at a pub along the river and then found one of many Indian restaurants in the city centre. The Akash Tandoori provided a decent meal and good service, and it was one of the more traditional curry houses opposed to some of the modern establishments in the area that lack charm.

No trip to York is complete without a visit to the York Minister, as it's the largest Gothic cathedral in northern Europe. When my brother was there as a kid, he was sure to apologize to a security guard about the fire that destroyed the place in 741.

From York we took to the road and found ourselves in my dad’s old stomping grounds, a village named Wetwang (seriously). Driving along the Yorkshire Wolds and discovering this village of his past made the trip worthwhile. He escaped to this country landscape to spend the summers with his grandmother as a child.

We then stopped over in Hull so I could meet my great aunt. Molly, my paternal grandfather’s sister, is fantastic. We chatted up a storm about past, present, and future family affairs. We then crossed the Humber Bridge to meet up with another one of his cousins, David, at The Whistle and Flute pub. A cider and a good chat later we set off again.

Our last stop on the journey landed us in Lincoln, a place my mom spent several weeks studying Tennyson as a graduate student at the Tennyson Research Centre. As recommended by my Frommer’s Guide to England, we booked into the White Hart Hotel. Full of history, this hotel saw the likes of Churchill, Eisenhower, and Margaret Thatcher. Of course, history doesn’t always translate to comfort. The halls were like mazes and the beds were like boards. For about 160 pounds, the only redeeming feature of this hotel was the view of the cathedral.

On the very appropriately named Steep Hill Street, you’ll find Browns Pie Shop, a cozy, atmospheric restaurant. Think of a pie filling and it’ll be there, but I’m not talking typical dessert pies, these are proper pies you can only find in northern England. I dove into a fisherman’s pie, stuffed with salmon and halibut, in a creamy parsley sauce, and topped with a layer of mashed potatoes. My dad tried out something different and went for the venison and blackcurrent pie, with a crusty top keeping in the piping hot mixture. And if you need to work off the pie, just hike up the hill back to the cathedral… it’s sure to give you a full cardio work out.

We braved the rain soaked motorway and made it back to London the next day. It was a great trip to connect to my roots and see the country where my roots were planted. Even if you don’t have family in the area, looking beyond London can only bring you a smile, as this land is diverse and charming. Start practicing that stickshift and whole other side of the road thing ASAP.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Stay Tuned: Upcoming Blogs

After a blogging respite, I'll be back in travel action soon. Stay tuned for the following updates, to be completed in the next few weeks after I get back from a Euro adventure!

  • Hereford, York, Lincoln
  • Budapest
  • Munich
  • Black Forest/Bavaria