Return to Dundalk!

 

Still in Mayo, I spent Friday night watching ‘A Fistful of Dynamite’ – Rod Steiger hamming it up as a Mexican ne’er do well, although showing his Stanislavsky? (can’t think of the guy) acting in quieter scenes. James Coburn came over as rather good, despite Sergio Leone’s OTT screenplay. I can’t recall watching it before and it may have been because it was on the tails of Clint Eastwood films (i.e. considered 2^nd class at the time). Gia texted late on, but I left it to this am to answer. Robert has his Norway ticket.

I had a bad night, but was up early for clearing the cottage and heading off towards Benbulben (i.e. Sligo, Benbulben, Enniskillen, Monaghan, Dundalk) at just after 9am.

Glencar Waterfall

The trip to Sligo was uneventful but the cloudbase was low and it was another mizzly day. I saw a sign for Rosses Point so headed down there to get a view of Sligo Bay and I also saw Benbulben. The lower parts were ‘greyed out’ due to the mizzle, but the edge of the cliff could be seen and the distinctive shape made out before the upper part disappeared into cloud. There was no sense in going there so I took the Enniskillen road until I saw a turn-off for the Glencar Valley. I had plenty of time, so headed along there to the Glencar waterfall. I walked the short distance to the fall and took a couple of pictures. Then past Enniskillen, through Northern Ireland  (including the depressing sight of the Police Station at Lisnaskea) to Monaghan and Castleblaney before arriving at P+M’s.

 

Curiously, Sunday passed without much memory! I didn't dress, but took Pamela up to Faughart for some snaps.

At the Fairways Hotel

On Monday we met J+A in mufti at the Gateway (was Crown Plaza) at 4pm to say 'Hello'. We arranged to pick them up to take them to The Fairways for a meal and then at 5pm left to change. Debbi took P and M while I collected Jenny and A. It was a good meal. The Fairways was busy, but I used my deafness card and we got a table in the dining room which was laid for breakfast and empty. One of the waitresses took pictures for us.

After dinner Pamela suggested we drive to Blackrock for pictures, which was an excellent decision.

At Blackrock

 I dropped J+A back at their hotel and arranged to meet them on Tuesday for a morning visit to the Boyne valley.

We drove to Oldbridge House where we met the others. Oldbridge House was closed for cleaning, but we could see a video of the battle and have a walk around the courtyard. We then drove onto Old Mellifont Abbey (with lots of turning round as road signs were poor/missing. 

Old Mellifont Abbey

 

We had lunch at the Conyngham Arms at Slane and the fun manageress, Samantha, came and found us for a chat. She suggested we should return at a weekend when there is music at a local bar and she would join us for the evening! 

I then dropped J + A at the Gateway, so we could change before a male-mode afternoon, without Debbie,

The Spirit Store

looking at Dundalk town and driving to Faughart for Eric the Bruce’s tomb, St Brigid, and the view to the Cooley Peninsula. We then discovered the Spirit Store at Dundalk Port which was a great pink pub, and which rounded off the day!

At Killeavy Castle Hotel

Wednesday was a busy day that didn’t quite work out. I picked J + A up and we drove to Carlingford, planning to meet at Ruby Ellens but they were shut. Debbie showed J and A the old town mint and gaol before we settled on The Coffee House at Fishy Dishy, next to some very loud ladies. I wanted to see the 'Ogham Stone', which was a phony – it was just a modern stone depicting the Ogham script. Then it was a rush back to the Gateway so that J+A could change for afternoon tea. I did a quick change at P+Ms before going back to pick up J+A and driving to Killeavy Castle Hotel, over in NI, for afternoon tea. The tea was in the lounge which was a little awkward as the sofa I sat on was very low! I stayed with A when the others made their way up to the castle for pictures. I drove J+A back to the Gateway and we arranged to have lunch there the next day before they left. Pamela+M and me in male mode met J+A for lunch at the Gateway (excellent value carvery)  before our farewells.

On Friday I dressed in black skirt and blouse to write up my journal ... which is why it's here!!! 

We all agreed it had been a great get-together and we hope to repeat it next year, perhaps for longer. We knew we'd over-stretched ourselves on the Wednesday (too much driving along the motorway) but that leaves much else to be seen, including the Nikki Kent Bridge (famous for me having put my foot in through it back in 2018.

At Cabra Castle

Saturday was a rest day and then on Sunday we went with Debbie to Cabra Castle for lunch and Nuremore for tea. 

 

 

 

 

Finally, on Monday, having taken P+M to Ravensdale for a last look at the Nikki Kent Bridge, it was time to leave for my ferry and an overnight journey back to Kent.

Mary McAleese Bridge over the Boyne heading for Dublin Port

 

Onto Mayo and Back to Dundalk

 I had booked a small cottage near the Great Western Greenway from 31 May for a week and took my leave of Pamela and M before heading there via Mullingar and Castlebar. Roadworks west of Newport confused me and I 'sort of' wasted an hour on the last few hundred yards.

The Cottage

 The key was waiting for me and there were scones, soda  bread, butter, milk and a little jam. There was a shortage of  electric points, so I was pleased I'd taken my mains/usb  extn cable. I had bought dry goods etc. at the Dundalk Dunnes store so, with what had been provided, I had no need for anything else for the week.

 

One of the Rams

 

I had a short stroll that evening and encountered two rams ...  I decided they would prefer to be alone!

The scenery was just as I expected it from looking at maps etc. and I could work out where to walk the next day

 

In the Living Room

 

After a shower I changed and took some snaps and found out what was in the cottage and, more importantly, what wasn't! For me, there was little lacking, including an annoyingly de-laminated stainless steel pan which took 20 minutes to get to a simmer.

 

 

 

 

June 1 - Local

The next morning I headed off - there was light drizzle which stopped and I headed along farm dirt roads past peat diggings before heading east towards Furnace Lough. A local farmer waved from his truck - a  friendly gesture that was to be repeated each time I came across farmers. The only other things around were sheep and the occasional skylark. 

Peat Drying

The dirt roads made walking easy and it wasn't long before I reached Salmon Leap Bridge which is also a monitoring station for fish - salmon, trout and eel - both leaving and returning to the lough.

Salmon Leap Bridge

 

 

 

 Leaving the bridge I knew that I was near one of the lanes I had fruitlessly driven down on the Saturday and that gave me the confidence to continue around the lough which would mean I could have a close look at Burrishoole Bridge.

Furnace Lough

Then it was back along a section of the Great Western Greenway to the cottage. The Greenway runs, for most of its length, along the route of the old Westport to Achill railway that shut in 1937. The cottage I was staying in was a railway crossing guard's house when the railway ran. While I applaud the cycle route, it is not that good for walkers (endless tarmac and self-absorbed cyclists) and I preferred the dirt roads.

Burrishoole Bridge

That evening, back at the cottage, after a shower I tried another long skirt and a top. I had left my dresses at Pamela's, but had three skirts and a number of tops with me. The walk had been 12 Km, which was fine.

June 2 - Local

The next day I walked west along the Greenway, and came across my first orchids, (Dactylorhiza, marsh orchids) growing where sheep didn't graze (they are notorious nibblers), but after a while the boredom of the tarmac got to me and I headed off on a dirt road towards the hills. Then it started to rain, so rather than continue into the hills I turned parallel to Ben Gorm and when I could see the cottage, I headed back there for a hot shower! A shorter walk this, 8 Km, and rather boring along the Greenway.

 June 3 - Achill

Achillbeg Lazy Beds

There is so much to see in Co.Mayo. I had been to Achill before, but this time I had megaliths in mind - in particular, a court tomb on Slievemore. We had visited the deserted village there in 2019 but I was unaware of the nearby megalith. First, however, I wanted to revisit the Corraun peninsula.The most interesting part was the sheep-less Corraun Pier road, for the wild flowers including a fine display of  marsh orchids. There was also a view across to Achillbeg, a now-deserted island. The field system showed the remnants of lazy beds, used for potato growing. There was fencing overlying the dry walls which seemed to indicate a maintenance of ownership.

  

Before Slievemore, I drove to Dugort on the north coast and came across the story of Rev Edward Nangle and 'The Colony' - Protestant evangelism in destitute Catholic Achill. There are two Wikipedia articles - Dugort and Edward Nangle which give a glimpse into life on Achill in the 1830's before An Gorta Mór (The Great Hunger). 

 

 

Court Tomb, Slievemore

The setting of the Court Tomb on the lower slopes of Slievemore must be wonderful on a fine day! It looks directly south. In the photo, the tiny island of Inishgalloon is to the right. 

From there I decided to forsake Keem Strand, which I'd seen before, as the weather was not getting better. As the weather forecast wasn't brilliant and my bruised toe hurt, I decided the next day I would drive and have a look at the higher hills and mountains of Mayo - a recce for a future trip.

 June 4 - Wild Nephin

Where I was staying was south of  'Wild Nephin National Park', some new term for a place that doesn't need it. I think it is the same as Ballycroy National Park. We visited a bit of it (the visitor centre) back in 2019 and I was entranced by the other-worldliness of the Nephin Beg mountains.

View from Ballycroy Visitor Centre, 2019

 

 

Daboecia cantabrica (2019)

 

So, I decided to travel along 'Nephin  Drive' which would give some insight into this expanse of mountain and blanket bog. It's in places like this that I wish I was younger and fitter to become more immersed in the landscape and nature, but I content myself nowadays with photography and the occasional foray into plant identification (I've not taken a field guide to Ireland, yet!) At the visitor centre in 2019 we had come across Daboecia cantabrica (Irish heath) which had also excited the rangers there. What had struck me the day before on Achill was the preponderance of the invasive Rhododendron ponticum which, although attractive when in flower, is a serious problem. 'Nephin Drive' hugs the base of Srahmore and the Rhododendron can be seen scrambling up its lower slopes:

Srahmore and Rhododendron

 

 

Green Bridge River

The road then touched on the national park and there were a couple of places to stop. Signs indicated that within the park, Rhododendron control was taking place (herbicide). Brogan Carroll Bothy is a main stop with walks (Letterkeen/Srahrevagh Trailhead) leading from it, together with facilities such as toilets and solar-powered defibrillator and is next to the attractive Green Bridge River (Holes River on my map).

I had a short stroll but, as always with 'touring' by car, there is a concern about time, so I moved on, stopping just to photograph a rather incongruous American memorial - a stainless steel plaque on a large stone recounting that "This area of forest commemorates Irish emigrants who contributed so significantly to the welfare of the United States of America in general and of New York in particular". It's a curious memorial that doesn't cite who erected it.

A final stop was at a spectacular viewing location, giving a panorama of the eastern Nephin Beg.

From then on, the weather was dreek and I simply drove to Bangor Erris and down to Mulranny and the cottage. 

June 5 - Into Connemara 

Croagh Patrick from Old Head 

More rain ... Ireland!!! In 2019, we had also travelled south in Co.Mayo, particularly to visit the Doo Lough valley, a scene of terrible callousness during An Gorta Mór. I wanted to revisit it and 'dip a toe' into Joyce Country, so I joined the endless traffic jam to get through Westport and headed to Louisburgh. There was a particular reason for this  route - another megalith! First things first - a stop at Old Head for a view back to Croagh Patrick. The main summit was above the cloud base - the story of this trip! There was an attractive beachcomber at Old Head:

Grey Wagtail (male)

I took a couple of pictures of the bird, but the identifying one (showing its black throat) was quite fuzzy!

Inishturk with Caher Island to the fore

 

 

 

 

En route to the megalith (found courtesy of google maps - my 'Ireland West' map being rather confusing) I
stopped by a surfing beach and took some fairly monochrome shots of the surf and islands. I was surprised to read that Inishturk is inhabited, albeit by less than 60 people, but it has a primary school! Turning inland towards Doolough, I found the Srahwee Wedge Tomb - thought to be the finest in Ireland. It is also known as “Altoir”, apparently because the horizontal stone was used as an altar during the penal times and has a cross crudely inscribed on it.

Srahwee Wedge Tomb

The tomb dates from the late Bronze Age (~2000BCE). The location of the wedge tomb (so-called because of the wedge-like shape - wider at the entrance with a shallow sloping roof) would have been arresting, but that would have been when there was forest, not roads or telegraph poles, and homesteads would have sat in the landscape. Nahallora Lough that it faces has the stumps of 4,500 year-old trees in the edge-side bog. The landscape would have been in transition, due to farming practice triggering the formation of blanket bog.

Srahwee Wedge Tomb with Nahallora Lough

Musing On Grains of Sand

Very short this - really just a thought written down so I don't forget it. For some reason unknown today, Edgar Allan Poe's 'A Dream Within A Dream' came to me today. It was published in 1849: 

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow —

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone? 

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand —

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep — while I weep!

O God! Can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

And immediately I connected it with William Blake's 'Auguries on Innocence', the relevant text I recall from Jacob Bronowski, in 'The Ascent of Man' (btw commissioned by the then David Attenborough)

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour. 

 

etc. 

 

 Blake wrote this in 1803 but it was only published after his death in 1863.

 

Both deal with life - one describing loss, the other wonder, but both use grains of sand. For myself, I was more drawn to Blake's 'Heaven in a Wild Flower' which, for someone of an evolutionary ecology leaning, sums up organic life.

 

Later ... I didn't get around to posting the above as a short blog before I ventured off to Ireland.

 

The crossing was super - flat sea and full sun made it clear just how populated the seas are with creatures. Although I'm not a birder I did work out that shearwaters were very common a few miles off the coast of Ireland, as were gannets. I put a picture on flickr which gives a little more information.

 

Blake from a Death Mask

Arriving in Ireland, the heat was not much less than that in Kent and the day after I arrived we just took things easy, in the hope that the next day might be better, but it was the same and blustery, so Pamela and I in boy mode took the train to Dublin to visit the National Gallery, one of my favourites places. I wanted to view more of Jack B Yeats' pictures as my brushwork has started to loosen and I thought I could pick up ideas, but I was waylaid by the William Blake Exhibition: 

 Only about a quarter of the art was by Blake as the exhibition covered him and his contemporaries who either inspired him, or were inspired by him, in the 'Age of Romantic Fantasy'. It was interesting in understanding how the Gothic of later years must have evolved. I have always been ambivalent about Blake's imagery, but seeing it the 'flesh' was fascinating, as well as seeing some of the contemporaneous works, including Turner.

 

 

 

 

There has been far less dressing this trip, partly because of the unseasonal temperatures, but partly also because we shall be meeting up with Jenny Turner in a couple of weeks. Tomorrow, I head off to do some sightseeing and walking in Co. Mayo, but today is the 2nd anniversary of Pauline's death and we are going out for a meal in memory of her. I said to Pamela when I wanted to do this that it wasn't to be sad and that we could have whatever we wanted as the meal was being paid for by someone who has joined the Choir Invisible (cue Monty Python Parrot Sketch). Of course, there has been another side to today as I emailed Pauline's sister today and the tears welled up.

 

I'll finish for now, not with Blake, or Poe, but Jack's brother, WB Yeats, writing of love unfulfilled:

 

Tread softly for you tread upon my dreams 

 

 

April, Came She Did ... And Then She Went!

OK, Nikki, this is a blog … why aren’t you writing anything?

As my favourite intro for any tune now is ‘Here We Go’ (Max Richter - On The Nature of  Daylight  (Entropy) | 2018 Version ) … here we go …

Who knows what lies in the subconscious? I had been hyping my trip to Dartmoor and the walking to myself for months. I had packed all my walking gear with plenty of sustenance (mars bars, frusli cereal bars and apple juice) and yet there was no impetus once I was there. It may have been because things camera-wise had gone wrong after a fraught week with laptops, or because my memory of places to visit was too strong to need refreshing. Or maybe, it was subconscious … that the trip was really just to call in on my sister and brother-in-law a couple of hours further on in Cornwall. I am acutely aware of getting old myself now, and my sister is 8 years older. At some time that familial connection will go. On top of that, because my trip home would clash with my art class, I left Devon a day early so I could get back in time for my class. Things are afoot, Nikki, life is on the move … where to next, I wonder?

My eyes. My eyes have a life of their own! The strabismus (squint) I had seems to have been due to ‘lazy eye’ as my vision appears dependent on what I’ve been looking at immediately before. So, if I move immediately from viewing the laptop straight onto trying to drive a car, there will be ‘dodgy but safe’ vision for anything up to half an hour. Then I also dive into the realm of long-sightedness with no useful near-sight, something unknown since I was about eight years old, and that confuses both my brain and face. I’m so used to the physical sensation of glasses on my head that any discomfort makes me reach to take off imaginary glasses. Add to that an increased intolerance of bright light and I thank (dare I say it) Amazon, which has supplied me with a variety of very cheap Chinese glasses from which to choose comfort. Currently, I use 2 dioptre glasses for doing what I do now – close use, and switch to 1 dioptre brown tinted sunglasses for driving and daylight use. I do also have (and very expensive they were) photochromic varifocals from the opticians for times when I don’t know what to wear. Would I have had cataract surgery, had I known the changes to the minutiae of my life? … The jury’s out. The thing I come back to, however, is if cataract surgery has had such effect now, how would I cope in several years’ time?

OK, so that covers your abortive walking on Dartmoor and your collection of spex, Nikki… what else has been happening, if anything???

Well, this is MY blog, so I could bore intensely about sorting out the Tbs of words, imagery, and links that I have stored over multiple external hard drives. This reminds me of when I was about 13 years old that all one day and night and all the following day, I sat in my bedroom using a Stanley Gibbons Catalogue to order my random collection of stamps (all worthless!) That was back in the day … it was better than staring out of the window at what was then greyness beyond, but kids didn’t get depressed in those days … it took 4 years for me to be wrongly diagnosed with neurasthenia and it took another year before an elder brother who had been seeing a shrink privately, got me to get treatment for depression. For a university student with an active brain, the treatment – talking, tablets, and a maintenance jab of antidepressant worked but left my imagination numb. I preferred the agony and ecstasy of a stressed brain, so quit the treatment after a few months. I have since lived with waves of depression my whole life.

Back to the ordinary life of a mainly stay-at-home Tgirl …

I know I have just a few weeks before heading off to Ireland for three weeks and my home is a tip, so I’m turning my efforts to at least tidying some of it …

 

 … and away!!!       

The last expression above is just a memory for ‘Gone Fishing’s’ Ted, the dog that stole the show. For me, there has been a bit of a hiatus while doing stuff – gardening, shopping, and discouraging a local squirrel, but I set today, May 1^st, aside for catching up. Back to the Tbs. I’ve scattered various old pics through this blog that might have also gone onto flickr but didn't while I await an opportunity to dress up and sort out the wardrobe for Ireland.

He knows what he’s taking, but for Nikki, who occasionally goes butch, there are challenges – a potential petticoat parade through a supermarket as well as several days and evenings out, to include two new visitors to Ireland. It’ll be interesting, especially as I’m breaking my time in Dundalk with a week in Co. Mayo, walking and coastal visiting – Inishkea, if I’m lucky.

 

Now it’s May, so I’d better sign off and as I started with some modern classical, I’ll end with a modern classic, Four Strong Winds, played by John Tams and Barry Coope, who I saw three times between 2010 and 2017. Sadly, Barry Coope passed away not so long ago.

  Update 2nd May!!!

 I alluded to lifelong periods of depression above, but nowadays these are are just ripples in my consciousness rather than the stormy seas of my youth. The curious thing after publishing the original is that I suddenly remembered the antidepressent - tryptizol - I was treated with some 58 years ago and which I thought I had forgotten forever.

Following on from that, I also realised that I had done a few other things, so while this blog is open ...

  More books for the Folkestone LBQT bookstore: I found I had lots more books that might be of interest to those in the LGBT+ world, so another package was put together and taken in. It felt good to be contributing, given that I never go to Pride events (which seem to have now come to a stop in most places anyway). There was going to be one in Deal this summer and the local U3A was encouraging members to attend. I was tempted - I'll be at home then, but it's been cancelled for lack of cash. As for the books I took in, I can't remember them all - there were about 15, although they included Edward Ball's 'Peninusla of Lies' and Francis Wheen's 'Who Was Dr Charlotte Bach?' as well as Jayne County's 'Man Enough To Be A Woman'. And, since then,  I've yet another pile being assembled!

The books that haven't gone are few and far between. I had bought a copy of Patrick White's 'The Twyborn Affair' some years ago on abe books as my original had long gone. It was the first and, perhaps only, serious novel dealing with trans-identity that I read (I did indulge in some Ed Wood potboilers). I'm keeping my replacement.

My friend, Sue, mentioned Lisetta Carmi and her book  'Travestiti', a photobook of Tgirls in Genoa during the 60's and 70's. I was able to buy a modern reprint a while ago. I had bought Byron Newman's 'The Ultimate Angels' before, photoreportage of the transsexual world of Paris in the late70's/early 80's. Both are rare, the Carmi edition I have cannot be found through its ISBN, indicating the publisher may no longer exist and it is not for sale anywhere while the original is very expensive. I can only find one copy of the Newman book for sale.

 

 

These books represent an underworld that, although still in existence, has been surpassed by a general acceptance in western society of the trans phenomenon. Life may not be easy now, especially with the 'culture wars' of the last decade, but it is better than it was.

 

Other photobooks which cover the less commercial side of the trans existence include Barry Kay's 'The Other Women' portaying Melbourne trans people in the 70's and 'Men in Frocks' by Kris Kirk and Ed Heath (1984) which covers the wider cultural and performance aspects of gay/trans/drag in the UK. Amongst these are a couple of photobooks covering the work of Nan Goldin, in the US, which move into the darker world of drugs and HIV/Aids.

 

Enough of the books.

 

(Corrections for errors later) 

 

OK, I forgot ... I've covered trans photobooks for Italy, France, UK, Australia and the US is partially covered by Nan Goldin, but I also have 'Casa Susanna' to complete the US. (3 May update).

 

 Quick 4 May Update: listening to John Tams, unaccompanied solo on BBC Radio 3 'In Tune' singing 'Only Remembered' from Warhorse, more to come.

 

May 6 Update: at this rate I should be writing a new blog!  Monday was spent removing all imagery from the microsoft cloud. Why? Well, sometimes I'm not online and I want to do stuff, like delete unwanted pics. If they're in the cloud as well, the laptop refuses me! What amazed me was how much was in the cloud, all unbidden by me: over 90Gb! Since my laptop only runs with about 12Gb free space, that meant that d'loading onto an XHD for later inspection was a long drawn out process. It's now down, as are all my HEIC pix on the phone. They've been moved simply because whenever I want to transfer a photo from phone to laptop, all the photos seem to have to open up. I'm probably missing something there, but now I can control things myself (I think???) 

 

Anyway, for all these doings, I am pleased that I can now access photos going back to the '60's quickly. The photo below is from 1974, of a coke can floating in a public pond, considerably modified in GIMP.