After driving in Scotland for a few days, surely I will not think Irish roads are that bad – even though my distinct memory last time was the roads being super narrow and also some American lady in the Dingle Peninsula asking me if I had removed the mirrors from my rental car yet by sideswiping them on hedges (no???).
They are very particular about having insurance on the car at the rental car office, and I had to go dig through my credit card app to prove that I had coverage through the card. Also, declining their insurance results in a €5k hold on the card for your duration of the rental. Good thing it’s the credit card company’s fake money and not my own.
We take very diligent pictures of this poor car because some idiots have definitely sent this thing into some hedges. This is probably the most beaten up of a car I’ve ever gotten, possibly minus the nissan sunny in New Zealand.
We sally forth. The roads are HELLA narrow and I am really grateful for the few days in Scotland last week because I at least can use all my mirrors and I’m very used to keeping left. The lane keeping that was helpful in Scotland is Very Annoying here because it keeps triggering off of weird reflections in the road, and I don’t think it understands that the road is barely 2 cars wide in places. One time, the car lustily lunged towards the center and at another car. I turn it off. This feature is dead to me or it will be the death of me.
At least Red Car does not beep at me for speeding, but most roads are so narrow you can barely meet the speed limit anyway! Susan helpfully beeps when I get too far left, which mostly happens when I’m trying to skirt an oncoming truck. Nobody goes into a hedge and all is well.
Our air bnb is a charming cottage at the end of a lane. They have horses! I think they’re dressage horses but I will eventually ask the owner. We got to pet one and this is collectively the best day ever for us.
A crazy wind moved in on Sunday. We don’t have any live Irish TV service and eventually figure out that this is a named storm – storm Ashley – and it’s been very windy and rainy on the coasts. Here in County Wicklow and west of the mountains, it’s not so bad, but the wind is really nuts. The air bnb owner tells us to watch out on the roads for downed limbs as there are sure to be some. Please note, dear reader, that this is ✨ foreshadowing ✨
This is our most action-y Irish day: we have three timed stops. Our first is about 45 minutes away, and we build in extra time because I drive like a grandma and I don’t want to put Red Car into a hedge or into another car. Good thing we did, because about ten minutes into our journey, we encounter cows in the road being herded by a few farmers and a sheepdog!
We arrive at the gates of Duckett’s Grove accidentally, which seems to just be a very impressive gatehouse. We had to backtrack to the house itself to see the ruins of an empty, tall manor. It burned down in the 30s and nobody knows exactly how the fire started. You can go walk around it and learn about the Duckett family – mainly that their wealth was built off of strategic marriages. Now, it’s mainly occupied by crows, and locals take their dogs here to let them run off-leash in its fenced-in grounds. It’s free to wander, there’s a cafe inside, and a very cold toilet. I miss my bidet and heated seat especially on this crazy windy day.
The windows and doors are barred and locked and there are tons of cameras. I assume it’s for safety and preservation, and it makes me wonder what’s in the cellars below the house, which you can see if you peek inside the windows.
You can also wander the restored gardens in the back. Much of the manor was self-sufficient and grew its own food, since it had a pretty big staff at any given time, and was later occupied by the IRA.
Next up: Irish working sheepdogs! Yes! More doggies! I will never turn down the chance to watch the little dogs herd the sheep, and I wonder what kind of doggos these are.
And now, the foreshadowing comes back: we are nearly to the farm, and we come upon a tree that is just in the road, blown the entire way across. Fortunately, it has chosen to conveniently fall where there’s a driveway, so we can drive around. If we’d had to have backtracked, we would have been late for the demo.
We are joined by a busload of tourist friends, and the kind shepherd talks about how the industry has changed: wool is very cheap, and now most shepherds sell their lambs for meat. There are also basically no young folks interested in farming any more, so Ireland will have to face some kind of reckoning soon, for both livestock farming and produce. The dogs (Sheepdogs!) are whistle-trained and super fast, and of course there is a puppy we can pet. This demo is a bit shorter than the Scottish one but still wonderful, as the two dogs race around and herd the sheep around obstacles in the field. He mentions one dog is worth 4-6 helping hands, when properly trained. The dogs love the work, they love us, and we love them back. It is good.
Our final stop of the day is at Russborough house, a Palladian-style (think ancient greece but about the 1700s) home that has a massive art collection inside. You take a guided tour around the home, marveling at the plastered ceilings, collections of art objects, and stories of thefts. Some of the paintings had been stolen many times, with the owners at home too.
The wind has reached nutter butter levels and is absolutely ripping around the house. We find it really hard to walk to the bird demo in a different wing of the house (pun intended) – we are almost walking in place! Are the birds even flying today?
The answer was – well no – not really! But because of the nasty weather, we are the only two on the tour and we catch the last one of the day before they close down early. Our guide really loves his birds and he even goes hunting with his own hawk and ferret – and he meets up with friends who do the same. We learn about how birds of prey slay their foes (usually, with the impact of their fall), that some eagles can just break your wrist with their crushing claws, and we even get to hold a barn owl! Usually they do flying demonstrations, but the littlest owls would be very unhappy about it today. The wind is rude.
It is about now I realize that I have forgotten about eating, so we got a snack and tea and then go up the road to enjoy proper dinner at a fancy golf resort, Tulfarris hotel. I eat a pile of pumpkin ravioli. Life is good.
