Author: rakeeter

Gardens, etc.

Rain was threatened today but never came where we were.  It was chilly and overcast but not uncomfortable.  We visited Russborough House first.  I don’t remember the exact history but somewhere along the way someone made a lot of money in diamonds.  Now they have tours of the house to help pay the bills.  Not the same people of course.  Around the turn of the 20th century the residents were living quite well.  Let’s just say it’s good to be rich.

After leaving Russborough we wound through hilly County Wicklow until we got to the village where we were to take the garden tour.  First we had lunch.  We’ve gotten lunch on all these tours and the food in each case has been delicious and plentiful.  We have to work at digesting it so we can be ready for dinner.  We got to see some monuments to the victims of “The Famine” driving out of Dublin but we’re in no way suffering a famine ourselves.  The Mount Usher garden we toured was developed by a man named Robinson, I believe, and his sons.  He pioneered an approach to gardening that eschewed the formal English garden in favor of trees from all over the world planted in natural settings.  The cool and damp climate of Ireland makes it easy to grow the trees and our guide pointed out several “champion” trees, that is trees recognized as the best specimens in the world.  As an old tree-lover from the dusty plains, I was filled with envy at the variety and size of trees and the ease with which it appeared they grew them.

Yesterday we toured another garden, this one smaller, the creation of a single man and his wife.  It was a very nice personal garden, more on the formal style.  Later we visited another fallen glory.  This manor house was still occupied by descendants of the family that built it.  They’ve turned it into a hotel.  Grandpa does most of the gardening and was out on his John Deere mower mowing the croquet grounds when we were there.  Joyce and I particularly liked Ballyvalane, which is what the manor is called.  The proprietor mentioned trout and salmon fishing in the rivers around and Joyce and I think we might like to come back and spend a week sometime.

Day before yesterday we were at sea as we sailed from Spain to Ireland.  The Bay of Biscay was not kind to us.  I was OK at breakfast but we skipped lunch and I just ate part of a banana as I headed out to listen to a former ambassador to god knows where talk about the way the world is.  I didn’t get far before realizing I had a problem and barely had time to get back to our cabin and grab a barf bag before that banana came galloping back the way it came.  We slept most of the afternoon and gingerly tried our luck at dinner.  By morning we were pulling into the calms waters around Ireland and were grateful for it.

Misc

Our guide lead us down steep stone steps to see the remains of Saint James.  Like a carnival sideshow promising a three-headed chicken, the attraction didn’t live up to the hype.  Instead of bones and gore, all we saw was a large silver box about the size of a small trunk.  If Saint James was in it, he must have been folded in half.  The rest of the cathedral was impressive, I guess.  There was a gypsy sitting on a step on either side of the entrance and they had their pathetic beggar’s pose down.  They didn’t move or make a sound.  They just held their little cups with a few shekels in the bottom.  They were pretty young, a male and a female.  Later when we were assembled out in the square in front of the cathedral I had an opportunity to observe them from a distance when there were no tourists going in or out.  I saw the girl say something to the boy and give him a quick smile as she reached under her rags for her bottled water.  They probably make a pretty good living but I wonder how they managed to get their location.  The competition must be fierce.  Maybe they had to work up to it.

Spain is usually thought of in terms of its Mediterainian coast but it has a considerable Atlantic coast as well.  I was impressed with the green country and mild temperature of northern Spain, the region referred to as Galicia.  It was rural, lots of farms, and not densely settled like the part of Portugal we saw.  There are demonstrations in Madrid over the state of the economy but all was calm where we were, at least on the surface.  I was accosted several times by girls wanting me to sign what looked like a petition.  I tried to read what it was they wanted me to sign but being in Spanish I couldn’t make it out very well.  The girls were sincere but I had to disappoint them and decline to sign.

The cruise director said we can eat 17 times a day, if we want.  We can board as guests and leave as cargo.  The food is excellent and plentiful.  There is also a great deal of liquor available.  They even have daily AA meetings, I’m told.  I try to pace myself.

A couple more of Lisbon

There’s a winery in the Douro Valley of Portugal named the Quinta da Pacheca Winery.  A tour bus loaded its elderly cargo after this floating assisted living center docked early this morning and we drove about an hour and a half to get there.  The scenery is nice.  It’s hilly and nearly every backyard is a garden and/or vineyard.  Our guide said most of the vineyards produce what they refer to as green wine, that is young wine.  If she said why they don’t age it a little I missed it.  The Douro Valley is famous for its port wine and the winery we visited produces about 200,000 liters a year, I think the proprietor said.  His grandfather bought the winery and this guy had quite a few miles on him so I guess it’s been in the family a while.  We got to sample their white and red wine as well as their port over lunch.  So far, the lunch was the tastiest meal I’ve had.  Supposedly it was typical Portuguese fair but our guide also went to some length to tell us that the Portuguese eat a lot of cod.  Cod for Sunday dinners, cod for Christmas, cod, cod, cod.  We had the cod and weren’t impressed.  This lunch of cheeses, tortillas, some kind of fried bread and some fresh salad was much better.

They threw an old couple off the ship before we got underway yesterday evening.  They hold an emergency training session before embarking and all passengers are required to participate.  If you don’t show up, they  throw you off the ship.  That’s what apparently happened to this man and woman.  After the alarm for the practice drill was sounded, we assembled in one of the large restaurant areas where roll was called.  There were several people that had to be rounded up but I guess these folks had too many black marks and they and their luggage were escorted off the ship.

Tonight is a formal night.  That means I have to wear a suit to dinner.  Last night I wore a sport coat.  I guess the food and company is good enough to make it all worthwhile.

It took a little to get used to the roll of the ship once we sailed.  Joyce had a little spell of sea sickness when we got back to our cabin after dinner but I think she got over it pretty soon.  I could have slept later this morning but we  had an 8 o’clock pickup for today’s excursion.  I think we’ll have another one tomorrow morning.

Lisbon

Joyce is sawing logs.  She slept well last night but had not for several nights prior and was pretty tuckered out when we finally crashed after dinner last night.  I started out watching Portuguese TV but passed out.  The flights were all uneventful but we did spend some time on the tarmac in Madrid because the Portuguese air traffic controllers are on strike.

After napping a few hours at the hotel, we set off on foot for the tour bus depot where we caught an open air vehicle that whisked us around parts of Lisbon.  It was interesting.  Sort of.  Fatigue makes me less appreciative of most things and graffiti-coated cities look like, well, graffiti-coated cities.  We visited St George’s castle, which was more of a fort.  The accompanying literature said the king didn’t stay in the castle unless he was hiding from invaders.  It had a good view of the surrounding area, as any well-thought out fort would.  One had to step carefully to keep from tripping over the cobblestones.

On the way back to the hotel we stopped at a sidewalk cafe, one of many, for dinner.  Joyce, Betsy and I had the cod.  We don’t know about Betsy but Joyce and I had entre remorse when we saw the nice steak Bryant ordered.  The cod tasted OK but was a bit rubbery.

We’re going to transfer to the ship in a couple of hours.  I’m looking forward to staying put for a few days.  That is, not having to tote my bags and dig through them for my clothes.  I packed the Samsonite suitcase Dad gave me when I was a teenager (was he trying to give me a hint?) since I had to pack a suit and a sport coat so as to be properly dressed for dinner on our yacht.  It makes it obvious why they started putting rollers on suitcases.