That's How the Light Gets In

We were out on lands-end of the coast...not far from our B&B, near Sligo, Ireland.

The air was crisp and we watched the local students learning to sail and a few tourists wheeling their luggage around. It was clearly after the tourist deluge. The streets were empty.

I needed coffee and saw that Paddy's Place ... A sort of local 7-11 was there on the quay.

Indeed they had a coffee machine for cappuccino and lattes and tea.

I got a watered down cappuccino and walked up and spoke to...I suppose it was Paddy. (Is there any other name for an Irishman who owns a store or pub?)

"Pretty quiet town," I said...which usually gets any Irishman to talking about philosophy, rugby, the Kardasians, PSA scores....it really doesn't take much.

"Yep, I like it this way," said Paddy, which didn't seem like a wish for good business.

Trying to draw him out I asked..."Were you born here?"

"Nah, I was born in Dublin."

You're a long way from home up here." I commented.

Yeah, I like it here....I'm hiding out.

"Well, I found you!"

Yeah, but I'm still hiding out."

And so the day began.

We are just a few miles north of Sligo and I feel as if we are sandwiched in between the sea and the mountains. Can you call these "mountains"? They look pretty mountainous to this Midwestern-flatlander-boy.

And....once again, I ponder as to what it would be like to grow up near, or to live near the sea. The color of the sky which sometimes blends in with the sea. The crisp air...the tides revealing the muddy bottoms of the shallow areas and the mysterious movement of those tides that sailors have to master.

                          

When we arrived at our Airbnb the other day, our hostess told us of several walks and drives around the area, particularly along the coast. 

"You'll see a castle just north of here along the coast, you can't miss it, it is owned by the Mountbattens. Many years ago when Lord Mountbatten was visiting, the IRA blew him and his family up while they were on their yacht!"

Daughter Makaila looked interested but an event from 1979 may as well have been in 1779 to her. I, alas, am old enough to recall the "Troubles" in Northern Ireland just next door. And I clearly remembered Prince Charles favorite uncle "Dickie" Mountbatten being assassinated by the IRA to make a political point.

But our hostess suddenly realized that pointing out a nearby terrorist activity as a claim to tourism...though it was 40 years ago....may not be the best selling point for her business.

      

She quickly assured us that the terrorism was long in its past. Indeed, it is. We stopped in from of the Mountbatten gates (MB Crest on the pillar) and took a photo and moments later at huge tour bus the size of a 747 pulled up with 86 tourists who also started snapping away.

We left the tourists and Paddy and the seaside behind as we ventured onward.

           

But, lest you think we are too far out there. A few miles back down the road is Sligo, Ireland and it's lively bar-restaurant-tourist scene are filled with big-city events like....Jazz and Soul night on Fridays. Who'd have thought way out here that Soul music would be a thing...and yet...good music is good music....and people all over the world relate to that.

I've heard Dave Brubeck's "Take Five" played in nightclubs in Zambia and in Sri Lanka.

And...it's all good music.

                

Here's the thing.....

If you go to the north a few miles of where we are staying for a couple days, you arrive at the sea. If you go south for a mile...you hit the mountains. We explored the road that took us to the foothills and all the sheep farms. And then we split the mountains through a nice road that went between and found ourselves at Manorhamilton....obviously a British-infused name here in Ireland. Sure enough the Hamilton family had holdings and a castle and who knows what else here in this part of Ireland.

A castle remains (above)...in part. We could view it as we ate our lunch. The town was quaint and we walked it and then headed for another manor-house about 30 miles away with a quick stop to see the waterfalls.

                              

                     Glencar Falls

                      

Our destination was Lissadel House...formerly a grand manor house...on the order of Downton Abbey (for you PBS'ers)

This was a British Manor...right here in the middle of Ireland. I was sort of expecting a tour through the house and to see all of its faded grandeur and how it was being restored to its former glory.

                           

What we got was far different, and far more interesting.

Our guide was an Irishman whose family had formerly been employed by the former estate owners. His grandfather had worked here for 60 years or so and had seen it in its glory and seen it as the entire Aristocracy fell to ruins.

Our guide looked us over...there were but three of us on the tour. A young Irish woman and Makaila and me. He hinted that he was not going to hold back on his Irish view of the hated British and their system of keeping the Irish down. I assured him that we were American and could not be easily offended if he did not support the Queen and the system that enslaved Ireland for centuries.

And...he was off!

He explained the British system and how it had held Ireland back for centuries and how the aristocracy dined in luxury as the masses were starving during the Great Hunger of the mid 1800's.

              

We wandered through the partially restored and partially destroyed grand manor home hearing stories of the English family that held the lives of so many Irish in their hands through their domination of the land holding system.

                   

He held nothing back...giving us behind-the-scenes stories of the English family (that he knew because of his grandfather's service in the house for decades.)

For us Americans...the closest we had come to a glimpse of such life was through Downton Abbey on PBS. There are thousand ways that one could tell the story of the class structures. But consider this....

         

The manor house had different sets of stairs for the family and another for the servants. I actually did know that...so the maids and butlers could scurry around unseen by the family. But within the Servants' stairs, there were actually two sets of stairs...so that the senior servants could walk up and down the stairs and not be bothered by the lower staff.

                 

And if you were a servant and leaving the manor for a rare day off or going for an errand into the nearby town.....

     

You would leave an return via and underground tunnel that emerged out of sight of the manor...so that you the servant could not glimpse the grandeur of the house that you are serving and so that the family living there would not be encumbered by the sight of your presence.

By the end of the tour ..... I was ready to take up the battle flag and charge the parapets and destroy the system that I had never been a part of.  A grand, glorious and ultimately tragic history.

(I'll be in Sir Josslyn's Study should I be needed of any further assistance.)

Peace,  Bob