"Ireland: A Country Steeped In Tradition, History."

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Irish Holiday reawakens childhood memories

By Carol McLeod

Published in the St Marys Journal Argus, February 3, 1999

A Sort of Homecoming

Last July my husband, daughter and I went on a trip to Ireland on our belated ‘honeymoon’ with baby in tow! I moved to Canada from Dublin almost 10 years ago with my parents and brothers, so all of my family is in Ireland. I was looking forward to seeing it through my husband’s eyes, who has never been to Ireland before. It was fun to note his first impressions as we left the airport; he remarked on how small everything was, from the roads to the cars to the houses. Everything was tightly packed in, understandable when you think of how small a country it is.

We arrived at my grandparent’s house, my four-month-old daughter eager to make her debut as the first great-grandchild. It’s strange how certain sounds stick in your head from childhood; the sound of a squeaky gate, iron grating against iron, or a creaking top stair, silly, yet familiar things that ignite intense feelings of homesickness whenever I think of them. When we got out of the taxi I opened the gate, glad to hear it sound once again and ready to immerse myself into the sensory experience of the sounds, smells, and sights of Ireland.

Irishisms

One of the first things my husband noticed that I didn’t so much were the infamous Irish speech patterns. Much laughter was had at my grandmother’s expense for her statement of disbelief, “Ah, go ‘way!” However, it proved itself infectious as by the end of our holiday my husband was also using the phrase! A saying that I myself use a lot much to the confusion of my husband is the phrase “Look at your man over there.” My husband frantically looks over his shoulder for ‘his man’, when in actual fact ‘your man’ is a generic term for any ‘young fella’ you do not know.

One of the more famous Irishisms is the term “it was great craic” (pronounced ‘crack’). This refers to the general atmosphere, e.g., “It was great fun”, and is a word that would be taken differently anywhere except Ireland. Another famous irishisms is the word ‘grand’. Everything is ‘grand’. The cashier will say “grand” instead of “you’re welcome” after you buy something. It is used in Ireland for almost every predicament. We heard a story about an elderly gentleman who came into a Dublin chiropractic office, doubled over in excruciating pain. When asked, “How are you today, Mr Malone?” he responds, “Ah, sure I’m grand, yourself?”

Summer in Ireland

Ireland is renowned for its damp climate. Our guide book referred to the climate as ‘soft weather’. However soft it might be, it is usually a good idea to carry an umbrella whenever you go out. The lush green grass arose feelings of envy in me when I thought about our patches of lush green weeds amongst a sea of dead brown grass back home in Canada. Even said, there is usually a brief ‘heat wave’ in the summer where for a few weeks the sun will find its way through the clouds and the temperature will rise above 20 degrees. Not last summer, however! Before we left Canada my husband and I were checking the weather on the internet daily, to find to our dismay that it had rained for 40 consecutive days. Rain in Ireland is an inevitable force of nature. However, during the summer a rain shower will usually be over in a matter of minutes. Whenever I fly into Dublin Airport there is always a heavy blanket of clouds in the sky, but once you descend through them you see the reason Ireland is known as the Emerald Isle.

When in Rome

A trip to Ireland is not complete unless you sample some of the Black Stuff, or Guinness. My husband was really looking forward to having an authentic Irish pint in many authentic Irish pubs. We were told that the best place in Dublin to get a pint was in a pub called Martin’s, conveniently located just around the corner from my grandparents house. On our first night in Dublin we went around to this pub with my cousin and his girlfriend, and I was introduced to the world of Guinness. It is definitely an acquired taste, as it is a lot heavier than a regular lager. Some women prefer to have a dash of blackcurrant cordial in it to take the bite away. True nectar of the (Irish) gods! My husband set out on a personal quest to find the perfect pint, and after having sampled some of Dublin’s finest he kept coming back to Martin’s! The art of pouring a pint is extremely important to the Guinness connoisseur, as it can make or break one’s enjoyment of the pint, and therefore, logically, one’s opinion of the establishment from whence it came. Once the pint is drawn, the bartender lets it sit for a few minutes to allow the cream to separate and rise to the top. He then tops it up. Any excess cream that rises above the rim of the glass is skimmed off by the barman. However, occasionally this cap of foam or ‘Bishop’s Cap” will go unnoticed by the busy barman, much to the annoyance of the punter who thinks he has been scammed out of a half-ounce of his nectar.

History and Culture

One of the most noticeable things about Dublin for visitors from Canada and the U.S. is the deep-rooted history and culture that emanates from everything. From the Georgian architecture of the city’s buildings, to the ancient castles and ruins dotted throughout the landscape, one cannot visit Ireland without having a sense of awe at your surroundings. A few miles north of Dublin, in Slane, lay the ruins of Tara Castle, where the ancient high kings of Ireland once ruled from. Even Dublin Castle, a more recent structure, has a background well-rooted in the history of the Irish people. It was commissioned in 1204 by King John of England, who after conquering Dublin needed a place to store his treasures. Dublin Castle remained the centre of British rule in Ireland for many centuries, therefore becoming the symbol of alien domination in the eyes of the Irish people. On our tour through Dublin Castle we went underground to the remains of one of the old towers. We were able to see the foundations of the Norman structure, and below it was an even earlier foundation that dates back to the time of the Vikings, the first invaders to settle in Ireland. The best part of the tour of the castle, for me, was not a part of the regular tour, and was more personal in nature. We walked around the back, up past the gardens to a modest-sized red brick house that boasts an awesome view of the Castle grounds. My grandmother grew up in this house, her father being the caretaker of Dublin Castle for about 30 years. My aunt remembers visiting as a child, and her grandfather letting them sit on the throne! The house is now made into offices, but we were able to walk through it. We had all thought the house had been torn down years ago so it was a nice surprise to see it still standing, imagining its rooms alive with the sounds of children’s laughter from so many years ago.

The Green Green Grass of Home

Another striking thing that you will notice while in Dublin is the proximity of the mountains. A quick glance south and one can see the majestic Dublin-Wicklow mountains, small by European standards but a treat for someone living in prairie-like southern Ontario. We took a drive through the mountains one day en route to Glendalough. Canadians traveling in Ireland will quickly notice how small the roads are, hence the reason for small cars. The winding mountain roads are even smaller, so imagine our surprise (and fear!) when a tour bus decided to take the scenic route down the mountain as we were heading up. We pulled over as far as we could, with a steep cliff on one side and a coach on the other. The only inhabitants in the mountains were sheep, and amazingly enough they were not fenced in, and were ambling around the mountain roads as if they owned the place. We were waiting to have one jump out in front of our car, but it seemed the sheep were seasoned veterans. Once we got high enough the view was spectacular, we could see Dublin city and all the small towns stretching out from it, and we could also see the ocean.

In Dublin’s Fair City

The next day we went into downtown Dublin city. We got off the bus at the Quays, on the banks of the river Liffey. We had a brief walk up Ormond Quay to the Ha’Penny bridge, so called due to the toll imposed in order to cross it in olden days. It was built in 1816 and is the only footbridge across the Liffey. Once we crossed the bridge we went through a large archway called ‘Merchant’s Arch’, a narrow pedestrian street that leads you into Dublin’s cultural centre, Temple Bar. This area has been revitalized over the last nine years and boasts oodles of cafes, bars, restaurants, galleries, and shops. The cobblestoned streets were torture to push a stroller on, but surprisingly the motion sent my daughter to sleep. I heard that scenes from the Tom Cruise movie ‘Far and Away’ were filmed in Temple Bar due to the older looking buildings and the cobblestoned streets. At the entrance to Grafton Street, one of the most famous shopping areas in Dublin, stands a very famous lady, the statue of Molly Malone. Everyone knows the sad lament of the lovely fishmonger, and to commemorate her they erected a statue in her honour some years back. We received a replica of the statue as a wedding gift. However, like some other statues in Dublin, this one has received a nickname. Due to her rather revealing bodice, she is known as the ‘Tart with the Cart’. Leave it to the Irish humour! Another famous Irish woman Anna Livia (from whence the river Liffey got its name) has also had the honor of having a statue erected in her honour. She sits in the middle of O’Connell Street in a shallow pool, with water cascading down her shoulders, therefore being aptly named ‘The Floozy in the Jacuzzi’.

In all, we spent ten wonderful days in Dublin visiting with family and friends, seeing the sights, and taking it all in. This was my third trip home since we moved to Canada ten years ago, and this time I definitely felt like a tourist! I like to think that I have two homes, when I’m here in Canada I refer to Ireland as ‘back home’. When I’m in Ireland I refer to Canada as ‘home’. Caught between my ties to my family and childhood memories in Ireland, and to my new life and new friends and family in Canada, I suffer from a condition common amongst all immigrants the world over. My love for history comes from growing up in a country steeped in culture and tradition, and I hope my daughter grows up with a curiosity about the world around her and her place in it. Till then, I will keep her aware of her different cultural heritages that so many of us possess in one way or another.