Bike Riding on Inishmore
Inishmore (Inis Mór in Gaelic) of the Aran Islands: The only way to reach Inishmore is by ferry and only residents are allowed to have automobiles on the island. Transportation is by bicycle or horse-drawn "jaunting carts."
Our Comments: The Aran Islands are one of the largest outposts of the ancient Celtic language, so much so that Penny couldn't manage to communicate with one of the cart drivers at all. The day we spent mountain biking from one end of the 10-mile, mountainous island to the other left us happy, but with very sore bottoms! The tourist brochure said is was a 30 minute bike ride to Dún Aonghus -- yeah, right. Several hours and a few mountains later we decided the Irish have a different timekeeping system than we do. Or at least they are in a heck of a lot better shape than we are.
Jaunting Cart with Martin
Aran Sweaters: Inishmore is world-renowned as the birthplace of the Aran sweater. The different stitches were invented by generations of Irish women and each family had its own distinct pattern. So much so that the sweater patterns were used to identify the clan of drowned fisherman when they washed ashore.
Our Comments: The Aran Sweater Market is a mecca for sweater lovers. After biking the island all day, we reached the market at 4:50 pm, only to be told at first that the market closed at 5 pm and would not reopen the next morning until well after our ferry left for the mainland. After a brief moment of panic, Penny focused and shifted into "power-shop" mode. It was hilarious! At first, Jeff kept distracting her by pointing out sweaters she might like, but then he quickly realized it was best to leave her alone to do what she does best. She did well: five sweaters later she found out that the market would stay open until 5:30, so she was able to relax at least a bit.
Dún Aonghus: One of the finest prehistoric fortresses in Western Europe, Dun Aonghus was built around 2000 B.C. It consists of three dry-stone ramparts and the remains of a fourth, the outermost of which encloses an area of 11 acres. Outside the second rampart, there is a 30-foot ring of upright stones forming a defensive band of "chevaux de fries." It's tradition to crawl out to the edge of the 800-foot cliff to have your picture taken, which, of course, we were crazy enough to do. Marge took our picture, then urged -- no, she pushed -- a shy young Japanese couple into crawling out to the edge. I'm sure they went home telling tales about this "clazy Amalican lady" who made them risk their lives for a good photo.
That Afternoon: We took a horse cart ride, which provided us the opportunity to chat with Martin, a delightful young Aran native. He was probably in his late teens and he planned to attend a carpentry school on the mainland in the fall. The conversation pointed out the conflict that these islands are experiencing. In the past, the islands have lost their young adults to the mainland for generations because there was no work for them. Now, massive construction, thanks to the tourist trade, is providing them with the work they need to stay. Unfortunately, that also means that soon, the stark and desolate island that they love and that we were fortunate enough to experience will no longer exist.
Later That Night: We saw a surprisingly professional show of traditional Celtic music and dance in the local gymnasium. It was a complete delight!
The Next Day: After the ferry ride back to the mainland, Penny drove for the rest of the day. No dents, she might add. (Editors Note: That was her only day of driving and is was over "nice" roads!) We stopped at Roundstone, the capital for traditional Irish music. Jeff bought a bodhrun at the factory shop.
Looking over the edge at Dun Aonghus. Only a few hundred feet high - no problem!