Monday, November 18, 2019

as clear as crystal.

Set myself something of a high standard, didn't I, with those "as...as" blog titles taken from Irish song lyrics. Which is a tough conceit to maintain in triplicate, and so I'm not even going to try. Ok, that's a lie. I did try, but I just couldn't find any songs about Waterford/southeastern Ireland using an "as...as" idiom. (Failure.)

Anyway.

Returning, at loooong last, to the final segment of our time in Ireland with my parents, waaay back in July... After Galway, we headed southeast towards Waterford by way of King John's castle in Limerick. Yes, the King John like in Robin Hood. He ordered the construction of the castle in around the year 1200, but never lived in or even visited it, and yet it survived to play an important role in the various sieges poor Limerick endured during the next 700-ish years or thereabouts.

Somehow, we managed to not stop and take the glamor shot of the castle from across the river--failure, again!--and instead I just have this sad roadside photo of a couple of towers and a bit of wall.

The view from the ramparts along the River Shannon is not unspectacular.

Ok, so, this is a terrible photo because it was so dark down there, but this was way too cool not to share: underneath that wooden framework is a siege tunnel (also known as a mine) dug under the castle wall in about 1642 by Irish Confederates who were looking to kick the English out!

Original 17th-century mine supports found in those same tunnels.

Found during various excavations: a coin from the reign of Elizabeth I (!!) and a shilling struck from scrap metal (and thus called "gun money") during James II's attempt to regain the throne in 1689. 

Post-castle, we caught a quick, friendly, and really good lunch at Bakehouse 22 just up the road, then went to check out St. Mary's cathedral...

...on the way passing these. You all know how much I (weirdly) love manhole covers and the like, and in Ireland they have some really beautiful ones.

Like, really.

 
St. Mary's Cathedral. Parts of this building date to its original construction in 1182; it's the oldest building still in use in Limerick.

Detail on the romanesque west door.

These arches are original.

This 17th-century funeral monument was built atop lid of the coffin of the cathedral's founder, who died in 1194--and it, in turn, was damaged by Cromwellian soldiers in 1650. (So...much...history...!)

Lepers were not allowed in churches during the Middle Ages, but they could listen to the service and take communion through this "leper's squint" cut into the wall. 

The Pery or Glentworth chapel, with cannonballs from the 1691 siege of Limerick hanging in the arch.

From Limerick, we made our way to our final destination of the trip: Waterford, which lays claim to being the oldest city in Ireland. We arrived with a little time to stroll around, and then it was off to dinner at The Munster Bar, where Mike's beef and Guinness pie was excellent, but my fisherman's pie (with cheese, potatoes, salmon, cod, and shrimps, and I talked Dad into trying one, too) was absolutely superb.

The next morning, our first stop was right across the street from our hotel: the magnificent Reginald's Tower.

Waterford once had 17 stone guard towers in its walls; Reginald's is the largest of the six that remain, and its name is derived from Old Norse--that is to say, it's the only monument in Ireland named for a Viking. (Probably a local ruler by the name of Rognvald or Ragnvald; there were apparently many of those in Waterford's Viking era.) (Also, there's a cannonball embedded in this tower from that time in 1650 when Oliver Cromwell laid siege to the city from the river.)

Reginald's Tower dates to the 13th-ish century and it was, in fact, visited by King John, who also had it made into a mint. Over the centuries, the place functioned as, among other things, the wedding site of Richard de Clare (better known as Strongbow) in 1170; the site of many an English royal visit, in the 13th through 17th centuries; a vital part of city defenses during near-innumerable sieges, the most famous of which occurred in 1649 under Cromwellian direction (and was repelled the first time around!); a munitions store; a prison; the lodgings of the Chief Constable of Waterford (it was inhabited until 1954); a WWII air raid shelter; and, today, the Waterford Viking Museum. (These walls are 10 feet thick at the ground level, and they taper in to 7 feet at the very top.)

Tower toilet, but of course.

Among the many treasures the museum holds, the fanciest is this: the Kite Brooch, a stellar example of Hiberno-Norse (i.e., Irish Viking) metalwork from 1100.

Motif pieces used by metalsmiths in the mid-12th century.

Coins from King John's mint here, 13th century.

Naturally, immediately outside the tower is a replica Viking ship emblazoned with the city's Viking name, Vadrarfjordr

Literally around the next corner, smack in the center of town, is Greyfriars, a ruined Franciscan abbey built over the course of the 13th through 15th centuries. 

Immediately in front of Greyfriars is this massive tree carved into "The Dragon Slayer Sword," which I thought was terribly goofy...

...until we figured out that it depicts the entirety of Waterford's Viking history.

Plus, there's a dragon on it, so...fine, it's actually pretty cool.

Next we set off to find one of Waterford's preserved sections of medieval wall. This is the Double Tower in the foreground, with the French Tower in the back...

...and the Watch Tower, across the street, all of which date, I think, to the 13th and 14th-ish centuries. (Interesting side note: Waterford has the largest collection of medieval towers and defensive walls in Ireland.)

Back in the center, they'd unlocked Greyfriars for the afternoon, so in we went for a quick visit. This place was built around 1240 and functioned as a monastery until the suppression of those by Henry VIII in 1540. Beginning in 1545, it was used as a hospital and alms house, and in the 17th century, Huguenots fleeing persecution in France were given a section of the building to use as a place to worship, and so it's also come to be known as the French Church. (Apparently it was both hospital and church into the early 19th century!)

There's obviously not so much embellishment left in here, but there are a few carved animals...

...and a handful of medieval floor tiles stuccoed into a wall.

Next stop, the Waterford Medieval Museum. (An embarrassment of fantastic museums: Waterford's got it.) Here, the Choristers' Hall, built in 1270 as the residence for the dean of Waterford cathedral.

The spectacular Great Charter Roll of 1373, written and illustrated as part of an appeal to King Edward III to give Waterford a monopoly on wine importation in the region. (At that time in particular, wine was money.)

The Charter Roll was originally 4 meters long, and it contained paintings of various Irish mayors around the country; scenes involving both Waterford's mayor and King Edward; and the Kings of England back to Henry II. (This is Henry III.)

For a history nerd such as myself, that museum is positively rife with documents that actually took my breath away. Here, a deed issued by none other than Henry VIII...

...and one from one Elizabeth I. (This photo is crap, I know, but it was simultaneously so dark and so reflect-y in there. I'm lucky to even have gotten this.)

That's her actual seal. (Yes, I got all kerfuffled. This stuff is freaking amazing to me.)

Dinner on this evening was at the marvelous Everett's, where we were seated in the 15th-century wine vault downstairs. We each had a three-course meal, and I can say unreservedly that every single thing that every single one of us ate was terrific. Should you find yourself in Waterford someday, this place is not to be missed.

The next day, we struck out for a little day trip to Kilkenny, and our first stop--of course--was the castle.

Well...second stop. After the best mocha of my life, and probably one of the top 3 brownies ever, at the Truffle Fairy.

But then, to the castle, where we saw this rather large and rather old family tree on the wall, and I recognized a name or two...

Another castle toilet. I can't stop myself.

The Moorish Staircase, lined with all manner of carved flowers and fruits and animals.

The incredible Picture Gallery, which clearly would have been used as a ballroom by anyone of sane mind. (Or a roller-disco room, in slightly more modern times.)

Detail on that hand-painted ceiling: it's Hiberno-Norse, pre-Raphaelite, quasi-medieval mish-mash madness up there.

Across from the castle, in the Castle Yard area (used to be stables/dairy/workshops for the castle, and now holds an extraordinary collection of artisan shops), we found this lovely lily pond surrounded by giant stone chunks. Turns out, these are remnants of a (massive and rather unpopular) memorial to Lord Nelson that was blown up by the IRA in Dublin in 1966. No one knows how the pieces got to Kilkenny!

The Butter Slip, one of the many charming little medieval tunnel/alleys in the center of town.

Next stop, St. Mary's Medieval Mile Museum, set in a 13th-century church and graveyard. Ostensibly, it's a city history museum, but the primary focus (as it would tend to be, in a graveyard) is funerary culture. Here, the Renaissance-era tomb of Sir Richard Shee, from 1608.

I have zero information on this vine-covered tomb, but I think we can all 100% agree that something very creepy lives inside.

On the other end of town from the castle, nearing St. Canice's cathedral.

Said cathedral and its 9th-century round tower.

Dad and Mike opted to climb the tower, and I did not, since I assumed it was one of those motion-sickness-inducing spiral stone staircase situations. Apparently, it was just ladders, so I would have been fine, but I got to spend a little extra time in the cathedral instead. Which was ok, because that place is fascinating.

All manner of carved wooden people in those roof supports.

In the floor were a few of these 12th-century tombs of Anchorite hermits--ladies who withdrew entirely from the world and lived in small cells next to the church's main altar.

Thirteenth-century tomb slab of the family of Alice Kyteler, a woman who was accused of witchcraft after the deaths of four successive wealthy husbands, and then vanished during her imprisonment, leaving her poor servant girl to be burned at the stake in her place!

St. Canice's also has quite the collection of 16th-century effigy tombs, all in a remarkable state of preservation. 



Ugh, I could not get enough of that ceiling.

The tower is ancient, yes,but the cathedral's no spring chicken, having been finished in around 1280.

Spotted this as we were roaming the streets of Waterford after dinner. Heh.

The next morning, we were up and out to check out the Waterford Crystal Factory, which was a little cheesy, but really does produce some amazing pieces. (The "factory" in Waterford actually focuses nowadays on customs and one-offs, including various sporting trophies and gifts for heads-of-state.)

A guy working in the cutting room.

Seems like something appropriate to come out of this town...

A thing I actually might have bought, if I had any use or place for it: the stunning Four Seasons bowl, entirely hand-etched by master artisans.

After the factory tour, we packed up and headed towards Dublin, stopping somewhere outside of Enniscorthy to check out the Irish Sea.

Once back in Dublin, we headed in to Temple Bar for a little live music; dinner at the Elephant and Castle (where the food is good, but the portions are shockingly large); and then some more music and a little Irish dancing at Lundy Foot's. (That place is a good time, I can tell you, and has pretty good service even when they're packed.) And, the next morning, hoping against hope that my parents had had as good a time as we did, we headed for home. Ireland, you and your people are a delight, and we are fortunate to have been able to spend some quality time with you this year!

Next up: um...there might not be one. This blog is exhausting to write, and I'm obviously taking longer and longer to put a post together, and I know of exactly three people who still read it (my husband being one of them, and he's always along on these journeys anyway, so why's he need a written account??), and it's nearly impossible to gin up the enthusiasm requisite to write this kind of fluffy nonsense in this craptacular day age (and who wants to write with faux enthusiasm?? that's just not me), and I feel like a massive heel, writing about how great my life is when western civilization is essentially burning to the ground... and so I might be packing it all in. Or I might try to crank through Japan, just because it was so spectacular and wonderful and delicious, and it seems to mean something to Mike that I try...but I haven't decided yet.

Whatever the case, friends, it's been a long and weird and delicious and wonderful journey and I thank you for sticking with me, whoever and wherever you may be.