Her name was Lola and she was a showgirl….except that her name wasn’t Lola and her show wasn’t any good. Her real name was Marie Dolores Eliza Rosanna Gilbert—which was quite the mouthful for a stage name—so Lola Montez it became. She invented the role of a mysterious Spanish entertainer and played it for much of her life but everything about her persona was a lie. She was actually Irish, born in Grange, County Sligo, and by the time she passed away on this day in 1861, she had lived a full, dangerous, and notorious life.
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Category Archives: travel
Fatima, Lourdes or just plain Pagan?
There’s a war on in Ireland that doesn’t have a thing to do with water, language, Sectarian violence, or the long history of the Troubles. While all those other battles dominate the press, there is one that slips through the cracks, silently waging on throughout the years and it begs the question, whose rock is it anyway?
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Souvenirs
One year ago today I returned to the U.S. from a trip to Ireland. When we went there, we had no itinerary, no lodging lined up, and no plan at all. We had our luggage and a rental car and we just went wherever whimsy sent us…and that was mostly the west, Dublin, and the coast. It was a scary and amazing way to travel and we found many things we would have missed if we had scheduled things or tried to plan. Because it was December, I had a heavy coat. I also had a simple raincoat, with down lining and a hood. It came in very handy on the top of the Cliffs of Moher and when we decided to go to Achill in winter. (Here’s a tip: nothing is open in winter on Achill. Seriously.)
Here in the US, I don’t really use a heavy raincoat because I live in Oakland, CA. While it is not entirely the sunshine state, most of the time I can get away with a regular coat and an umbrella. I kept the raincoat as a reminder of my trip and whenever I saw it hanging in the closet it made me smile with nostalgia and long for another visit.
2016 take 2
I have been waiting impatiently for news of the centennial celebration in Ireland for months now. I was even more impatient in the days leading up to the release of the schedule of planned events because I have been planning my trip to Dublin for the anniversary for well over a decade and was eager to see what was going to be happening officially. That said, the only thing running through my head after following all the links is What the f%ck did I just watch?
a brief break
So I’m headed to New York and have decided to leave my computer behind at the last minute. It’s time for a couple of days of real vacation. More wonderful Irishness next week. Slan!
Kilgobbin Burial Grounds
There’s more than one Kilgobbin in Ireland. There’s one in Dublin and one on the edge of Tralee Bay in the shadows of the Slieve Mish mountains. If you’re heading down the scenic route toward Dingle there’s a tiny little road near the village of Camp that leads to a stunning old church, a cemetery and an unbelievable view of the bay.
The Ghosts of Kilmainham
It has been said that tourists – and mostly American tourists – are the only reason that Kilmainham Gaol is still open because most Irish couldn’t be bothered with it these days. My new friend who is now happily married here in the U.S. agrees with the travel books that say things like that because he and his generation seem to be sick to death of the glorious dead mentality and couldn’t care less about the history and the Troubles that have haunted the country since even before the Rising of 1916. In fact, he was shocked that we were still asked questions about our religion and last names on our travels to Ireland at the end of last year, both in the Republic and the North because he thought those kinds of things were finished.
However, when I did tour Kilmainham Gaol, I was in a group mostly made up of Irish people and all seemed just as profoundly affected by it as I was. Perhaps it was because of the off season which meant my group was thankfully smaller when we went through the infamous prison, or perhaps it was an anomaly altogether but I was glad for it. It made for a decidedly more intimate and more personal experience.
A hidden castle in Ireland
On the last day of our recent journey in Ireland, it was pouring down rain and we were headed back toward Shannon from Belfast. We were on the main highway and getting cranky because of the storm and from the bigger roads, there’s not a lot of super beautiful scenery or many interesting things to see . It was not the way we wanted to leave, so once we were in the west, we picked an exit at random and started exploring it. There were a few ruins here and there. There were a few historical signs pointing off in random directions and we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere on a country road hunting for castles. A tractor was coming at us from the other direction and as we pulled over to let him pass, we asked him if there were castles nearby. He told us about 3 or 4 of them and ended with “but you know it’s raining, right?” He shook his head when we said we didn’t care, muttering something about crazy girls. Then he began to give us directions to the one that wasn’t a hotel saying, “Well then, just go up the road a few miles, look for the dog at the top of the hill, pull into the driveway of the stone house, knock on the door, and ask for the key to the castle.” We thanked him and continued on down the lane. We found the dog, shivering and wet. We pulled into the drive, and knocked on the door of the stone house. When a very startled man answered and we asked for the key to the castle, he too responded with “You know it’s raining, right?” while he frantically looked for it. After a phone call or two and a reasonably thorough search, this is what he gave us – there’s no mistaking that it is the key to a castle, with that kind of key chain.
Ireland in the Atlas Obscura
I write for a few places – one of my longtime favorites is the Atlas Obscura which is a combination of an obscure travel guide and a historical Atlas. Their Irish section was woefully sparse before I filled it out (which I am still doing) and sometimes I like to share the entries.
The deserted village of Slievemore was one of the first I knew I had to add when I went to Ireland. We were there in the early hours of the morning and it was pouring down rain but we explored it anyway.
Interesting fact: When you’re deep into the Gaeltacht island of Achill in December, it is important to note that there are no off season accommodations. In fact the Annexe Pub was the only place we could find anyone and the amazing bartender had to call a friend who owns the summer hostel to turn on the heat and give us a room for the night. It was a much appreciated and really lovely thing for him to do for the crazy tourists who were traveling without an itinerary. If you make it out that way, have a pint – the Guinness was perfect – and give him some love from the crazy American ladies that he saved from a freezing storm.
The deserted village of Slievemore
Choosing the Green 
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