Friday, 24 August 2012

Pig Peninsula




This is Silvia. She was on reception when we booked out this morning. Outside was a light drizzle and an overcast morning. Woodsie asked her if the weather was likely to clear today.

Silvia said, "No. I'm not going to lie to you. No it won't."

She told us she has three children, "5 year old twins and a 3 year old lunatic." Her kids are so sick of their wet summer they have asked when they can go back to school!!!

We headed west from Cork towards Killarney, to visit Muckross House and Traditional Farms. Along the way wife saw some buildings of most amazing colours. Being a rather dull day today, their colours were so bright in the misty rain.













I think they looked wonderful. Particularly when there is a row of similar buildings, all with common walls, the vibrant colours give each dwelling or business its own bright, individual identity.

There were the usual narrow country lanes to negotiate again. At times, they were so narrow, Rob actually braked to a stop, to allow an oncoming car to squeeze past. And we are driving in summer. How we would cope on a foggy, raining winter day, I have no idea!!!




There is a grand, sweeping driveway to the car park at Muckross. Apparently, "muck" means PIG and the Irish word for a peninsula is ROSS. We had lunch in the glass conservatory area of their Visitor Centre, overlooking green lawns and colourful flower beds.


Next we began the two mile walk around the farms. First was a small size farm. In each of the three, the real highlight is the Irish woman working there, who explains what life was like for the house inhabitants in the 1920s and 1930s. Life was not easy, but the family in this first small farm was basically self sufficient. Money from extra vegetables, eggs or dead crooks paid for flour, etc. Any spare money purchased luxuries like Delft china, displayed to show how well they were doing. Cooking and heating water was done over an open fire, so even in summer, the fire would need to be lit.





The roof was thatched, and doorways and windows were small, to keep in the heat.


Woodsie was particularly interested in "peat" known as "turf" in Ireland. Each farm had a supply undercover near the house.


The next we saw was a labourer's cottage. It was really small and had a sleeping loft, a tiny bedroom and the one main room. Even the main room was half the size of the living/kitchen area of the small farm's house.




Further down the lane we saw the medium size farm. These people were really doing well in life. The out buildings were not attached to their dwelling. The farm house had many rooms, not just two or three. They cooked on a range, and had several bedrooms, a dining room and a drawing room. Plus the house was coloured yellow, as a display of wealth. Only the well to do could afford to add ochre to their whitewash!














Apart from the women explaining day to day life, the farm came alive with the animals. The medium size farm, being the wealthiest, had the most. But each home had chooks roaming free about the yard.







Muckross House, which once owned 11,000 surrounding acres, was a large rambling building over three floors. It has only had a few owners, but its main claim seems to be having hosted Queen Victoria and Prince Albert for two nights. The owners spent a packet, planning over six years for this visit. Special furniture was commissioned from Italy, France and local craftsmen. They were angling for a title from the Queen, plus more land. Gardens were landscaped, a barge brought over from London for the Royal party to sail around the lake.

Poor sods! Their meticulous and costly efforts were in vain. Shortly after her return to England, Victoria's beloved Albert curled up his toes and she forgot all about his family and their aspirations ... and went into mourning!

The house was last purchased by a wealthy American family as a wedding gift for their daughter, who was marrying a local lad. But when she caught pneumonia and died in her 40s, the property was given to the people of Ireland.

No photos were allowed inside, to preserve the furniture and fittings. 70% is original to the house, which is very unusual in a Heritage owned property.


I didn't get a good photo of the front, as there was a whopping Heritage Week tent in the way (exasperated sigh!) plus there was light drizzle too. Below is just one side of this enormous home, which at its peak, had twenty servants to run it. We saw one corridor which had a long line of different sized bells, connected to the many rooms. Each bell had its own sound, and only the few main rooms had labels under them. This is because most of the servants would have been illiterate anyway and could identify which room required them by the sound alone.




We headed up in a north east direction, to arrive in Limerick.

There once was a man named Rob,
Who worked in a bank for his job.
Because he was thrifty,
When he turned sixty,
Over to Ireland he could lob.

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