The grounds also had typical buildings from the 19th century, with fishermen's cottages, a doctor's house, school, various village shops, farm houses and outbuildings.
Arriving in the medieval city of Galway, we followed the GPS in a frustrating series of turns around the narrow streets. At one point, we were halted by an incoming crowd, behind a 'Galway Community Pride' banner. The Gay Pride marchers surged past, all signs, rainbows, drums and whistles.
Later we saw several young women, police nearby, with protest signs like 'Keep Your Policies Off My Ovaries". Irish women are still campaigning for the right to abortion. Just past them, two old women tried to push a pamphlet into my hand.
"We're trying to keep abortion out of Ireland."
I would not take it!
I'd lost a nose pad from my specs. In the optometrist, the friendly girl was from Tipperary. I told her 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary' was one of the few songs my Dad would sing to us as kids. With Irish logic, she said, "It's not far. It's only an hour down the road."
That afternoon dozens of noisy, high revving bikies rode into town, several police units following them, and all parked alongside Eyre Square. I asked one older grey bearded biker what it was all about.
"We're doing a raid on Galway tonight!". Then he broke into a smile. "It is an annual charity run. Last year it was for Alzheimer's (he paused) I think. Dis year is (another pause) I forget. No, no, it's Make a Wish."
The Irish we have encountered are polite and love a joke. Like the Policeman we spoke to who was patrolling through the crowded medieval streets in the Latin Quarter. We were wondering if it was always this busy on a Saturday.
"Oh aye. Mind you, the sunshine always brings them all out, just like cockroaches."
Our hotel was right beside the river, which flows along at a really fast pace. Every 20 metres beside the river there was a box housing a buoy attached by a long rope, with the stern message - a stolen buoy is a stolen life. Every box we passed was complete with rescue buoy.
Galway, in the 1600s, had Mr. Lynch as Mayor and Magistrate. Lynch's son was found guilty of murdering a Spaniard caring for the family. Lynch hanged his own son from a window of his house, now just a ruin.
From this act, the English language gained LYNCH and LYNCH MOB.
We saw a young musician playing this strange (to us) instrument. She seemed to squeeze a bagpipe under her arm, while her fingers danced along the air holes of a recorder. We chose not to purchase her CD.
Below is the photo from our hotel window, out over the beer garden, over the river to the buildings on the opposite bank.
Not bad, eh?
From memory Rob and the Tom Tom came to blows in Galway too - and he had two hysterical females in the car also telling him what to do. The Tom Tom was very 'Irish' at times. Ooo that river in Galway is a fast flowing one indeed. Would not like to fall in there. We saw Finbar Fury down here last year - famous lead singer of the Irish Group - The Furies. He played one of those instruments and it was quite fascinating. He apparently is the master of it. A bit of trivia for you.
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