Cobh & Kinsale, Ireland, 6/13/2016, National Geographic Orion
Aboard the
National Geographic Orion
Europe aboard NG Orion
The morning began grey and heavy, before the clouds cleared allowing the sunshine to beam down on the wonderful, colourful town of Cobh. St. Colman’s Cathedral is the dominant feature and towers over the town. Its grey granite spire contrasted sharply with the multi-coloured houses and shops which are nestled snugly into the steep hillside overlooking the sea. An early start meant that we witnessed the town waking from its slumber and before long it was bustling with activity with the brightly coloured boats to-ing and fro-ing between the islands in Cork Harbour. We visited monuments which pay tribute to victims of the many tragic maritime events associated with the town, and the Heritage Centre vividly recounted the famine-time emigration of over a million people to the USA and Canada. During our stroll around the town we encountered the pier from which tenders started passengers on an ill-fated journey on board Titanic – Cobh (formerly Queenstown) was the final port of call.
During the afternoon, we headed west to Kinsale; another coastal town in County Cork, steeped in history including the Battle of Kinsale in 1601 in which the English defeated Irish resistance, setting the scene for centuries of conflict which continued until recent times (The Troubles). The afternoon spent in Kinsale was a rich culinary, historic and cultural experience as we sampled local artisan food (such as smoked fish) and listened to traditional music in the Kinsale Yacht Club. The meandering streets and colourful shops of Kinsale invited us to explore, and between the soft showers of mist rolling in off the Atlantic, we dipped in and out of book shops, cafes and pubs. As dusk descended, we left the sheltered waters of Kinsale Harbour: bound for the west of Ireland.
For as long as he can remember, Conor has always been preoccupied with the natural world, from the whales to the fungi. For most of his life he has been an islander: growing up in Cobh, Ireland and settling down in Tobermory in the Hebrides, Scotland...
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Today, a day after the seismic vote by the United Kingdom to leave the European Union, we found ourselves in the United Kingdom for the only day of the voyage, the six counties of Ulster having been excluded from an independent Ireland following the treaty of 1922. Northern Ireland, as it happens, voted to remain in the European Union, its economy and more importantly its state of peace predicated on political and economic integration rather than separation. A full day saw us visit the UNESCO World Heritage Site of the Giant’s Causeway, a geological wonder with over 40,000 interlocking columnar basalt columns that speak to the origins of the island of Ireland in deep geological time. The site has been the fount of Irish folklore with associations with the mighty giant Finn McCool. Old Bushmills whiskey distillery nearby is a remarkable institution having been distilling uisce breaha continuously for over four hundred years and our tour, followed by tasting in the Still Room, gave us a superb introduction to an ancient craft. Later, in Belfast, after a tour of both Catholic and Protestant districts, we met for a guided visit to the new Titanic Museum in the redeveloped docklands of Belfast. The museum is one of several such projects in Britain, inspired by the success of the Guggenheim in Bilbao in successfully kick-starting urban regeneration. The Titanic Centre is a contemporary structure, inspired by the ill-fated Titanic and by its iceberg nemesis that, on 14 April 1912 when 1517 men, women and children lost their lives as “the unsinkable ship” slowly sank. Our last evening aboard National Geographic Orion was a festive one: the Captain’s Farewell Dinner and guest slideshow reminding us how much we had experienced in just one week circumnavigating the rich and varied island of Ireland.
Our day in Killybegs and its surroundings offered a look into Ireland's past and a vision of its future. This is a country where history reveals itself around every turn, and sometimes the juxtapositions between the old and the new can be quite jarring. Today, we saw ancient monuments from prehistoric times incongruously sitting by the side of the road like druidic traffic signs. We visited a model village where we witnessed techniques for knitting traditional fishing nets and weaving ropes from straw on the same day we passed by factories of fast-growing, hi-tech electronics companies specializing in outfitting ships across the world with the latest technologies. The dock where National Geographic Orion berthed in Killybegs, a quiet, somewhat non-descript village that happens to be Ireland's largest fishing port, was lined with the enormous disassembled sections of brand-new wind turbines, destined to provide clean energy for this fast-developing country. Even our young guide at Glencolmcille Folk Center, which was established over 50 years ago to preserve the architecture, artifacts, and folk traditions of this region's rural communities represented Ireland's blend of old and new. Above his waist Kevin was dressed in a classic Irish tweed vest over a traditional pullover shirt that would have fit right into a pre-twentieth century daguerreotype print. He complemented this traditional look with sweat pants and Adidas. Kevin might not have intended to symbolize the ways in which modernity and tradition exist side by side in Ireland, but I couldn't resist making the metaphorical comparison. Our journey through the hill country southwest of Donegal took us past magnificent views, moss-covered ruins, and up and down nerve-wracking single-track roads, where every oncoming vehicle required a series of polite maneuvers in order to allow both parties to proceed on their way. At one point, we found ourselves in a small village where we stopped to pay a visit to a local woolen craft studio where veteran weavers churn out beautiful tweed on traditional looms. We spoke to one man behind a loom, John, who had been working here for 46 years. I asked him if it was backbreaking work, sitting on the hard wooden bench of an old loom every day, pushing levers back and forth to create the intricately patterned cloth that is used to make iconic Irish hats, scarves, and jackets. Quite the contrary, John told me. He loved his work, which had afforded him a happy life that he was proud of. While none of his sons continued in the tradition, he pointed at the young man sitting at the loom behind him who led John to have confidence that this important handicraft will continue to be practiced by future generations. Our day ended at the Bayview Pub in the center of Killybegs, where we were treated to a live performance by Socks in the Frying Pan, one of the hottest up-and-coming bands in the Irish traditional music scene. Brothers Shane and Fiachra Hayes, the former playing button accordion and the latter violin, with guitarist Aodan Coyne rounding out the trio, presented a virtuosic set that ranged from upbeat jigs and reels to haunting acapella ballads. All three hail from Ennis in County Clare, considered one of the epicenters of Irish traditional music today. They were raised by musical families who gave them the techniques, repertoire, and passion for Irish music that led these three 20-something musicians to pursue careers in the traditional music arena. Watching these three young musicians bringing new influences and youthful creativity to folk songs that have been passed down for generations was a fitting end to a day in which the past and the future existed side by side in perfect harmony.
There is a sense of permanence here, a sense that this is the only way it can be. It seems so perfect, meandering our way through the landscapes of Ireland. We step forward and back in time at a rate that sometimes makes your head spin, every new vista hurling us back into the Mesolithic, or dragging us back to the modern world or perhaps even looking ahead to the way it might be. Time leaps to and fro in thousands of years, sometimes millions! It seems an age ago that we moved south from Dublin, through the fertile south coast and to the towns and villages of Kerry that welcomed us so warmly and to the Aran Islands and the fort of Dun Aoenghus. Yet, today was different again, which seems impossible in the space of twenty miles. Here we are in rock, that most permanent of things. The Connemara landscape speaks of this permanence, rigid against the world, with a rocky beauty all of its own. There is stone everywhere, sheep grazed highlands, the occasional village full of smiling welcoming people. Yet at the same time we heard a history of hardship, of terrible times in the famine, of resilience and optimism and a path to the future. We learned that the permanence is not real – the land itself growing along the flower rich sand dunes, while side by side the raging Atlantic erodes the hard coast. It is a land and a people in flux, and the permanence that seems so clear is an illusion. We visited the beautiful village of Roundstone, saw turf cut along the roadside, stood in awe and perhaps shed a tear at the romantic story of Kylemore Abbey. We watched a man guide his sheepdog with almost a whisper, fed the lambs and sheared the sheep. We are happily tired, well fed, full of the laughter and fun of an expedition that’s not sure what tomorrow brings, but certain in the knowledge that we will embrace it fully in this country of rock and sea and smiles and mystery and wonder.