Day 9: Moher, Bunratty, farewell

Day 9–Moher, Bunratty, & farewell

I’m starting this note during a 3 hour layover at Chicago’s O’Hare airport and will finish it at home. We were all ready for a beer when we got off that 8 hour flight in very cramped quarters on our Boing 757—a smaller plane then we’d hoped for.

But even confinement in the airplane prison for 8 hours couldn’t diminish the praise for our tour of Ireland.

Yesterday we marveled at the Cliffs of Moher. (When you say the “h” in Moher, you have to make a little throat-clearing sound.)

Edna Lee especially enjoyed this busker at the Cliffs of Moher.  Others we saw around Ireland played concertinas, tin whistles, or fiddles.
At the cliffs we stood at the top and watched floating white dots that were Seagulls flying above the crashing surf 600 feet below.  It took binoculars to see them, but some ledges were lined with dozens of Puffins.   The whole scene was truly awsome!  The hundred photos we took of the site cannot begin to do justice to it.
We capped the day and the trip with a stay at Bunratty Castle Hotel, shopping in little Bunratty village and touring the restored castle. As big as it is and as low as the upkeep would be (no painting, no electricity, etc.) we certainly wouldn’t want to live there.
We went back to the castle for a Medieval Banquet that evening—and here’s the best part—of the 200 people at the banquet, guess who was chosen Lord and Lady to preside over the festivities. Bill and Jan Brass.  Note the crowns.What fun. We had ribs, chicken, soup, and veggies—but no silverware other than a sharp knife. The entertainment was excellent—violin, harp, madrigal singers.

Although our little farewell party was held in County Clare (Bunratty) rather than County Limerick, several limericks were written and composed just for that occasion.

There are salutes by the dozens in lore
There’s Caesar’s and Nixon’s and more
    But if anyone asks ya,
    The best’s from Nebraska.
It’s the Smith clan’s jolly High Four
There once were 2 frugal lads, and a lass
Whose names were Trudy, Bob and Bill Brass.
    When asked for a hand-out
    They would give out a shout
"You can kiss our green Irish ass!"

Whether Sneem, Dublin, or Kilkearney,
Or a stone in the wall at Blarney
    Batt’s got a poem
    For wherever you roam.
Even one for a loo in Killarney

To get the joke of this last limerick, you have to understand that the ancestral home of the O’Sullivans was not fertile land, nor a place a commoner could eke out more than a subsistence living. It also takes some creativity and poetic license to rhyme “Ballyferriter.”

A young lady’s father disinherited her.
Not a penny nor farthing he merited her.
    She said, “Oh that’s funny.
    He couldn’t have had money
Me father’s from Ballyferriter,

Since we’re recording limericks here, let’s include this one actually written in County Limerick on our first day to commemorate a spontaneous burst of gaity by two of our company.

‘Twas in Adare that Jeanne and Bob
Were surrounded by a tourist mob.
    They were a hit big
    As they danced a fine jig
Pretty enough to make an Irishman sob.
Batt Burns added to the considerable laughter with yet another of his tales.   We almost hated to bring that gathering to a close so we could get to the banquet on time.


The above photo of The Cousins was taken in County Clare a few miles northwest of the Cliffs of Moher. At the same time we took photos with the Custer Co. Chief and the Columbus, OH Dispatch, pics which will be submitted for publication.

Ireland has declared this the year of “gathering” throughout the country, and the Smith Cousins along with spouses and friends certainly contributed to that effort.

When you have finished reading the above notes and studying the photos, it is only fitting that you sing these verses written by some of our tour leaders.  It is to be sung to the tune of “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.”

When Irish Smiths are singing
All the world is bright and gay
There’s Bill and Bob and Trudy
And also Al and Kay.

‘Tis Ric and Rosemary
Bob and Nancy as well.
Deo, Greg, and Colleen
Becky and Bobbi and Del

We can’t ignore the in-laws
And the many friends alike.
Both Jeannes, Kay and Jan and Jan
Then Don and and Mike and Mike.

Pat and Ruth and Edna-Lee
Lorene, and Bert and Jodi
Jean and Dave and Betty
And surely we’ve got a Shirley.

When Irish Smiths are singing
Nebraska grows with pride
But ‘cross the ‘Lantic Ocean
The people there did cry.

Now keep the volume real low”
Cuz’ none can carry a tune
They’ll throw us out of Ireland
We’ll be seeing you home real soon!