A pretty typical small Irish village, but home of Donegal tweed and the Silkie whiskey distillery as well as known for its traditional (trad) music sessions, though I only heard a country music singer. He gave Johnny Cash a run for his money with his voice for all that. The homes just outside town are sweet, charming, well-manicured. Something that sets Ireland apart is the respect people show the land. There is no litter and it’s a beautiful thing. America is a waste basket. In all of my time, I only saw one person throw trash on the street. He was drunk in Belfast and not a native. I realized on a bus ride from Westport to Murrick the particular problem immigration can cause a homogenous culture. For example, queing at the bus stop is an exercise in fairness and courtesy. One waits outside the bus until the driver completes the transaction of the passenger boarding and then greets the driver and explains where she’s going. Well, the sidewalk in Westport is narrow where the bus stops and people were queued from both sides, but still queued. When the bus arrived, a woman pushed ahead with what she apparently felt appeared a god-given right to join someone she recognized, a clear ploy. A man ushered me in front of him and when we were on the bus said quietly that they have some issues with “plurality” there. And I get it. The woman showed no respect for the culture welcoming her, but imposed her own customs with a self-righteousness. I’ve seen this a couple times: foreign people barking into their phones on an otherwise silent bus where the locals have been enjoying the tranquility of the scenery. We get irritated in America, but we don’t have expectations of civility. It must be harder when you do.
The town is filled with tweed shops.
They are pretty proud of their music traditions here too.
In the town center: the statue of a well-respected fiddler from a family of violin-playing Travellers.
A monkey puzzle tree.
I truly enjoyed the long hike out to Assaranca Waterfall. The town sits along the Owen’s River near Longhorns Bay and I walked out to the mouth of the ocean. Once again, I found myself on the International Appalachian Trail.
Gold sheep!
For the life of me, I could not figure out what was going on when I saw a tractor driving over what looked like the ocean at low tide. Turns out, according to this fellow who works there, it was oyster farming. The oysters are all shipped to France he told me. The walk was staggeringly beautiful. It was on this walk that I truly grasped the influence of the terroir, the language of cheesemakers and vintners. I’ve been eating blackberries most days from the different areas I’ve been visiting. The ones in the Ardara area were some of the sweetest I’ve come across. The air was fragrant from the flowers and the sea air, and the flats that looked like cream swirled on coffee when the tide pulled out. It had a distinctive taste.
I was singing “Baa baas black sheep” to him when I took this picture.
The days began sunny and fair, but the sky turned black and it became cold and windy on the turn of a dime as they say, and I was caught in a heavy down pour pretty far away from my bed and breakfast. I was drenched and shivering when a German family on holiday after picking up their daughter from working a year as an au pair in Dublin offered me a ride. They were absolutely wonderful, traveling the Wild Atlantic Way clockwise whereas I was traveling counterclockwise. I am so very grateful for the people I have met on my travels.
This family too, who I met at a pub that night after a delightful dinner at Nancy’s of seafood chowder, a local concoction of olives and garlic, and Silkie whiskey called Ardara which tasted like the air in Ardara, was very entertaining. They were excellent conversation. Look at them. Are they anything less than pure love?
It is so affirming to meet people raising their children to be aware of the world, conscientious, optimistic and caring. It gives me hope that maybe we can pull through these dark political times and get our planet on the course it should be on if humanity is to survive.
