The Wicklow Way

The Wicklow Way

After another delicious breakfast at the Design Center (scrambled eggs on soda bread with good Irish butter for Mike; porridge with blueberries and raspberry yoghurt for Kate, who appropriates the cute glass jars) we packed everything and headed for the car. Wait!!! Where did the car keys go?? A frantic 30 minutes later they were found... in Mike's front pocket, swallowed by his wallet.

When told that we were heading for Wicklow and the town of Bray, the Butler Hotel's day manager Richard asked "How adventurous are you feeling?" He told us of a couple from Philadelphia who'd arrived at the hotel in July. The pair came in, not speaking to each other. The driver simply threw himself down on the reception area couch; his wife moaned, "Where can I get a pitcher of margaritas?" They'd taken a series of rural roads between the coast and Kilkenny, the same path we were about to embark upon.

Undaunted (we're experienced Irish drivers now) we said goodbye to Kilkenny and, following Molly's crisp directions headed in the direction of Dublin and the coast. Have we mentioned yet that Ireland's roads are twisty, narrow, and free of most signage? Damn the signs, full speed ahead. And we were fine up to Ballymore Eustace where we lost the track toward Hollywood ("Twas named after yer fine Calyfornia city, doncha know?") After three or four false starts (we ended one in some poor fellow's driveway) we got back on track and continued toward Wicklow.

Slowly the green fields fell away as we climbed higher in these soft brown pine-topped mountains. The road twisted back and forth along the slope until suddenly we were at The Wicklow Gap, a crossing from west to east in the range. Then the road began to fall away revealing criss-crossed green fields and pastures again. Suddenly Kate cried out, "Look out! Killer sheep!" And there on the road ahead were three or four sheep grazing away at the narrow verge grass.

The rugged wilderness of the Wicklow mountains, combined with their inaccessability, once provided a safe hideout for opponents of English rule. When much of the southeast was obedient to the English crown, warlords such as the O'Tooles ruled in the mountains. Rebels who took part in the 1798 Fenian uprising sought refuge here too.

Glendalough is Ireland's most impressive monastic settlement, set in a beautiful narrow valley near two small lakes. It was founded by Saint Kevin in the 6th Century. The monastary flourished (despite repeated Viking raids) throughout the Age of Saints and Scholars until the English destroyed it in 1398. The main site contains a complete 30-meter tall round tower and the remains of a large chapel and several smaller buildings. The grounds are primarily a cemetery, still in use today. Glendalough is extremely peaceful and serene and well worth a two or three hour visit.

Molly took us through Enniskerry (the town nearest to Powerscourt which we intend to visit tomorrow morning) and thence to the seacoast at Bray. Bray is Ireland's 9th largest town (~32.000 residents) and its oldest seaside resort. Using Booking.com we'd secured a nice double room (€49 per night, off season) in the Esplanade Hotel on the Seafront. Many thanks to the local garda who directed us around road diversions and right to the hotel.

The Esplanade is right across from a beautiful wide sand and shingle beach. Here at the end of our journey across Ireland we stopped to deliver some gifts that we'd brought with us from California. As part of the 2013 "Gathering" we'd come to Ireland to bring the journeys of a part of Kate's and a part of Mike's families full circle. Our ancestors left this beautiful land to venture far across the sea to Canada and America and we are eternally grateful for the opportunitiies that their sacrifice and struggle have afforded us.

Tomorrow we complete our own circle, returning to Dublin for the flight home on Friday. This has been an amazing, beautiful, moving, joyful (and at times frustrating) trip. We appreciate all of you who have made the trip with us. Your comments and just your presence have kept us going. Thank you, friends.

Slan agus Balat ... Goodbye and God Bless!


Kate and Mike