Ireland 2007-2008 Part I: Dun Luiche
It’s difficult for me to sum up my travel experiences in retrospect. For one thing, I’m not one to keep a travel log or diary while on a trip; hell, I don’t often have the time to actually send out postcards while on these trips. Also, it’s difficult just to put into words the actual experiences that you run into while doing an 11 day journey through Ireland. A full narrative will never do justice to actually being there. With that being said, I’ll attempt to highlight my recent trip from December 26, 2007 to January 6, 2008. Or something like that.
Day 1 (12/27/2007): The easier part to narrate
Amy, Heather, and I landed in Dublin on the morning of December 27th to find the sky still dark, the weather damp, chilly, and rainy. But hey, no snow, so how could we complain? Through Heath’s familiarity with the International Code of Fiddlers, we met Nathan, a mighty fiddler from the Twin Cities, at the bus stop, and quickly found out that Nathan plays with a friend of ours, Brian Miller. Small world! After waiting a good hour or so for the bus to Dun Luiche, a fellow traveler from Gweedore named Mairead phoned the bus company only to find out that (because of the St. Stephens Day holiday), the bus wouldn’t be coming for another 2 hours. Sigh. After waiting things out in the airport cafe, we caught the bus and were on our way to Donegal.
Nathan managed to convince the bus driver to drop us off at Dun Luiche Cross. Now, the crossroads area at night is an interesting experience. The complete darkness of the countryside, compounded with area drivers flooring the pedal on the open country road along with two very sharp curves makes for a Brown Trousers Award winning crossroads. The driver suggested we stand as close to the crossroads sign as possible; I took that suggestion, sacrificed my travel pillow to whatever gods traverse the mountains of Dun Luiche, and twenty minutes or so later, one of the owners of our hostel arrived to pick the five of us up. Luckily we were all graduates of Clown College and managed to squeeze into the car and arrive safely at Errigal Hostel.
The rest of the night was spent meeting a bunch of people that formed and became a tight group of friends during our stay at the hostel for the Frankie Kennedy Winter School. This included Nate (a snazzy accordion player living in France by way of New Hampshire), Sophia (who took dance classes at FKWS and is from Germany), and Sarah (from St. Louis, and a grand flute player).
Days 2-5 (12/28 to 12/31/2007): the blur
The thing with this kind of trip is that days just seem to blur together. I had a blast these days and wish I could repeat them (even with the stupid cold that I caught). The highlights reel:
Classes with Harry Bradley: I got enough tunes and technique ideas to keep me busy on flute for many moons to come. Harry is a great teacher and has a great sense of humor. He even bought me a cup of coffee–what a guy! He passed on some significant life lessons as well (”don’t eat the kabobs from the hotel at the top of the hill”).
Night in the Snug: Even though the posse didn’t go out one night (I think it was Friday?), we still managed to have a blast hanging out in the Snug at the hostel. Good tunes, good times. We didn’t even light the place on fire, although a couple of us had to fan some smoke out with our jackets.
Je le peche: Best phrase ever–thanks Nate!
Day in Bunbeg: Walking around the beach, taking pictures of shipwrecks, playing football with a dog (who got mad at me when I picked up the ball).
Night at Teach Huidi Beag: Wonderful sessions. Big group one with some kids in the main pub–the accordion player and little whistler were adorable! Had a nice hot whiskey to soothe the throat. Great session on the other side with Ames, Heath, Sarah, and a bunch of others.
Noel Hill and Tony Linane: Two of my favorites in concert at Ionad Cois Locha. I could listen to Mr. Hill play slow airs on the concertina all night, absolutely brilliant. Unfortunately I missed seeing him later on at the hotel all decked out in his Playa attire. We know how he rolls.
Late nights in the kitchen: Making food with the homies. Hanging, chillin, being goofy. Can’t top it.
Well, we all know what they say about good things. Our time was up for our stay at Dun Luiche on the 31st, as Paul and Rob had made their way over to Donegal the day before to pick us up and zip us away to Portstewart for some recording. After saying “slan go foill” to our new friends in Donegal, we hopped in the car and headed for the North.