In the morning, the sky was gray and the wind was absolutely wild. However, it seemed to be no bother for the Irish as I was told to grab a bike and head down for the new harbor. On the way out we got caught in a bit of rain, so they decided to turn back and instead we loaded up the car and drove the two seconds down to see the Turk a bit closer. Just as we made it down there a ferry from Clare Island came in and loaded on its passengers, it seemed that there were some people who lived on the island getting on since they loads and loads of bags from Dunnes as it looked like they were gathering supplies for the flood, but in actuality they were simply going grocery shopping since they obviously do not have easy access to a shop. Kevin’s three girls delighted in the boat and at looking out at the ocean with Eve being particularly interested in the buoys. We were there about noon and the ferry out to Inishturk had left around eleven. Although I honestly don’t know if I could have handled the rocking of the waves that day as the water was insanely choppy with the brewing Atlantic storm. Instead, just as I had done before, I waved out to the island and could not do much more. We stayed for a bit while longer and the girls played on the rocks while I had a lovely solo photo taken with the Turk in the background. The wind felt as though it was going to blow me over, I had no clue how the little girls had not already been flung into the depths of the ocean in what felt like hurricane weather.
Soon though we headed back for the car and went to explore more. We drove to a beach and had spotted someone kite surfing off on a distant beach so we turned around and tried to locate where we could find the surfer. The roads in the area are well…fairly similar to the way they were probably in the 1800s. There is a slight amount of asphalt on them, but it is more of rocks and stones with the smoothness being comparable to the sea that day. They also make sudden turns taking you around constant blind corners, leading one to have white knuckles and mutter a few Hail Marys by the end of the journey. After a few wrong turns, we finally found ourselves at the right beach, where I was informed scenes from the Quiet Man were also filmed. We stood on the freezing, windy beach for a while and watched the kite surfer. The wind took his 8-meter long kite and whipped him around on the board he was attached to, he would fly in the air for a few seconds and then come crashing back into the water. Soon enough he was tangled and had to come back to shore so Kevin was lucky enough to launch him back out to sea when the surfer was ready. Eventually we were all wind-blown enough that we were hungry and ready to head in for lunch. We managed to make all the right turns and made it to the house.
For the afternoon we relaxed and played out in the wind for a bit. I was so tired from the previous day and simply trying to stand up while being outside that I needed a serious nap. Before I knew it, it was time for dinner and we had a wonderful meal. After dinner, we piled in the car for one more drive and we went down to another harbor with a beautiful view of Croagh Patrick in the clouds. From there, we journeyed through what I have found to be absolutely the most beautiful part of Ireland that I will ever see. If you have ever seen the Lord of the Rings or views of New Zealand, you will get the same scenes in Mayo--breathtakingly gorgeous. The mountains all hover over you and are being revealed every which way. There is also only one fjord in Ireland and in the midst of the lush green mountains is where it is found. Unfortunately with the weather I was not able to get a great glimpse at its beauty, but even in the inclement weather, I knew it was like nothing I had ever seen before. Sadly we turned back for the house although I could have sat out there for days. But more play was requested by the girls and I grew more tired. Eventually things started to wind down and after a few minutes of Eve’s favorite of Fairytopia, I was ready for bed. However, Kevin had a few different plans.
He wanted to take me into Louisburgh for a pint at McNamara’s and we hoped they would turn out to be relatives. When we walked in, I was surprised at how many people were actually out. It seemed that everyone had a long day and was looking to wind down with a drink. We talked with Kevin’s uncle for a bit who also lives just across the road from the house and then when the drink was finished, we moved down to another pub which was owned by another neighbor of his. Duffy’s was the smallest pub I have been to since I arrived in Ireland. It was roughly the size of my dining room back home. It was filled with a few tables and then stools at the bar. In the corner sat a man on his accordion and a man with a guitar. They played for a bit and then the singing started. However, it was not a group singing together, but rather a woman singing accapella. She sung a beautiful old song, which was an old fisherman’s song—her voice was gorgeous and reminded me of all that was Mayo. However, Kevin had said that I might have to sing a song of my own so I grew a bit nervous. I hurried with my pint in hopes that either I would gain more courage if I were to sing or that Kevin would get the hint that I was ready to go and would be able to skip out on the singing. Soon enough we were off though and we tried another pub down the street with another family name, Cronin. However, it was closed so we just headed home. Even though Louisburgh is small, it provided me with a sense of the true country people of Mayo, with the old men and their Guinness gathered around having their own gossip and then the women daintily standing having their own gossip. Overall I loved my night out in Louisburgh, even more so that everyone did not have to be made deaf with my singing voice. The wind that night was insane and forced me to put in my earplugs as I felt as though the house was literally going to blow over at any second.
In the morning, the wind was still howling away. We had breakfast and then went on another drive. We went and saw yet another harbor and as we pulled up, there were people in wetsuits out in the water. I sat there freezing wondering how in the world the people had the guts to wade out into the water, clearly I am not Irish because I would have found the conditions to be on par with a polar bear plunge. I just stood on the shore looking all American as Hannah jumped into the water for a solid half hour in her wetsuit. I don't think I would have even lasted half a minute. Everyone was shedding their layers, but I was quite content with my jacket and sweatshirt as the clouds were still lingering and then the rain began to fall. We then went into town and the girls were treated with a trip to the sweet shop which reminded me a great amount of myself going to Ben Franklin when I was younger and making a dollar turn into 100 pieces of candy. From there we stopped a playground and I would have been sincerely happy to stay in the warm car, but out we got and with the wind tearing my hair nearly off my head we stayed for a bit. Then we went back to the house for some lunch and we compared all of the different words that we change between here and home. From there we loaded up the car and drove to the train station, we said our good-byes and I was off on a lovely four hour train ride back to Dublin. What a Fourth of July!
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