May 9 - Skerries

Day 1 - Thursday, May 9th, 2002

We flew Continental Airlines from Denver to Newark and then Newark to Dublin. The plane was scheduled to land at 8:10 AM and at 8:00 AM we had no sense we were either over land or near the ground. Seconds late a voice announces that we will be landing in five minutes . It seemed hard to imagine but we started to drop through layers of thick, murky clouds. Like a knife through mashed potatoes, we dropped, scarcely able to see the tips of the wings. Then suddenly, there they were below us...the green fields of Ireland. Within a few minutes, we were on the ground.

We picked up our rental car at Autoeurop and went through the insurance hassle. There is a huge disconnect when you talk to different people at different times about the possibilities with auto insurance, the use of Mastercard etc. I thought I had it figured out well before I left, but I'm still not sure what happened. Oh well, we're on vacation. A silver Nissan Micra awaited us when we reached the parking lot. Not a sleek vehicle, but perfect for driving the tiny roads of Ireland. Things have changed a bit and we picked up the car in the same lot we dropped it off. It used to be different lots. It's about a 5 minute walk from the terminal down the hill. It's much harder work coming back up the hill on your return. At 9:50 AM, we pulled out of the lot and the adventure began.

We found our way out of the airport and through the gauntlet of introductory roundabouts (about 10 in the first couple of miles it seems). We were headed north towards Skerries. The quick reminder that the driver (and his screaming passenger) have to pay careful attention to cars on the opposite side veering wildly into his lane as they dodge the various parked cars in their own, brought Irish driving reality back in a hurry.

We made it to Skerries without much incident and then proceeded to get lost at least three times. We asked a gentleman if he could point us in the direction of Balbriggan Road, and he did just that. "It's over there." Unfortunately, he had no idea how to get there. Still quite lost we stopped and asked a woman for directions and her advice was accurate. Clearly, the women are the navigators in Ireland. Was St. Brendan a woman??...hmmmm.......

We made only one more wrong turn and found our way out to "The Reefs" on the edge of town. Violet Clinton met us and had our room ready by 11:00 AM. While we waited for the room, she brought us tea and scones. Ah, we're back in Ireland. Maybe it was just that it was my first cup, but I remember this as the best tea I had in Ireland. It none-the-less, took the express route through our exhausted bodies and we almost had to kick the door down on our way to the toilet in our room. Seems Guinness does the same thing. We collapsed in the bed, comfortable that we weren't missing anything due to the soggy weather.

We woke up 2½ hours later to bright, sunny skies. Hurriedly, we jumped in the car and headed towards Newgrange. When we arrived, we learned that the tours were all sold out so we checked out the visitor center and headed towards the town of Slane.

The area around Slane is a lush green with the Boyne River dissecting the valley. From the south, you cross a beautiful stone bridge over the Boyne followed immediately by the castle. Following that, the village is a bit more non-descript (by Irish standards anyway). We went through town, took a beautiful side road to nowhere and then found our way to the road to the Hill of Slane. The walk to the hill is short and the tour bus that was in the car park when we arrived was (mercifully) leaving. We were the only ones left at the sight. The serenity was awe-inspiring. We wandered through the ruins and took some pictures. The view from the top was wonderful, but with starvation making a rude appearance, we made our way back to the car and into Slane.

We found The Poets Rest Pub and walked in to the prototypical Irish Pub. Simple, with a few nooks and crannies to hide behind. Finally, I sat down for a sip of Irish brew. I broke with tradition and drank a Smithwicks, a fine Irish ale, brewed by Guinness and ordered the fish and chips. Oddly, the fish was not deep-fried. It was none-the-less, delicious. If you go through Slane, you have to stop here. It's a great little pub, full of charm and ambience and a wonderful place to sip that first beer. Now, back to "The Reefs" to collapse.

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