Saturday, June 20, 2009

Dad

Father's Day is tomorrow and this blog is dedicated Bryan L. Martin. Dad.

The garage door closes and the sound of heavy boots hitting the cold pavement floor echoes through the kitchen. A few minutes later, Dad comes in covered in dirt, grease and soot from a hard days' work and usually stripped of the soiled clothing. We'd listen for that sound and hope that our friends weren't over when Dad made his way upstairs to the shower in his whitey tighties. There were several memorable and unfortunate run-ins of this sort, but it was the way things were and we still have a laugh about those times.

Dad's work is really inextricable from Dad. He loves his work. Unless the truck breaks down and he is at a job site an hour away, or the check that will pay the bills still hasn't been paid on the promised pay date, or worst of all---the government interferes with rigid rules and layers of incompetent bureaucracy. But most of the time, the thrill of winning the bid on a big job, or finding several tons of copper at the site, or running errands with Frodo the ever faithful Golden Retreiver by his side makes Dad's day's work enjoyable. And his experience, expertise and creativity is of a kind largely unknown and definitely under-appreciated. A year ago I met a guy who frequently runs into Dad at his work and he said to me, "You're Bryan Martin's daughter? I have a lot of respect for your Dad" and continued to tell me how you could just tell he loved what he was doing and that he knew they could count on him for honest and dependable business. I was so proud of him. No matter what job I have had, like it or not, I feel deeply that to do the job well and to be dependable is a matter of personal pride and joy. This is not something I came up with, it is something I watched and learned.

My parent's promised us we would go to Disney World when Jenae turned 5. Her 22 birthday was last week and we have yet to set foot as a family into Magic Kingdom. Nobody much cared though because family vacation was a priority for Dad. Tent camping and canoeing down creeks in the mountains of PA, running around East Coast beaches with my sisters, and riding in the back of the pickup truck to these destinations are some of my fondest memories. The fun was in throwing ourselves into nature and fighting with each other (and sometimes cooperating) but spending the time with each other nonetheless. We were after adventures and fun didn't depend on how much money we could spend or if we stayed in a nice hotel. I grew up learning that quality time spent with others was the bedrock of good fun and good relationships. There is also no substitute for time and encounter with others in nature.

Dad and I argue with each other about politics, religion, and social issues. In some ways, we just like the fight but conviction is deeply rooted in both of us. My sisters and Mom shake their heads and say how we are so much alike, which is exactly NOT what I want to hear when I feel he is being so stubborn and unrelenting! They are right though. We are very similar and I think it is also a great strength and weakness on both our parts. At the end of the day though, Dad cares about others and loves his family and takes care of his community--all of the things that make politics, religion and social issues worth anything in the first place. I hope that in my life I serve as selflessly and quietly as he has.

Dad has never really been a phone person. Unfortunately, when I moved away from home and went to university, traveled, and pursued various jobs, 'catching up' on the day to day things is somewhat difficult for this reason. Dad has also never really been much of a computer person, though in recent years he's come to terms with the benefits of fast and modern communication. Even still, I was really surprised to hear that Dad kept up with my blog regularly this year. He reads every single entry. Knowing this fact is such an encouragement to me and just one more way that I feel supported by him.

Dad, I know that you will be reading this at some point and I want you to know that the most important things I have ever learned in life I have learned from you. Happy Father's Day.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Camping the West Coast of Ireland

The West Coast of Ireland is wild, rugged, desolate, and desperately beautiful. Reading this sort of description from an Ireland guidebook and seeing it in real life is the difference between reading a wine review out of a wine magazine and sipping a local glass of Cabernet on a summer's day at Moondancer winery while listening to a jazz band and taking in the views of the grape vines and Susquehanna river. (Consequently, the latter is exactly what I intend to do upon returning to Lancaster, PA to visit my family.)

The top-five most typical sights according to me are the following:




1) Seaside Cliffs. Angling sharply towards the Atlantic and serving as home to hundreds or even thousands of sea birds.

2) Sheep. Everywhere. Grazing in green pastures or bog wastelands or at the precipices of above-mentioned cliffs, or walking by the roadside.

3) Mountains. Co. Sligo, Co. Mayo, Co. Clare, Co. Kerry, Co. Cork. Typically un-wooded and

4) Castles. I'm not sure it is really possible to explain to an audience largely composed of people who live in an un-castled land the sheer number of castles that dot the Irish hillsides. Trust me it is a substantial number. I believe towards the end of the two weeks a common phrase started out, "If I see one more castle..." Ancient megalithic tombs, often refered to as 'dolmans' come a close second to this category.

5) Irish Towns. And on rare occasions an Irish city. Typically a one-street job with the florist, butcher, grocer, Post Office, chippies, and always always a pub(s). I recall going through one "town" which was really about 5 houses and a post office and....a pub.

Kevin and I covered over 1,000 miles of Irish landscape. The trip started out in Sligo where we visited the Sligo Rotary club first and ended up in Waterford for a quick dinner before a 6 hour journey home. In between we hit Mayo, Clare, Kerry, Connemara, Galway, Limerick, the Dingle Peninsula, and Cork. I am relishing both the little moments of quiet and the miles and miles of breathtaking scenery as well as the big moments of inspiration, excitement or wonder. The following are a few of my highlights.

The Skellig Islands
On the Ring of Kerry we camped for three nights in a town called Caherciveen. On one of the days we took a 15 km boat ride out to the Skellig Islands. The North Atlantic is unforgiving and while I managed to hold it together, others were not quite so lucky. What we saw, however, made all sea-induced nausea more than worth it. As we approached the first Skellig Island, I thought, Is it possible that this island-mountain is snow-covered in this weather? And it is not, in fact, snow-covered but merely inhabited by hundreds of thousands of white sea birds. Gulls, of course, but other large and beautiful winged creatures who I do not know the name of. I've never seen anything like it before in my life. The second island, the Great Skellig, was our stopping point for a few hours. Those few hours were the highlight of my trip. Kevin and I saw wild puffins, seals, and other sea birds flying about or swimming. I have to make a note about the puffins because they really and truly delighted me. In addition to being unafraid of humans and looking like mini clown-birds, their antics actually make it impossible for anyone to dislike them, I think. Most birds swoop in somewhat majestically and gracefully to their cliff edges and glide into their landing. Not so my puffin friends. They zip and dive and then hover a moment above their landing spot, flapping their wings frantically before just stopping to plop down on their webbed feet wherever they land. I even saw one puffin land on top of another puffins head!

The wildlife was only part of the Great Skellig's charm. After a 30 minute hike up to the peak, we encountered an ancient monastary overlooking the smaller Skellig and then just the sea beyond. The monastary is composed of well-preserved stone fortresses in the 'bee-hive' formation. Stone crosses marked burial sites.

Our Captain had a fantastic sense of humor and was kind enough to make the rounds to sea-sick passengers, checking in on them like a nurse while keeping everyone's spirits high while giant waves swelled around us. He has been on the sea his entire life, mostly as a fisherman for 27 years now as a boat captain to the Skelligs.

Achill Islands
We camped right by the ocean and fell asleep to the sound of the waves and woke up to the bleating of sheep being herded to pasture. We then drove out the Atlantic drive to a pristine beach with aqua-marine water, like one would expect to find in the Mediterranean or Caribbean. We hiked a cliff and then returned to jump quickly into the ocean before cooking lunch outdoors for a beach picnic.

Market in Ballyvaghan
Since we didn't really plan much of the trip and used a map and our whim to guide our path. This worked out well for us most of the time. One of the best times was when we stumbled upon a local outdoor market in a town in County Clare called Ballyvaughan on a sunny day. We munched on locally produced foods while watching 3 young fellows (10-11 years of age) play traditional Irish music and dance the famous clogging-step of the Irish jig. These three boys from the Aran Islands had just won a national championship and talent competition, a local man informed us. Lucky us!

The Accent

Throughout the trip, Kevin and I were noticed for our accents. In the Achill Islands, I asked a woman at a convenience shop if they sold ice to which she replied, "What is that?" I tried saying the one-syllable word several times with different emphasis (which is quite difficult with one- syllable words) in order to avoid having to say "very cold and hard water" and eventually she said, "Oh ice!" and it sounded exactly the same to me. Linguistic nuances are funny things. More often, however, Kevin was noticed for his 'northern' accent. Most of the time people would say "Oh a Derry man!" but my favorite incident occurred while visiting a friend of mine in Kerry and having a cup of tea with her parents, who are farmers in Caherciveen. Her father says "You know I am finding it very difficult to understand your accent" to which Kevin replies "Well I am having trouble understanding you as well" to which I say "Well I can't understand either of you!" and we all have a laugh.

Camping in General
I grew up camping and have very fond memories woods and campfires and toasting marshmallows. Camping in Ireland is a bit different--no woods, no campfires, and no 'mallows. We mostly camped on grass in open spaces but often near a beach or overlooking a fantastic scene. Rosses' Point in Sligo comes to mind with a sweeping vista of the entire bay area, the Atlantic ocean, two lighthouses, and Benbulben. We saw some fantastic sunsets over the sea and woke up most days to sunshine and clean air. It rained most nights, but our little tent remained faithfully unleaky. One night we had some trouble with the pesty midge flies, but in general, camping in Ireland is bugless! Look Mom, no bugspray:)

Wildflowers and Wildlife
If you ever fancy embarking on your own trip on the West Coast of Ireland, I recommend the month of May. Besides unusually good weather, the wildflowers are out in full color and absolutely stunning. They creep out from between rock crevices, particularly of note in the Burren in County Clare. They grow alongside the road and by the rivers, lakes and hillsides. Manicured gardens were in full bloom as well and the Kilkenny National Park particularly stood out. Also, besides puffins, seals and seabirds, we also saw a red deer, loads of lambs, horses and foals, and all varieties of small birds. We even enjoyed the two big orange cats that curled up on our laps by the indoor peat fire in the common area at one of the campsites.

As the old addage states, pictures are worth a thousand words. In this case, both pictures and words fail the West Coast of Ireland. I'm afraid over time even my memories will fail me. Nonetheless, here is a link to a photo album if you are interested in catching a glimpse of the beauty of this country. Any fans of the John Wayne film The Quiet Man may appreciate some of the familiar photos taken in Cong, where the movie was filmed. It must be noted I am not particularly a fan of this movie. Enjoy:)

http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/samanthamartin08/