The forecast warned of rain for my proposed day trip to the middle Aran Island of Inis Meain, but one of the staff of the Radisson Blu in Galway city advised me that the island comes into its own during the rain and that I would see for myself just what he meant. The Aer Arann minibus brought me from the city centre to Connemara Airport where I boarded a fully laden Isalnder aircraft which I was told was bound for Inis Mor, the largest of the islands. I argued that I wanted to go to Inis Meain and the staff advised me that the pilot would make a special diversion to drop me there later. I was disappointed to be in the very back seat. In my early 20s I flew light aircraft as a hobby until I was forced to give up on grounds of poor eyesight, and I remain fascinated by aircraft and like to be as near the action as possible. I envied the girl who got the "co-pilot's seat" up front. The wind was slightly lively and gave up a few false lift ups on our take-off from Connemara. Skies were grey and uninteresting. 10 minutes later we touched down on Inis Mor to unload the rest of the human and other cargo, and on board stepped two elderly gentlemen, islanders on their way to Galway. "We're going ilsnad hopping again, Kevin?" they asked the pilot. Take off from Inis Mor is always interesting as the aircraft lifts off at the point where the short runway dips down sharply. I got out at Inis Meain, expecting to be met by local men trying to tout their pony and trap service. But this island, middle in size but smallest by poulation, doesn't just do the touristy thing. There are no craft shops selling local wares, no transport services at all. I was offered a lift by the airstrip staff but I had come to walk the day for a day. I had been to Inis Mor and Inis Oirr, the smallest island, previously, so Inis Meain remained on my island agenda. The first thing that struck me was the sheer amount of grey limestone karts with its clefts and grykes. The area between the airport and the main housing area is flat and grey and unfertile, but interesting. Lots of wild orchids, primrose and other flora thrive in the area between the flat slab rocks and by the roadside. There is an amazing stillness and silence you dont quite get on the other Aran Islands, punctuated only by birdsong and the very odd car. Lichen stained drystone walls demarcate fields of poor soil and fields of no soil at all. The main pier and a silvery white beach lie at the eastern shore. On a warm summers day one could enjoy a nice swim here. In the north-east, near the airstrip, a most unusual beach of silvery-black sand curves in a convex fashion around sand dunes studded with yellow marram grass. I explored the roads around the main village area, traversing the island from east to west in a linear fashion. I saw Synge's thatched cottage, but it was not open this Easter Sunday. Behind another thatched house I met two very friendly and prosperous looking hens who were obviously looking for food, but they allowed me to pet their backs as if they were dogs. I met some friendly islanders too, who greeted me in the Irish language, which is spoken as a fisrt language here and deginitely not just for the tourists. One small shop serves the island and acts as the post office too. A church contains some really beautiful Harry Clarke stained glass windows. Some ancient churches lie in ruins, plus the odd megalithic tomb such as the "grave of Diarmuid and Grainne". Two forts dominate the hilltop area, the bigger being Conor's Fort, and most impressive it is. The walk all the high placed village area affords great views of the grey northern plane, as well as of the two other Aran Isalnds. My feet sore, my throat thirsty, I wandered into the cosy island pub for a Coca Cola. A fire was blazing at the end, and folk bantered away in Irish as a rugby match was playing on the television. When I emerged from the pub it was raining, and I soon saw exactly what the man in the hotel meant. The grey flat slabs of rock took on the appearance of big chunks of ice, refelecting as they did everything which stoodupright behind them... houses, walls, telegraph poles, animals. In places it looked like masses of flooded ponds, but this was all an optical illusion. The wind started stirring up as the rain got worse, but I had seen what I needed to, and was on my way back to the airstrip. I watched as the Islander wobbled its way down to the runway in the unsteady air. A couple of folk disembarked as I stepped on board. Two people were still on board, headed for Inis Oirr. This service was feeling ever more like that of the 14 bus. Three minutes bouncing through the murky air brought us to Inis Oirr where a further exchange of passengers resulted in a full load. The heavier cargo made for a much smoother ride to Connemara Airport. The bus back to Galway city had to make the journey specially for me as there was no one else on board, and the driver and myself enjoyed a really nice chat about all things aviatorial.
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Monday 9 April 2012
Monday 2 April 2012
My weekend in Venice 2012
My 3 night trip to Venice was remarkable for the fact that the splendid
weather was exactly the same as that in Dublin. However the Venetians
are concerened about the lack of snow in the mountains as it means that
the prognosis for a decent vegetable crop is very poor, and this will
badly affect the restaurants into the summer. I was amazed at the way
the locals were dressed in furs and other heavy clothes in the warm
weather, where the Irish are almost dressed for the beach!
I flew over with Aer Lingus to Marco Polo airport, and returned from the more distant Treviso with Ryanair. The timings of the flights suited the annual leave left available to me. I found the bus connections easy to/from both airports, although the trip to Treviso is that little bit longer. On my way into the city I though the bus had broken down as it slowed almost to a halt without obvious good reason. Then I saw a sign for the 30kph speed limit through a village. Everybody obeyed this speed limit, contrary to the reputation of Italian drivers. It was obvious that the Venetians are a very law abiding lot. The local crime rate is extremely low, and on the vaparetto water buses the seats dediacted to the elderly, disabled and pregnant remained empty in spite of the hordes on boarding standing in a crush.
Finding my accommodation at the historic and fairly priced 2 star hotel Al Ponte Mocenigo was some feat, and I failed miserably. I got the vaparetto from Piazzale Roma to the San Stae stop, and followed instructions to get to the premises. I ended up in circles, asking people who helpfully obliged in giving me directions. I kept missing the hotel, there was no sign of it down the myriad alleyways and across the many little bridges. A couple took pity on me as I sat exhausted on some steps with my suitcase and offered to help me. I phoned the hotel, and the manager came out to where I was sitting and brought me down an incredibly narrow alleyway to the hotel. A tiny brass lionhead beside the door had the name embossed, and the lion's nose was the doorbell. My bedroom was in an annex around the corner. It was well sized and a Murano glass chandeleier hung from the old beams in the ceiling, but there was only one tiny window giving me the sense of being in jail. It was a great, safe and quiet location.
Single vaparetto journeys are very expensive, so I bought a better value 72 hour pass, which covered me for all my trip. After settling into my room I took the vaparetto to Lido, the seaside island where Mum stayed when she was in her early 20s. She told me how 2 40 year old sisters from her work place, British Rail, asked could they join her for the holiday. Those sisters seemed ancient to her and they wore thick heavy stockings on the beach at the Lido, which mortified her! I had to make the pilgrimmage to that beach with those stories in my head. I smiled as I walked on Lido beach and waded into the shallow warm water which Mum spoke about. It reminded me of Dollymount, but with some posh hotels in the background.
The cheapest and nicest meal I enjoyed in Venice was the one nearest to my hotel, and had no name. I had to book a table in advance and had it for the night, with one single waiter dancing attention to everyone. My choice was grilled gilthead fish with potatoes and salad, my favourite dish of all time. Everywhere I went the coffee was superb, but varied in price from 80cent to €4! The latter price was in the Doges Palace, and not surprisingly the cafe was empty.
I really enjoyed the water buses, even though at times they could get very crowded, but everyone on board behaved in a very civilised manner. Dogs are popular everywhere, and I met a local pilot bringing the beautiful Pharoah Hound to work with him on a boat to the airport. The follwoing morning after I arrived I caught the vaparetto to San Marco and visited the San Marco Basilica and its Treasury, and then the Doges Palace. In the middle of my visit to the latter my phone calendar reminder rang the alarm that I was due to go on the Venetian Islands tour by boat. I had to cut short my visit and "rush" (vaparettos dont rush!) back to my hotel to retrieve the voucher out of the safe.I had mistaken the day of the excursion. I arrived at the departure point near San Marco just in time to join the beautiful excursion to Murano, Burano and Torcello. On Murano I saw a glass blower at work, on peaceful Torcello I visited the oldest basilica in Venice, and Burano proved to be the most beautiful and colorful settlement in the lagoon.
On my final day I largely took to my feet walking the various regions of the city from Dorsoduro to Canaregio where I visited the Jewish Ghetto area and had a kosher meal. In my ignorance I thought this was merely a historic Jewish area, but I could see how thriving the present Jewish community is, with its cake shops, restaurants, art and craft shops and of course synagogues. There were Jewish people everywhere, enjoying their happy peacfeul lives here. I walked the main throughfare of Venice and crossed the wooden Academia bridge, routing back through many pretty alleyways and piazzas back to my hotel. It was a real challenge finding my way back without getting too lost. Venice is the most fascinating maze in the world and one must come armed with a lot of patience!
The Venice Photo Album
I flew over with Aer Lingus to Marco Polo airport, and returned from the more distant Treviso with Ryanair. The timings of the flights suited the annual leave left available to me. I found the bus connections easy to/from both airports, although the trip to Treviso is that little bit longer. On my way into the city I though the bus had broken down as it slowed almost to a halt without obvious good reason. Then I saw a sign for the 30kph speed limit through a village. Everybody obeyed this speed limit, contrary to the reputation of Italian drivers. It was obvious that the Venetians are a very law abiding lot. The local crime rate is extremely low, and on the vaparetto water buses the seats dediacted to the elderly, disabled and pregnant remained empty in spite of the hordes on boarding standing in a crush.
Finding my accommodation at the historic and fairly priced 2 star hotel Al Ponte Mocenigo was some feat, and I failed miserably. I got the vaparetto from Piazzale Roma to the San Stae stop, and followed instructions to get to the premises. I ended up in circles, asking people who helpfully obliged in giving me directions. I kept missing the hotel, there was no sign of it down the myriad alleyways and across the many little bridges. A couple took pity on me as I sat exhausted on some steps with my suitcase and offered to help me. I phoned the hotel, and the manager came out to where I was sitting and brought me down an incredibly narrow alleyway to the hotel. A tiny brass lionhead beside the door had the name embossed, and the lion's nose was the doorbell. My bedroom was in an annex around the corner. It was well sized and a Murano glass chandeleier hung from the old beams in the ceiling, but there was only one tiny window giving me the sense of being in jail. It was a great, safe and quiet location.
Single vaparetto journeys are very expensive, so I bought a better value 72 hour pass, which covered me for all my trip. After settling into my room I took the vaparetto to Lido, the seaside island where Mum stayed when she was in her early 20s. She told me how 2 40 year old sisters from her work place, British Rail, asked could they join her for the holiday. Those sisters seemed ancient to her and they wore thick heavy stockings on the beach at the Lido, which mortified her! I had to make the pilgrimmage to that beach with those stories in my head. I smiled as I walked on Lido beach and waded into the shallow warm water which Mum spoke about. It reminded me of Dollymount, but with some posh hotels in the background.
The cheapest and nicest meal I enjoyed in Venice was the one nearest to my hotel, and had no name. I had to book a table in advance and had it for the night, with one single waiter dancing attention to everyone. My choice was grilled gilthead fish with potatoes and salad, my favourite dish of all time. Everywhere I went the coffee was superb, but varied in price from 80cent to €4! The latter price was in the Doges Palace, and not surprisingly the cafe was empty.
I really enjoyed the water buses, even though at times they could get very crowded, but everyone on board behaved in a very civilised manner. Dogs are popular everywhere, and I met a local pilot bringing the beautiful Pharoah Hound to work with him on a boat to the airport. The follwoing morning after I arrived I caught the vaparetto to San Marco and visited the San Marco Basilica and its Treasury, and then the Doges Palace. In the middle of my visit to the latter my phone calendar reminder rang the alarm that I was due to go on the Venetian Islands tour by boat. I had to cut short my visit and "rush" (vaparettos dont rush!) back to my hotel to retrieve the voucher out of the safe.I had mistaken the day of the excursion. I arrived at the departure point near San Marco just in time to join the beautiful excursion to Murano, Burano and Torcello. On Murano I saw a glass blower at work, on peaceful Torcello I visited the oldest basilica in Venice, and Burano proved to be the most beautiful and colorful settlement in the lagoon.
On my final day I largely took to my feet walking the various regions of the city from Dorsoduro to Canaregio where I visited the Jewish Ghetto area and had a kosher meal. In my ignorance I thought this was merely a historic Jewish area, but I could see how thriving the present Jewish community is, with its cake shops, restaurants, art and craft shops and of course synagogues. There were Jewish people everywhere, enjoying their happy peacfeul lives here. I walked the main throughfare of Venice and crossed the wooden Academia bridge, routing back through many pretty alleyways and piazzas back to my hotel. It was a real challenge finding my way back without getting too lost. Venice is the most fascinating maze in the world and one must come armed with a lot of patience!
The Venice Photo Album
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