The Rose of Tralee

When you haven’t visited a beautiful place for too long, the result is that its breathtaking natural beauty and the creative culture can become an all too distant memory. 

And yet Ireland’s far south-west is easily accessible.  It’s available without having to endure the irritation of security at airports and ports.  To avoid the discomfort of security queues and the invasiveness of body-searching when going abroad, the relaxing alternative is to remain on terra firma.

My wife and I decided on a late summer tour from one end of the island to the other, from County Antrim to Co Kerry, from Belfast to Dingle.  The children, now parents, were very young when we last set foot in Killarney.  

Regardless of prognostications about impending gloom in the wake of Brexit, a lot of history - much of it good - has been recorded on both sides of our “seamless” border since then.

To make travel easier, not to mention our retirement objective to reduce carbon footprint, this journey offered the ideal opportunity to leave the car locked up at home.  We would travel by train, tram, and buses with a couple of short transfers by taxi.  Where we live, there is a wonderful benefit for resident 65+ year olds to use all forms of public transport at no personal cost.  Apart from buses, trains, and trams it even includes publicly-run ferries, a generous facility which operates equally in both jurisdictions (hopefully unhindered in the future by Brexit). 

So, apart from the bragging rights for good green credentials, driver fatigue and road rage disappear.  The chauffeured traveller can peacefully read a thriller novel while sipping green tea, and delight in making family and friends jealous with photos of beautiful scenery.

The novelty of our experimental trip was instanced at the end of the first stage of the journey when, on arrival in Dublin, we transferred from Connolly station direct to our hotel[i] on the new (to us) Luas line.  This sleek modern tram took us efficiently (Luas being the Irish Gaelic word for speed) across the city centre at our leisure and without fuss, thence a short walk to our overnight stop.   

The choice of hotel was determined because it is adjacent to Hueston station from where, next morning we would take the train to Tralee, the county town of Kerry, population about 35,000.

The best things we did on this three-night stay based in Tralee[ii] were a visit to Dingle, a tour round the beautiful Ring of Kerry, and a theatrical evening at Siamsa Tíre.

Lying thirty miles south-west of Tralee, Dingle provides – apart from an array of sights[iii] - an impressive range of restaurants, mostly specializing in fresh locally-caught seafood.  These are sufficient reason for a visit and probably explain the droves of discerning foreign visitors from Europe and north America.  These tourists are attracted by the same catch as the town’s most famous resident.

One of the best things to do in Dingle is to go on a boat trip, the most popular being the short journey to see Fungie the dolphin.  Having arrived in Dingle Bay in 1983, Fungie has become such a huge attraction that a bronze sculpture of him is on display at the harbour. Several operators provide tours “all day, every day, all year round.”  Apparently it can border on chaotic in high season when numerous boats jostle for position.

Nowhere else in the world, apparently, has a dolphin adopted a place long-term like this, meaning that this bottlenose’s continuous presence over 35 years is unique to Dingle.

Our journey along “Ireland’s most spectacular mountain road, the Ring of Kerry” started and finished in Killarney, long famous for its jaunting cars. The commercial bus tour took us, along with about 20 mostly American visitors anti-clockwise around the Iveragh peninsula which lies on the southern side of Dingle Bay. 

Killorglin village was the first place of interest, being famed for Puck Fair.[iv]  The clue is in the name – poc being the Irish Gaelic word for a male goat.  The high point of the annual event is the crowning of a wild goat as a King of the Fair.  He sits in an exalted position for the duration of the 3-day event keeping a watchful eye on proceedings.

The main attraction of the Ring, however, is the magnificent coastal scenery and rugged countryside which includes the lakes of Killarney.  The broadcast of a television documentary a few days after our return home helpfully explained that tourism in this part of the country owes its origins to the advent of the railways in 1853 when Killarney’s station opened, followed by the Great Southern Hotel in 1854.   

Celebrity endorsement followed with a subsequent and successful visit by Queen Victoria in 1861[v].  The monarch was responsible for naming one beauty spot Ladies View.

On an otherwise amusing and informative tour, the only aspect of the driver’s commentary which dismayed me was his remarks about the island of Skellig Michael which lies 8 miles off the coast.   

He repeated the story of the filming of part of the latest Star Wars film[vi] and the benefits to the local economy.  He omitted to mention its significance as a World Heritage site,[vii] being the location of one of Europe’s earliest Christian monastic sites, a place of enormous archaeological importance and also a special haven for wildlife.  

When I advised some of our visiting colleagues of these facts, they were more impressed with this than by the Hollywood angle.

After plenty of bracing fresh air, a cultural evening of “mirth and music of the land” is the perfect match.  Siamsa Tíre means exactly that, a pleasant diversion with musical entertainment.  It is the name of the National Folk Theatre of Ireland which is celebrating its fiftieth anniversary this year and lies next to the centre of Tralee. 

The company’s repertoire brings Irish folklore to life through music song and dance.  I was lucky enough to see its original show Fadó Fadó, Long Ago, a tale of rural life on a simple homestead over the four seasons.  The mesmeric quality of singing, both solo and choral, alongside the intricacies of traditional Irish dancing and backed up with skilled musicianship were an uplifting combination of perfect harmony.

Tralee is a good base from which to explore County Kerry.  Less touristy than resort towns like Killarney and Dingle, it is the venue for the enduringly popular Rose of Tralee pageant.   Incidentally, the county’s other main town, Listowel, has won the award as Ireland’s Tidiest Town 2018[viii].   

As the county town, Tralee has a bustling commercial town centre, a beautiful central park complete with an impressive rose walk and garden, and a pleasant riverside walk to the Blennerville Windmill.  Roses abound.

©Michael McSorley 2018

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[i] https://www.ashlinghotel.ie/ Aisling in Irish means vision or dream.

[ii] https://www.therosehotel.com/

[iii] https://www.authenticireland.com/14-things-to-do-in-dingle/

[iv] http://puckfair.ie/history

[v] An Irishman’s Diary Irish Times 30 April 2011

[vi] Irish Times 9 December 2017 https://www.irishtimes.com/life-and-style/travel/ireland/experience-the-force-a-guide-to-the-star-wars-magic-in-kerry-1.3317637

[vii] http://www.worldheritageireland.ie/skellig-michael/

[viii] Irish Times 24 September 2018 https://www.irishtimes.com/news/environment/tidy-towns-listowel-in-co-kerry-announced-as-2018-winner-1.3639448
Note:- Photos by the author, except for those of the sculpture & Skellig (sourced from google images), and Siamsa Tíre (from its Facebook page).

Westminster Bridge revisited

What better place to visit in flaming June than central London.  The heart of a metropolis that provokes thought and, above all, inspires.

With air temperatures in the low 20’s centigrade, this was the ideal opportunity both to explore the capital’s attractions, natural and cultural, on foot; and also to reside in close proximity to the Houses of Parliament. 

On this visit we (my wife and I along with a daughter and eldest grandson) experienced a heady mix of being in a place experiencing historic change as it argues passionately about its future role in the world.   

Our timing coincided with events such as the monarch’s official birthday and notable anniversaries.  These included the centenary of women’s suffrage, the first anniversary of the calamitous fire at Grenfell Tower and the seventieth anniversary of the MV Windrush’s arrival from the Caribbean.  

These events provided quite a backdrop to our purpose in visiting, namely to support and enjoy London’s prominent role as a vibrant cultural city. 

My daughter had bought tickets for a top West End show six months previously, a birthday present that had to be postponed for reasons to do with my inability to travel earlier in the year.  

We had the best seats in the house in the front row of the balcony to see the Garrick Theatre’s production of Young Frankenstein.
  

Directed by Mel Brooks, this is a musical version of his 1974 film of the same name which starred Gene Wilder.  I remember as a twenty-five year old seeing the film when it was released all those years ago; and, serendipitously, it was screened on terrestrial television in the UK in February this year.   
Guided by the sure-footed Mel Brooks again, this stage version is faithful to the film, equally funny but even more entertaining because it is a live “in your face” performance with great music, brilliant acting performances and impressive stage sets. 

The impact of witnessing such a turbo-charged slick production is pure elation.  A show like Young Frankenstein encourages normal imagination to run riot, to believe that anything is possible, that lateral thinking can make the world a better place.  I would say it was one of the best theatrical experiences of my life.

Taking advantage of the gorgeous weather, we spent a lot of time outdoors in St James’s Park[i] with its pelicans and walking along the Thames embankment.   

En route from our hotel,[ii] which was only about 100 yards from Westminster Abbey, we stopped at Parliament Square.  Our attention was caught by the sight of many women bedecked in the green white and violet tricolour of the suffrage movement.  We soon realised that they were paying homage to Millicent Fawcett.  Six weeks before our visit, she became the first woman to be honoured with a statue erected in Parliament Square.[iii]  Now she stands proudly next to Gandhi looking imperiously across the square to the Houses of Parliament.

After crossing Westminster Bridge and with no particular plan in mind, it was impossible to pass by a small but important exhibition.  Given the prominence of immigration as a determining issue in the outcome of the Brexit referendum two years ago, the appearance of an unassuming pop-up exhibition about the Windrush[iv] generation stopped us in our tracks.   

This temporary event consisted of photographs and panels setting out the story of the brave 492 West Indian people who responded to Britain’s invitation to help rebuild the nation after the war.  A couple of the ship’s survivors were present, happy to greet and tell their own poignant stories.

After enjoying an ice cream break on a summery afternoon and mingling with the happy Sunday crowds, we ventured indoors again to Tate Modern, a respite from the heat.   It is hosting a major exhibition of Picasso’s 1932 works.[v]  

Because I had already bought tickets for another art exhibition the next day, we decided to save money and take advantage of the Tate’s permanent collections.  We viewed a magnificent mix of other artworks by Picasso and an Antony Gormley sculpture.

In addition we saw modern art by great artists such as Salvador Dali, Dégas, Georges Braque, Andy Warhol, Louise Bourgeois, the Guerrilla Girls[vi], Bridget Riley and Cildo Meireles. 

Cildo Meireles's Babel 2001, a tower of real radios playing at once, about information overload and failed communication

The Tate room which impressed me most was the collection by Mark Rothko, its calming impact.  Perhaps the connection was intensified following the recent 3-part BBC documentary series on modern American art presented by Waldemar Januszczak[vii].  But what a privilege (and great value) it is to visit a major gallery and see important paintings without having to pay.

Our final treat was a visit to the National Gallery.  The attraction was the much heralded exhibition of almost 70 paintings by Monet, brought together from galleries and private collections across the world, including one from Dublin City Gallery.   

It was billed as a look at his career through the buildings he painted from Normandy, Paris, London and Venice.  

London’s official visitor guide[viii] enticed us:

 

“Monet spent his mornings painting London from a balcony at the Savoy.  In the afternoon he moved across the river to paint the Houses of Parliament from St Thomas’s Hospital.  Over a year, Monet painted 41 different versions of Waterloo Bridge, 35 of Charing Cross Bridge and 21 of the Houses of Parliament.  At one point he was working 65 paintings at the same time.”

Apart from the eight works on show of London landmarks (Waterloo Bridge, the Houses of Parliament and Charing Cross Bridge), the painting that resonated with me was his image of Dolceacqua Bridge where we stood on a holiday to Liguria[ix] five years ago.

The previous day when we sat down in the sun taking in the view up and across the Thames, I wondered (lonely as a cloud) what Cumbria’s lyric poet William Wordsworth would have thought about inner London 216 years after composing his romantic paean to the city Upon Westminster Bridge[x].  

Dazzled by a mix of music theatre, last night’s gourmet dinner at the exclusive Ivy restaurant[xi] in Covent Garden, the joy of fine art on two days and no little sunshine a creative thought occurred that simply would not go away. 

If musicians like Jacques Loussier can extemporize with Bach’s airs, if Andrzej Jagodzinski can do likewise with Chopin’s preludes and nocturnes, and with everybody from Rachmaninov to Andrew Lloyd Webber composing Variations of Paganini’s caprice, why not compose a contemporary version of Wordsworth’s ethereal 14-line sonnet.

Taking account of the events and places we visited on this occasion, I present my imagining keeping close to the original masterpiece in form and in words.  
Consequently and iambic pentameter notwithstanding, this might approximate to what the bardic wordsmith might have written today Upon Westminster Bridge.

Earth has not anything to show more fair

Dull would She #MeToo be of soul who could pass by

Red arrows so touching on Her Majesty’s birthday:

This City, now global financial services centre, doth wear

The beauty of Boris bikes in the morning rush hour;

Suffrage statue, edifices dwarfing St Paul’s dome, London Eye

Open unto fields disappeared, new towers scraping the sky

All bright and glittering in the smokeless post-Grenfell air.

Never again will sun more beautifully steep in its splendour

Tate Modern, National Gallery, and Windrush exhibits; ten thousand selfies

Ne’re saw I at a glance, never felt a Mark Rothko calm so deep!

Monet’s fogbound river glideth in plastic at his own sweet will:

Dear PM, courage calls!  The very Houses of Parliament seem asleep;

That mighty heart of Young Frankenstein’s Brexit monster is lying still!

To express the romantic spirit of this sonnet, an actor's dulcet tones would help.  The earthen melodiousness of Liam Neeson’s elocution reciting lyric poetry by Seamus Heaney marvelled this listener recently.  He would add extra gravitas to this offering.

©Michael McSorley 2018

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[i] https://www.royalparks.org.uk/parks/st-jamess-park

[ii] https://www.premierinn.com/gb/en/hotels/england/greater-london/london/hub-london-westminster-abbey.html

[iii] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-43868925

[iv] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-43782241

[v] http://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/exhibition/ey-exhibition-picasso-1932-love-fame-tragedy/exhibition-guide

[vi] http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/guerrilla-girls-6858

[vii] https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b0b49rq2/big-sky-big-dreams-big-art-made-in-the-usa-series-1-episode-2

[viii] www.Visitlondon.com  Monet and architecture (until July 29)

[ix] http://michaelmcsorleytravel.blogspot.com/2014/01/vacances-sans-frontieres.html

[x] Earth has not anything to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

A sight so touching in its majesty:

This City now doth, like a garment, wear

The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie

Open unto the fields, and to the sky;

All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Never did sun more beautifully steep

In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!

The river glideth at his own sweet will:

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;

And all that mighty heart is lying still!

[xi] https://www.the-ivy.co.uk/