Pittsburgh

We both have spent a lot of our lives in Pittsburgh.   Ben was born there and John lived there for several years about 30 years ago working for WPXI-TV.  We have been there regularly since then, once a month for many years to see our folks and more lately once or twice a year for family activities and seeing friends.  In 30 years the city has changed dramatically.  While Ben went to lunch with his friend Russell, John went exploring.

He took the Busway downtown (since over 65s travel for free in Pennsylvania and who wants to hassle with parking!).   The Busway was under construction when he arrived in 1980.   At Penn Station, he got off to start a walking tour of downtown.   Penn Station was derelict in 1980, now it's an upscale condo.   The new bus station across the street takes the place of a dank smelly old Greyhound terminal on the same spot, torn down about 20 years ago.   He crossed Grant Street, shadowed now by the UPMC Building, formerly the US Steel Building, and down Liberty Avenue, scene of many a gay evening 30 years ago.  Liberty Avenue now houses lofts and theaters, parks and restaurants, and the August Wilson Center, named after the playwright who grew up in the Hill District.

Liberty Avenue still has a bit of a raw edge at some parts, but it is changing dramatically, and after a turn toward the Allegheny through streets lined with buildings that were crumbling 30 years ago and are now totally restored and grander than when they were built, he arrived at the 9th Street Bridge.  Now it's the Andy Warhol Bridge and leads to the Warhol Museum on the North Side.  The 6th and7th Street Bridges are also renamed--Roberto Clemente Bridge and Rachel Carson Bridge.  What's special at the moment is the Warhol Bridge, nicknamed for three weeks the "Knit Bridge."   The bridge towers are covered with fabric and the pedestrian walkways are lined with knitted panels, all individually done, in a variety of colors, patterns and designs.  It's a three week show sponsored by the Warhol Musuem, and surely enlivens downtown's street scape.

After walking over the Allegheny and back, he ventured into Market Square, near the Point, he passed some kids, and some child-like adults, playing in the water fountains in front of the PPG Building, the crystal like edifice that houses one of Pittsburgh's oldest companies.   A quick T trip under the river to test the new tunnel out to PNC Stadium and Heinz Field, and then over to the South Side to take the incline up to Mount Washington to see the view and then lunch at the Micro Diner on Shiloh Street.  The view from Mount Washington is incredible and gives Pittsburghers and tourists that "wow" sensation of overlooking the Point, the three rivers, Allegheny, Monongahela and Ohio, and the distant countryside ribbed with hills.

We had gone to Pittsburgh, of course, to see family and friends and had two lovely evenings at home in Edgewood with friends, and then a night out at Legume, on North Craig Street, a lovely restaurant that had moved several years ago from its start-up site in Regent Square, where we had eaten.  It has changed, but clearly for the better.  It's in the space where we used to hold Ben's mother's and dad's birthday and anniversary parties, but it sure doesn't look like the old Moré's anymore.

The other reason to visit was to go to a distant cousin's wedding.  Held at the Arts and Crafts Center in Mellon Park, about a mile from where we used to live in Squirrel Hill, the ceremony was lovely.   It was preceded by a rehearsal dinner the night before at Soba Lounge in Shadyside, one of Pittsburgh's superb restaurants, an Asian fusion place with a very good bar, and then followed by the reception at J Verno's studio on the South Side---a venue for celebrations.   Since the groom works for the Big Burrito Group, owner of Soba Lounge and Eleven, the food was exquisite and seemingly never ending--from shrimp to veggies  to cheeses to meats to fish to nibbles to champagne, and then dancing.  It was superb.  We wish Samantha and Josh a life as wonderful as their wedding.

Here are some pictures of the walking tour John took...on a beautiful day.

July and August--The Beach and New England

We had a short trip to Asbury Park on one of the hottest weekends of July, the 19th through the 22nd,  to see friends.  Great to see friends but it was so hot we only made it to the beach one afternoon for a couple of hours, danced around to cool off in the waves, and had ice cream on the Boardwalk. 

Even though it was the Asbury Park Circuit Party weekend, with lots of eye candy around--though mostly tattooed to excess--we didn’t venture out to a disco or club.  Just too hot.  We read, watched movies and generally conversed with our friends, whom we regrettably see only once or twice a year.

We had one fun dinner at a down-home Italian restaurant, Vic’s, south of Asbury Park in  Bradley Beach.  Excellent pizza.

We did our normal slow run home, even wandering around Cherry Hill looking for the local H Mart Korean Market.  We eventually found it, about two mile in the wrong direction from where the maps said it was!  

Our next trip was north to Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts to see family and friends.   We didn’t eat out or visit anywhere in Fairfield, Connecticut, except for falafel at Layla’s on Black Rock Turnpike.  The Fairfield Town Museum, showing an excellent collection of photographs and a small collection of clothes from the Revolution to World War I, was a good way to spend a rainy afternoon.  The weather was fabulous and the sunset---well:

From there we traveled north to Providence to stop by the Rhode Island School of Design Museum’s show on the The Dandy, which was excellent.  It had been well written up in the Wall Street Journal and several other publications so it became a must.  We only had two hours but could have spent longer looking over the development of high Dandy style from the days of Beau Brummell during the reign of George IV through recent Dandies, including both the late Fred Astaire and George V.  Cartoons, swatches of cloth, designs, and models were very interesting.A quick run around Providence, looking at old sites from John’s childhood, including the old office building where his dad sometimes worked now acquired and being remodeled by RISD, and lunch from a food truck on the banks of the river, which was a slum part of town 60 years ago, now totally changed.  Who would have ever thought there would be gondolas on the Providence River.

Further south we spent four days with friends from New Orleans who rent a house in Tiverton every summer.  Great weather, with lows in the high 50F’s and beautiful sunsets.  We enjoyed clams, oysters, lobsters, fish...salads...and some good rum drinks.  And of course martinis for Elaine and John.   No swimming but some good walks through the town of Bristol along Hope Street and coffees at a favorite hole.

We also did a quick day trip to New Bedford for lunch at the Antonio Restaurant, famous for its Portuguese cuisine.  Good paiella, great clams, langostini, and mussels.  Very down home kind of place, but the food is good, the portions enormous and the local accent a strange noise to the ears.

We spent a morning doing a walk through the historic district of Fall River, once a huge cotton town.  Now it’s not much of a place, and the architecture of the historic district can’t compare to Providence or Bristol, which were both ports.  Mostly large late 19th century buildings, built more for show than merit.  The warships are good to see--the old USS Massachusetts from the Second World War, with three others--a destroyer and a sub among them.

We finished off the trip with a day in Arlington, Massachusetts with our grandson.   Lovely way to finish the trip.

An active but not particularly photographic Spring and Summer

Spring and summer have been busy, but not with extensive travels.   We've made two trips up the East Coast to Massachusetts to visit relatives and enjoyed both trips.  Travel is sometimes difficult with increasing traffic--it took us nearly 12 hours to get to suburban Boston from Capitol Hill on our last trip north--but we try to schedule times to avoid the worst.   

We'll have more to post as the summer progresses, so hold on...

Fauré and Leighton

We started the morning deciding to explore Portobello Road's antique shops.   It's a short walk from where we stayed.    The place was in its Friday state, not terribly crowded and not overwhelmed with street hawkers, but there are plenty of them.   Many of the antique shops appear to be shuttered compared to last time.   We enjoying moseying about and did purchase a small piece of silver plate, but it was more of a morning just browsing at the latest fashions both on Portobello Road and Westbourne Grove than much else.  A pleasant morning.   The food market looked good, too.

We lunched at Paul's on good sandwiches and good coffee.  Soon we will find out if the London loyalty card works in Washington.

In the afternoon, following on a piece from the NY Times, we went to the see the late 19th century home of the artist Frederic, Lord Leighton, a fashionable, rich, portraitist, probably gay, who lived in an encrusted Victorian place alone.  Much like Olana of Frederick Church, up the Hudson, the house is full of his interests in the Middle East, with magnificent tile work and an Arab domed room, but it's still a Victorian pile.    He was part of the Holland Park art group and a president of the Royal Academy of Art.   The art is very pre-Raphaelite.

On the way we passed through a neighborhood of very large, but very secure homes, with heavy police presence.  It appeared to be a street of embassy houses, but one had these two naked men over the portico.  Hmm.

We walked back through the park, stopping to watch a group of students with teacher study aerodynamics and fluid mechanics with missile water bombs.  

The evening started with a long bus ride, trapped in heavy traffic in Central London.   45 minutes to get from Oxford Circus to Shaftesbury Road (less than a mile).  But we made it to St Martin's in time for a light dinner and then the concert.

A magnificent presentation of Mozart, Vivaldi and Fauré.  The Requiem of course was the central piece.   The rumble of the organ, the excellence of the soloists and the fine orchestra, made it better than we have ever heard it.

And now this morning, Saturday, to the airport and home.

Two Full Days in London

The Heathrow Express is so easy, though a bit expensive.   The Underground with bags is not.   We thought to take the Express and then get a taxi, but then decided we'd do the Underground to Holland Park.   Don't.  From Paddington it requires a change at Notting Hill, and there is nothing bag-friendly about a line transfer.  Stairs, stairs and more stairs.  What would England do about a Disabilities Act with a system that is 150 years old!  We made it, but at significant effect on muscles and joints.

Our BnB, the Kiln House in Holland Park, is everything we remembered and the landlady, Lee, is equally as delightful as during our last visit 2-1/2 years ago.   The mews house is contemporary, probably about 40 years old, built around a  hop kiln.  Very comfortable, very good continental breakfast, and an easy walk to busses and the tube.

And a chance to look at some of the more trendy fashions--very tight jeans rolled up almost above the top of socks, along with rolled beanies.   Ah, the 60s are back!

We had a slow Wednesday afternoon but ventured out to a delightful Persian restaurant for dinner.   It is the Chelem Sotoun, on Holland Park Road.  It's only been open a few days, according to Lee the landlady, and she had not been in it.  We had two lovely eggplant appetizers, served with naan bread that they heat on a hot dome just before serving.  The appetizers were kasha-o-baadenjan, a mix of fried eggplant, walnuts, onion, whey and fried mint, and mirza ghassemi, baked eggplant, garlic, onions, tomatoes and eggs.   Our mains were equally as tasty.  Ben had a ghemieh baddenjan stew, a vegetarian dish of eggplant, yellow split peas, onion, tomato, lime juice and spices. John enjoyed a zeresk polo, a stewed chicken leg in a red tomato and red bell pepper broth, served with a mixed basmati and brown rice with pomegranate seeds.  He enjoyed two glasses of a Provençale rosé.  What was even nicer was the bill, which came in at about USD30 per person.

Yesterday we headed off to the National Portrait Galley for the Man Ray photo show.  It includes Man Ray's work from the start of his photo career in 1916 through to his death in 1976.  As the photographer of the arts crowd in Paris in the 20s and 30s he did portraits of all the greats--Picasso, Braque, Gertrude and Alice, Duchamp, Dali and so on.  One of the most interesting subjects, though, was his mistress Lee Miller, a stunning beauty of Garbo-esque stature.   

Lovely loaves on Regent St

St Martin's

Trafalgar Square

As we left walking down to Trafalgar Square, we avoided a guy passing out flyers until John noticed that it was for a performance of Fauré's Requiem at  St Martin in the Fields, just across the street.  He went back for the paper and we decided to get tickets for the performance for tonight, since SMITF is a place we have never been before.   We will enjoy it.  We're also going to do a repeat performance of yesterday's excellent lunch in the crypt for dinner.  Lunch was soup and a vegetable stew, excellent.  We'll see what they offer for dinner.

Last night we went to the West End for the slapstick farce One Man, Two Guv'nors, at the Royal Haymarket Theatre.  It was hilariously funny, very broad music hall humor, lots of sexual innuendos, and not so innuendo.  Set in the early 60s, it's a belly-laugh a minute and must be incredibly exhausting for the performers.

After the show, we had a late English dinner at Stockpot a restaurant close to the theatre, that was disappointing.   We had planned to have chicken and mushroom pot pies, but they were out of them.  Ben had "sort-of" scampi which may have had some shrimp somewhere, and John had sausages and chips.   We started with an excellent lentil soup, but the dinner did not progress to heights from there.   Best, though, was the price, at about USD30 each, including a Lancaster ale.

Easy ride on the tube home making all connections, but the transfers between lines are quite lengthy.  We had forgotten.  But the tube has been upgraded because of last year's Olympics, with most of the cars in very good shape and stations pleasant, though still small, and still without many escalators and elevators.

Finishing off Dublin

We're in Dublin Airport finishing off our visit to Ireland.   James, Priscilla and the girls hugged us goodbye and we agreed to try to meet in Washington sometime next year.   The girls will be grown more by then!   

Last night we had our goodbye dinner to Dublin at Winding Stair.   It's on the banks of the Liffey--found by Ben through a Frank Bruni column in the New York Times.  It's an old warehouse type of place with a bar and a foodie reputation, that it clearly lives up to.  The wine list was lovely, too.

We started with appetizers of salmon, Dingle Bay crab, and a sampling of other bits and pieces of fish from the waters around Ireland.  First Ben ordered a Western Australia, Plantaget sauvignon blanc with the first course.  Then Ben ordered a Cote de Beaune burgundy that was exquisite to go with the mains.  They include a filet steak for James, beef cheeks with kale for John, Priscilla had mixed local seafood and Ben a John Dory.   We walked out raving about the place and enjoyed the evening immensely.

Now to London.

We do Dublin

Dublin isn't a large city, but there is certainly enough to walk our legs to nubs for two days, and the weather was not helpful.   

It turned bitterly cold over Sunday night and snowed off and on, not accumulating as it has in England, but certainly noticeable on the ground.  And the windchill factor made it seem like 20F.  Let's say it was cold.

But we walked down to the bus, got our Leap cards for fares, like Washington's Smarttrip or London's Oysters, and board a no. 7 to downtown.  Monday is not a great day to find things open, but we  visited Merrion Square and the monument to Oscar Wilde and noted some of the interesting Dublin street lights!  We  went to the National Gallery and enjoyed listening to a talk on Jack Yeats, an artist of some Irish note.  We didn't care much for the museum's brutal concrete architecture.   We had lunch at Carluccio's, two lovely mushroom and pancetta soups and a small service of tempura vegetables (Italian style).  Then to Insomnia for coffee and a bus home.  It was really too cold to spend time out and about.

We dined at home last night on a free range Irish chicken from Co. Monaghan, which we did not know was a NORTHERN Irish chicken!  The Rhône wine we had to go with it was very nice and the whole meal was full of good conversation, politics and history, of course.

Early to bed.  

This morning, Tuesday, we took the train into Dublin center along the coast and then headed on a tour of the various literary sites in town.   We visited the Garden of Remembrance to the Irish patriots of the 1916 Easter Rebellion, James Joyce's home, the Writer's Museum and the O'Connell Street.  From there it was up to Fixx for coffees and lunch after a walk through Trinity College.   Very pretty this part of town.  

You can't say that central Dublin's monuments are spread out.  From the castle to James Joyce's house is less than a mile, but there is plenty of interesting architecture--including the Parliament House designed by James Hoban, architect of the White House.  It's a very similar design.  The flags were at half mast for the death of the foreign minister, and the photographers were at the gates pleased to have had the opportunity to take a good shot of the hearse.  

We had a look at the bog men in the National Museum--Archeology.  They were found in bogs undecomposed after a millenium or so in the acid bogs with minimal oxygen.  In effect they are mummies.

We visited the Castle, which is closed this year because it's being used for ceremonies associated with Ireland's holding the EU Presidency.   The Beattie Museum on the castle grounds, though, has an excellent book exhibit.  Then home to Dun Laoghaire and preparation for dinner tonight.  

A quick trip to Dublin and the Magpie

A long trip from Killorglin to Dublin.  It's about four hours, give or take, and only about half of it is on the motorway.   Compared to the other National highways (N routes) this route before the motorway was quite good, 100 kmh.  We made a couple of stops for gas to make sure we would not be running on vapor when I turned the car in.

Arriving in Dun Laoghaire, we felt like coming home to be met by James, Priscilla and the girls.  Great evening of conversation and a lovely dinner of pan-fried hake for Ben and fish and chips for John, washed down in John's case by a lovely couple of pints of the local Howling Gale ale.

It got very cold last night and there is some snow on the ground.  Gale force 9 for the winds:   up to 88 kmh or 54 mph.  Today it's off to see a couple of museums and meander around Dublin.  Tomorrow we will take the Trinity College tour of downtown.

Tapas and Dingle's Shore and Mountain Passes

Friday night we decided on something "different" from dinner.  Just around the corner from the Bianconi we had found a Spanish tapas restaurant, so we headed there for dinner, feeling that it was time to have some small plates!   The Sol y Sombra is in a desanctified parish church, not large, but still very impressive with its Gothic architecture.  We had one of two tables at the high altar.  Looking down on the congregation of diners, we decided that four wines by the glass, chosen from different regions of Spain, would be a celebration.

They were a jumilla, from south of Valencia, a castilla leon from the Duoro region, a albariño from Galicia, and a sauvignon blanc from the southeast.  The castilla leon and the sauvignon blanc were the two best.  We enjoyed the jumilla, which was more like a house red, and the albariño was very good, but not of the caliber of the sauvignon blanc.

We had five tapas.  The best was undoubtedly the monkfish wrapped in Spanish bacon, grilled and served in a light sauce.  The others, a small plate of albondigas, meatballs of beef and pork, a platter of grilled vegetables, including asparagus, scallions, eggplant, zucchini and peppers, a casserole type of dish of eggplant, zucchini, serrano ham, shrimp and mancheco cheese melted together, and a dish of patatas bravas.  All were as good as those we had  in Barcelona a number of years ago.  Though the variety was not so wide as in Barcelona, the presentation was excellent.  A note of the other diners--virtually all of them had an invidividual bowl of patatas bravas.  The Irish and their potatoes!

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Today, Saturday, we headed off to the Dingle Peninsula, just to the north of us.  It's similar to the Inveragh Peninsula where we have been, but in many ways different.  To begin with not all signs are in English since it is a major part of the An Ghaeltacht, the area of Ireland where Gaelic is the predominant first language. 

Our stop was the point north of Brandon where the land drops precipitously into the sea.  The cliffs are quite magnificent and the sun shone while we were there, so the views were phenomenal.  Of course, ten minutes later it was drizzling and five minutes after that pouring!  From there we 
crossed the peninsula to the town of Dingle, over the Connor Pass.  The road is single lane up the mountain- side with few viewpoints to the top.  Nevertheless, while the drive is harrowing, the views are magnificent, and I picked up a couple of Irish stones for my collection.  We bought our yoghurt and bananas for lunch, this time at a price like home:  We shopped in a Lidl store, the Irish version of Aldi's.  Very cheap.  Adequate.  Their pear yoghurt is lovely.

The cliffs west of Dingle, along the Slea Head Drive, are also magnificent, with many islands visible in the distance.  Getting down to the beaches is no easy task, taken in first gear for engine breaking going down and for enough power for a strong grade in the road coming back up.   The waves though bang into the cliffs with bubbling foam.  Very grand.  At the top, where the road runs, the fields are checkerboard with rock walls, like New England, and back up into the hills where they are covered with brown scrub, burned to grow green, as the spring begins, to feed the sheep. 

And then we headed to Dingle for coffee at An Cupán Tae, where the owner does not speak Gaelic despite the name, but serves lovely Spanish style coffee just the same, of which she was duly proud.  The young barista comes from Bulgaria.  



Dingle still has a fishing fleet, with some boats tied up at the pier, and masses of nets available.  Fish is regularly offered for sale by the side of the road, as were fresh carrots and cabbages.  A bit early for most other vegetables.

There is a large population of Eastern Europeans here:  our hotel waiter, and I think some of the staff, is from Lithuania, another waiter in Kilkenny was Slovakian.  And they are in no hurry to go back East, already acclimatized to Ireland's weather.  We ran into Lithuanian, Polish, German and South African tourists today.  No Americans or Canadians.

Tonight a meal at the Bianconi and perhaps music at a local pub, the Kingdom.

The Gap of Dunloe

Today was the Gap of Dunloe.  It's a must see, sort of like seeing Old Faithful or the Grand Canyon.  Quite impressive, and fun because you get the patter of an Irish carter who drives you up the Gap, a glacial valley created millions of years ago, at a slow pace with a moody horse.  That Donny (pronounced Dawnee) had ventured to America a few years ago made it more interesting.  Of all places, he went to Hanalei Bay on Kaua'i!  He promiseds a refund if it rained--of course he meant Irish rain, not Irish drizzle or mist, which we did "enjoy".  It's all quite hokey, but lots of fun.  

Then we had a run up the hill past Killarney to see the lakes in the region from a high vantage point.  Once again, we took a picture, but munched on our bananas and spooned our luncheon yoghurt as the rains came and went.  We found suitable coffee at Lir Café in downtown Killarney, looked around the town founded in the days of Queen Elizabeth, and then back to the hotel, feeling we had filled the day enough.  Tonight we will enjoy tapas at a local restaurant in a desanctified church here in Killorglin.

Killorglin, the Reeks, the Ring and the Rain

Killorglin is just west, by about ten miles, from Killarney, the main Kerry tourist resort, so it is a good bit quieter.  Nestled near mountains and about an hour from the actual ocean, we figured it was a central spot.   The hotel, the Balconi, is an old building but the insides are sleek and modern, with excellent accomodation, though the wifi system does not operate in the rooms.   

The food, which we had on Wednesday night, is excellent.  Ben enjoyed a seafood chowder, full of local seafood in a creamy soup, as a starter, which John went for a good vegetable soup.  He continued with a lamb stew, which was served with boiled Irish potatoes.   Ben had a pièce de résistance with his main:   a nut non-meat loaf surrounded with a red pepper purée.  No dessert.  

Yesterday it started to rain, at times very hard, and at times nothing at all, which we have learned is quite Irish.   It pours, stops, pours, drizzles, stops, sun comes out, goes back in, clouds turn dark, then light, then drizzle, then pours, then ...  etc.   Let's face it you are damp a good bit.

Yesterday morning, we drove over the mountains south Killorglin to the south side of the Ring of Kerry first.  It's a harrowing drive in some respects, since many of the roads are literally one lane wide, with openings allowing you to pull in when you meet another car coming the other way.  The fact that there are few cars coming at you at this time (non tourist season) doesn't make meeting a truck any less worrisome.  Sometimes you have to back up to the next opening to allow the truck by.  

But the mountains are lovely, and when the sun comes out (infrequently) they provide beauitful vistas.  We actually saw two rainbows (Finian's?) one of which was full.  But no pot of gold.  Often, though, the vistas include ruined farm houses, many approaching two hundred years old, or more, where people left to go abroad in troubled times.   They are still leaving, with many of the natives, and the immigrants too, muttering and expounding on the economic situation. 

The most impressive vistas are along the coast.  We followed one little road, a lane, from the main highway to the very end.   At that point we could see the waves crashing on the cliffs and rocks below and small islands in the distance.  We stopped to talk to one of the people going into a house overlooking the view of Scarff and other smaller islands:  The owner, he claimed it was the best in Ireland, warm (there are palmettos around here) and a beautiful place to summer.  He lives in Galway, up the coast a ways, coming south to his country house.  

The views of the Skelly Islands further south are equally impressive.  Regrettably the puffin birds near Portmagee flying from their nests on the sides of the cliffs moved too quickly to photograph, but they zoom around in the air, almost playfully.

We passed through many towns, and of course Ben found (really John found) a coffee shop where Ben trained the owner, Helen, in how to make his XX dry cappuccino.  

Economically, Ireland looks OK on the surface, with Audis and other upscale cars in evidence, motorways beautiful,  but the locals often report "Ireland has no future" and even the radio programs say it will be years before the country is truly back on its feet.  And the prices:  restaurant meals are quoted in prices where the numbers are the same, but they are in euros--that's 30 percent more in cost than in US dollars.  And gasoline:  John figures that at €1.60 euros to the liter that makes it about $8 per gallon!

Last night we decided to explore the eating scene here in the village.  Not a large number of restaurants but we found a rather sweet Chinese place, apparently owned by Fujian people.  The waitress and chef, she said, were both from Fujian (southeastern coast of China, north of Hong Kong, south of Shanghai, across the straits from Taiwan).  The food was different from most Chinese food we have had, sweeter, but enjoyable.  Served in iron bowls poured on to very hot skillets to keep it warm.   Lamb with ginger and garlic, chicken in spices, though not as hot of kungpao, and served mostly with sliced vegetables.   The Dream Chinese Restaurant.  

Today the weather looks better.   Perhaps the Gap of Dunloe.

Towers and Castles

Today we began to tour the southern part of Ireland.   We enjoyed our breakfast at Jacob’s Well, the BnB in Rathdrum.   Ben had homemade porridge, cooked overnight, that he thought was grand.  John enjoyed an Irish breakfast of eggs, bacon, tomato and local sausage, more like a blood pudding.  The place is very good and very comfy.

Our first stop was a statue of Charles Parnell, the uncrowned king of Ireland, they said, in the 19th century.  Unfortunately he died before he could work out Irish independence, and the next few decades were rather nasty.   He’s from Rathdrum. 

From there it was to the old monastic settlement at Glendalough, pronounced Glenda Loch, as if it were two words.  This set of ruins dates from the days of St. Kevin, about 650-700 CE, when he was a  bit mad and lived in a tree, as much as John can figure.  Anyway, a number of other ascetics thought it would be fun, we guess, to live in trees and practice Christianity, so they joined him and the settlement grew to be quite large.  Estimates are that there may have been 3000 people living the valley.  The monastery continued for many hundreds of years but now is ruins.  

The tall circular tower is supposed to have served as a watch tower, storage silo and place of refuge when invaders arrived.  The monks climbed up the ladder to the high entrance, went inside and pulled up the ladder to save themselves and whoever joined them from rape, pillage and death.  Of course what did they do for water and conveniences.  We’ll never know.

The walk around the lakes is lovely, very reminiscent of the Lake District in England, though the countryside is softer, much more mossy and treed, and much less harsh.

Up above Glendalough the scenery changes quickly and the area becomes a district of bare stone, above the trees, and desolate.  Quite a difference in a few hundred meters of height.

From there we moved onwards to Kilkenny where we have spent the afternoon, enjoying this small medieval town.  We toured the castle that dates from the 10th century, though most of the remains you see are much younger.  In the 19th century it was home to the Butler family, Royals were entertained and it was very posh.  The Butlers gave it to Kilkenny for 50 pounds in 1967 and since then the town and Irish government have restored it to palace level.  It’s very grand and the city if rightfully proud of it.   A quick nip into the Irish Design Center across the street netted some goodies and tonight we dine at Zuni, a locavore kind of place and perhaps will do some Irish music at Matt the Millers pub afterwards.   John has never been a fan of Irish music, but perhaps this will train him otherwise.   Will Ben have a glass of ale?  

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Dinner at Zuni was superb.   The dining room was quiet, though we figured the assembled diners were from Ireland, of course, but also America (us and the guy at the adjacent table) and at least one Aussie.  We had a gamay from Touraine, which we were told was a light wine--it wasn’t, but that was just fine, it had good essences of fruit, and a dash of chocolate.   The starters were just grand.  Ben had a beetroot  and onion tart tatin, a layer of pastry surmounted by warm grated beets and then a fluff of goat cheese on the top.  John began with a trout scotch egg--shredded trout, lightly molded with a binder, probably mayonnaise, around a quail egg, then breaded and quickly deep fried so the egg was just soft boiled inside.  Small slivers of pickled cucumber and a dash of salmon caviar finished the dish off...as did John.

The mains were also complicated but not precious.   Ben had sautéed scallops on a bed of breaded squid and below that a shredded greens and carrots.  Very nicely done. John had a collection of pork pieces:  a piece of beautifully done pork filet, a couple of slices of pancetta and a piece of melt-in-your-mouth pork belly basted with five spice powder.  Broccolini, carrot purée and a roast potato made up this (sort of Irish) medley.   We did not do dessert.

Then, as noted above, we went to one of the local pubs on the river, a huge building called Matt the Millers, where John enjoyed a Smithwicks, while Ben and he watched the Kilkenny Brothers, a very good Irish band, doing modern stuff, some old stuff, and a an Irish flute solo by the lead singer.  Lots of fun too watching young Iberians from Spain and Portugal enjoy the Irish crowd dancing a bit to the music.

Today it is off to Killorglin.