Day 14

Day 14: Today Mom and Dad and Laura left for their B&B in Shannon: the Bunratty Inn. Lisa kept saying how weird it feels for one half of our caravan to be getting on the road and heading in the opposite direction. After weeks of elephant-chain driving, it felt like we split the herd!

It should be interesting to see how Cindy deals with the proprietor of the B&B; when we sent Eric up earlier in the week, she had promised that the bus brought passengers all the way to her stoop, and in fact, that was not the case. The bus stops at the Bunratty castle and the driver said they don’t go as far as the B&B anymore, so Eric plopped off the bus in the middle of nowhere with all his luggage and walked to the damn place. Mom and Lola were absolutely livid, and Lisa was so sick with worry and frustration that she couldn’t speak. It doesn’t feel good to know a member of your “family” is out on a wet Irish road dragging a suitcase behind him on his way to god-knows-where without a map and in an unfamiliar town. We thought the only thing he had going for him was the fact that everyone spoke English and that he’d have a really great story for his kids one day: one time I was dropped in the middle of a glen without a map with all my worldly possessions and had to WALK FIVE MILES THROUGH THE WOODS WITH NO SHOES ON IN THE RAIN!

What an adventure. Let’s hope that woman has a new rear-end in her closet because she’ll need it when Mom’s done with her.

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So anyway, they got in their car and headed in one direction, and we got in ours and headed in another. Weird. I kept looking in the rearview mirror for their car until my neck hurt and Tom said “They’re not there, Sea”.

It was rather like this feeling we all had during the trip (from day one, really) that someone was missing. Every time we’d round up the group someone would say “Who’s missing?” with the sense of genuine loss, not just in passing comment. Sometimes we would decide it was my late grandparents following us around as we explored, and often someone would sing out: “Oh, it’s just weird because Lenay’s not here!”. We kept looking for her everywhere. Even at Barleycove Beach, when a woman asked if she could take a picture of Mom, Laura, and Lisa, Lisa had to hold out her arm and pretend Lenay was there, just like Lenay did 12 year ago in Milan when Lisa was missing from a group picture.
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We were making some hairy turns into the city center of Cork when Colin and Kari called to say their train was in and they were waiting for us at the station. Luckily we were two turns from them and we rounded into the parking lot just as they were walking out to the waiting area. To say Clare is glad to see Kari is like saying it always rains in Ireland. Of course. Kari plays all the games, Kari colors for hours on end, Kari will look at the Littlest Pet Shop brochure until she has memorized all the characters, Kari will sit very still while Clare covers her in princess stickers (face, forehead, forearms, etc.), and Kari will sit even stiller as Clare peels off everyone of said stickers and returns them to the book. Colin is a great diversion and a good snuggle, but if the sun comes up in the morning, it is over the halo of Kari.

We drove to Blarney after picking them up, and had a bite to eat at the Woollen Mills cafeteria. From there we walked them over to the entrance of the Castle grounds and directed them inside. We thought we’d kill a few hours shopping and wandering around, and just as we waved them off we saw a sign that said:

Ice Cream
Smoothies
Sandwiches
Internet
Coffee Tea
Snacks
Umbrellas

And what a glorious sandwich that word Internet made! Tom ran to get the laptop out of the trunk and we sat down to upload those last few blog entries and pictures from days 1-8, did some banking while drinking lattes, and enjoyed the tiny little shack of a café. They had a sweet outdoor garden. While we watched through the glass doors, Clare busied herself with entertaining a small baby named Imogen by showing her her hair clip, tossing rocks in the air, and making “conversation”. After Imogen and her mom Clare left, Clare found a bright yellow, 3 ft tall slide and busied herself for the next 20 minutes sitting at the top while her feet touched the ground, and “sliding” all of three inches. Then she’d climb up and do it again. It’s wonderful to have a child that’s so easily entertained!

We went over to the Woollen Mills to finish up our last minute shopping and met up with Colin and Kari. The drive home to Derryfunchion was rainy and dramatic, with huge grey clouds scudding through the sky. Luckily it was Sunday and everyone decided to stay home because the wet roads were fairly empty.

After settling in to the cottage, Clare and Lisa snuck up the road to see where the HUGE black cows went that had been standing at the gate at the head of the driveway when we pulled up. The field looked curiously empty now, and we couldn’t see much because of the high hedgerows that box in each field. Well, about halfway up the wet lane we got the scare of our lives. We had been walking very far to the left, peering occasionally over the hedge to see what we could see. On our last nonchalant peek over the top, we came face to nose with the largest cow we’d ever seen! And the MOOOOOOOO it let out at being startled by us was so booming that it rattled our chestcages. Turns out they had retreated upfield when they saw our car pull in, and now here they ALL were, and they were none too happy at being startled! I yelled out “Holy Shit!” (which Clare promptly repeated), and jumped to the other side of the road all in one leap, a task made difficult by the fact that I was carrying my 40 pound child on a slippery, steep incline.

All the cows started mooing then, and we were quaking in our boots because we weren’t so sure they wouldn’t startle and charge the fence. After quickly assessing that there was a stone fence under the tangle of brambleberry bushes and ferns, we got close again and Clare got to see up close and personal what the inside of a cow’s mouth looks like when she chews her cud and moooooos. It was a field full of mothers and babies, and they stood and stared at us as we stared at them.

We repeated the same scenario when Colin and Kari and I went up the lane again. We decided we were getting hungry and drove into Bantry to see what was open. The supermarket was already closed, but a tapas place called Il Gitano we saw a few days ago had candles burning in the window, so we tried that. Again, there was an interminable wait but the food that came out this time (as opposed to the Good Things Café’s uneven reception) was uniformly delicious. Salmon with mussels, fennel, and sesame carrots was delicious. Thai style mussels in coconut cream were excellent. Salted prawns and baked chorizo were very tasty, and a plate of chevre and red pepper pasta was creamy and divine. Split amongst all of us, the food was a tasty diversion from pub food.

We didn’t get home until nearly 10pm, and bed and sleep beckoned.

téigh in éag (means: to end!)