Germany/Ireland — Addenda

Book.  In the Frankfurt airport on my way to Ireland, I wanted to get something to read on the plane and in restaurants in Ireland. I found a book called Have a Little Faith by Mitch Albom, who wrote Tuesdays with Morrie and a couple of other pretty good books. Of course the title grabbed my attention, and I bought it. It's the parallel stories of his writing the eulogy for his childhood rabbi (at the rabbi's invitation) and his dealings with a reformed drug dealer/addict who was pastor of a small Christian church in Detroit. It was interesting and easy to read. I guess Albom believes that there is a God who leads people to do good things (which I also believe), and that exactly how you express your belief doesn't matter as long as you have a little faith (which I don't quite agree with). By the time I got home, I had finished the book. It has a lot of interesting stories about the rabbi and the pastor and things they did and things that happened to them.

British Couple. Thursday morning at breakfast I exchanged pleasantries with a British couple. If memory serves, they were from Brighton, and some of her family had come from Monaghan. They asked if I knew of any good restaurant for dinner. I mentioned that the best I had been to so far was Andy's, where I had had dinner the previous evening (and it really was quite good). It turns out they were the couple seated near me whom I had heard complaining about slow service. So I mentioned the Westenra Arms. I think they had been there also and found it unsatisfactory. The only other place I had gone for dinner was The Squealing Pig, which was mentioned on the Monaghan website. The dining room was upstairs, the pub downstairs. The food was tasty enough, but definitely not gourmet. I was satisfied with it. So when the man asked how it was I said something like "adequate" to which he replied that when Americans say it's adequate that means it's dreadful. They seemed like nice enough people, but it's too bad that they couldn't be satisfied in places I found quite good. I think in general, when people travel "on holiday" they should be willing to accept that things won't always be like home nor "five star." And to expect anything better than the Westenra Arms or Andy's (neither of which had anything wrong with it IMO) in an off-the-beaten-track place like Monaghan is really unreasonable. I was pleasantly surprised to find anything two places that good. And Thursday evening I had a very good dinner at Master Deery's before meeting someone in the pub who was an expert on local genealogy.

Maybe delays in service seem worse when you're with someone. You have to keep a conversation going while you wait for your food, and you notice the time passing. But when you're alone and have a good book to read, you can get absorbed in it, and occasionally get distracted by the nearby family with active children or the young couple who are clearly on a date, so the time passes quickly.

Battle of the Boyne. After returning to Monaghan from Dublin on Thursday, I was walking from the bus station to the hotel. Beside the street was a small park next to a small lake. A half dozen small children were playing, along with a boy who may have been 14 years of age. Next to the park was a tourist information board with the usual maps of town and surroundings. I was looking to see if it showed the location of the Battle of the Boyne, in which William of Orange defeated James II of England, effectively securing the British throne for the Protestants. (The anniversary, July 12, is celebrated annually by the Orangemen of Northern Ireland.) As I studied the map a boy, no older than 10, asked if he could help. I said what I was looking for, and he called to the older boy. I apologized for the bother and told what I was looking for. He didn't recognize the name of the Battle of the Boyne. I explained a bit, thinking that might help. It rang no bell. I might as well have been talking about some obscure skirmish in the U.S Civil War. It meant nothing to him.

Reflecting on this, I saw it as a hopeful sign. This pivotal Protestant-Catholic battle is no longer something that is part of the everyday culture in a part of Ireland about an hour's drive from the scene and just across the border from Northern Ireland. Perhaps past hostility is finally receding into the past.

Broken Mirror. After the left side mirror got broken in Tipperary, backing up became a problem. The narrow field of vision through the rear window meant that I had no way of seeing anything behind the vehicle to the left side. At the hotel in Limerick, I had no choice but to go head-on into a parking space. Fortunately, there were no problems getting out at midmorning. But subsequently, I took care to park only in spots I'd be able to get out of by driving forward. For example, in parking lots with double rows, I'd be sure to drive through so that I was headed out of a spot.

Belonging. (I had to keep the alliteration going.) As I wrote this post I also looked through some of the earlier posts and I noticed in one of the pictures from Rothenburg you can see someone taking a picture of the Junge Schar. And it reminded me of something I realized from the first time I sat at the table with the Junge Schar. That is, thanks to their welcome, my experience went beyond what the vast majority of tourists have. They see things as outsiders, but I increasingly became a part of what the tourists were looking at. My friendship with Stefan and the others enabled me to experience things in a way that was truly special, and truly a privilege, and truly a highlight of my life. And I'm really grateful to everybody who welcomed me into the Rothenburg "scene."

But I also believe that it is possible for people who are willing to go beyond the safety of the tour group, the hotel, and such to have special interactions with people they can meet as they travel. All it takes is a willingness to talk to "the locals," a willingness to meet them and perhaps even be drawn into what they are doing. Perhaps it is unlikely to go as far as I was able to with the Junge Schar, but  good times can be shared and acquaintances and lasting friendships can be formed. Perhaps this is even a lesson that can be applied nearer to home.

Germany/Ireland — Sept. 13, 2010

It was time to go home. I had chosen flight times that would mean I wouldn't have to get up extremely early or get home extremely late. Since I had booked my trip as a package with Lufthansa, I had to go from Dublin to Frankfurt, and from Frankfurt to Boston.

But first there was the matter of returning the vehicle at the airport. After each accident, I filled out the form they had provided, and took pictures of the damage. I had also gone to the police station in Monaghan after the first accident and made a report there, but since there was no injury or damage to other property, they basically didn't care. The mirror of  the second vehicle was hanging on by a couple of wires, and as I reached highway speed, it started banging around. Fortunately, after a very short time it fell off, so I didn't have it making noise and possibly causing damage all the way to Dublin. At the rental return place the man took my damage reports very calmly and charged me the replacement cost for the mirror. It was either €46 or 64 — not bad and not more than I had expected.

In the line at the check-in for the flight, I met a nice couple from the Netherlands, originally from Austria, who knew people who knew people I knew. They had visited my home town on occasion.

The flights were uneventful, and I was met at the airport by my brother, which made the final bit of the trip a bit easier that if I had needed a taxi service.

There are a couple of things I forgot to mention when telling about the day they happened, such as the second book I bought, the English couple at breakfast one morning, and dealing with parking lots in the SUV, so there is still a wrap up post to come.

But for now I'll just mention that it was a good trip. It would have been better without having to drive on the left and without the accidents (but thank goodness no injuries), but I'm glad I went. I've been thinking about some bloggers who have recently had a university semester abroad, and I think it has been their first time going to Europe. As I think back to my first few trips outside the U.S., there was a freshness, a feeling of discovery, of adventure, which gradually diminished as I made more visits. Going to Israel renewed the feeling, and to a lesser extent going to Bosnia-Herzegovina. And of course this time, Ireland was all new to me. But all the trips have been examples of the sort of enjoyment a single guy can have in life. Being single, whether at home or away, does not have to mean loneliness, a dull existence, or a lack of meaningful human contact.

Germany/Ireland — Sept. 12, 2010

My plan for Sunday was to attend Mass at the Shrine of Our Lady of Knock. Here's a link to the Shrine's own site. It was about a 15 minute drive from Claremorris. When I got there, it was about time for one of the scheduled Masses, and I found one in progress in the "Apparition Chapel," a modern building adjacent to the wall of the old church on which the apparition occurred. It has sculptures representing how the apparition was described by those who saw it. When it came time for distribution of communion, the priest asked for someone from the congregation to help, and since I am a communion minister in my parish, I went forward and helped: quite an unexpected privilege. After Mass, I introduced myself to the priest. When he learned where I was from, he mentioned that he knew a priest in Boston — unfortunately not someone I'm acquainted with.

Then I took some pictures, until my camera's battery ran out. (Maybe it's a good thing I didn't take more pictures in Dublin: the battery might have failed before I got these.)

The Apparition Chapel.

Looking into the Apparition Chapel during a Mass. The rear wall of the chapel is the exterior wall of the church on which the vision appeared. You can see the sculptures representing the vision.

One unusual feature of this vision is that there was nothing said by those who appeared. Generally, when the Blessed Virgin appears, she speaks to those who see her.

The basilica. It was to my right when I took the previous pictures. To the left of the basilica is a tall celtic cross commemorating the visit of Pope John Paul II.

Many people who visits sites such as this report feeling of an almost mystical sort. That doesn't generally happen to me. I tend to feel analytical the whole time. I don't know if it's some sort of deficiency in my personality, but I regret not sharing the exalted feelings many others get. Still, for what it's worth, going there was an act of faith on my part, and I certainly don't regret going or having it as a major destination of this trip.

Afterwards, I returned to Monaghan. The decision I had to make was whether to take the motorway to Dublin and the highway to Monaghan or to take a more direct route, leaving the motorway about halfway to Dublin and going via Cavan and Clones. I decided on the latter, and it turned out okay, although I hit a traffic jam in Cavan (which I could have avoided if I had understood the sign which indicated the way to a bypass). The jam in Clones was the only one I encountered which was eased by police directing traffic. Betwenn Clones and Monaghan Town, the most direct route passes through two stretches, each about a mile long, of Northern Ireland. There are no border stations, so the only way you know you are in territory subject to H.M Betty Windsor is that distances are given in miles rather than kilometers.

Germany/Ireland — Sept. 11, 2010

On Saturday, as usual, I had a leisurely breakfast and then took my time packing as I was in no great hurry, leaving some time after 10:00.

In planning for the trip, I had thought I would visit Lough Derg, which is a lake along the course of the River Shannon not far from Limerick. It has in it a "Holy Island" which was the location of an ancient monastery and which I had read about as a pilgrimage site. While my time in the eastern part of the iasland had been intended to have a large measure of visiting "roots" and ordinary tourism, I had thought of the time in the west as a sort of pilgrimage. So I'd visit the Holy Island on Saturday and Knock, the scene of the Marian apparitions, on Sunday.

But I realized from the maps, that the road to Lough Derg was unlikely to be better than some of the secondary roads I had experienced, and after the accidents and the tension I had experienced in driving around Ireland, I decided it would not be prudent to make the excursion. Instead, I would go via the highway from Limerick to Claremorris, where I would stay overnight.

A major tourist attraction just north of Limerick is Bunratty Castle. Other links are available if you Google Bunratty Castle. I had decided before the trip that it was basically a tourist trap, and I wouldn't stop there. But it was about 11:00 when I arrived at the exit for Bunratty, and I didn't need to be in Claremorris until evening, so I had time on my hands and decided to take a look. I stayed for three hours!

View of the castle from the southwest. Guest quarters were on the top floors at this end, although Lord and Lady Gort used it themselves after they restored the castle, and it still has the antique furniture they purchased for it. In previous times the lord's private quarters were at the other end.

View of the Ratty River from the upper level of the castle, with the broad expanse of the Shannon in the distance.

One of the things I like about traveling alone is that I can spend whatever time I want on something rather than being herded along by a tour guide, or even having to accommodate the wishes of traveling companions. I found the castle fascinating, carefully restored by the couple who bought it for £5,000 about 55 years ago. There were knowledgeable guides who explained a lot, and a good leaflet showing what each room was. So I lingered over many details.

I hadn't previously known about the folk park. The name made it sound (to me) like an amusement park, but in truth it was a reconstruction of country and village life of the 19th century, with typical cottages brought from various regions — most of which looked quite livable — and other houses with known histories and a typical main street. It was also quite interesting.

Deer in the park in front of Bunratty House, which, as wiki notes, was built by the owners of the castle in 1804 to serve as a more comfortable residence. It is at the far end of the folk park from the castle.

A church which was brought here and reconstructed in the park.

Finally I got back in my car and headed for Claremorris. At this point I'll begin quoting from what I wrote that evening. I left Bunratty with my dark feelings of the previous evening largely gone.

Driving to Claremorris on the left was still nerve-wracking, with the quality of the road changing between 4-lane divided and narrow 2-lane. Despite a long traffic jam approaching Clarinbridge (?), which required 15-20 minutes to go no more than 5 km, the driving time to Claremorris [was] only about 2 1/2 hours, including time spent in town looking for the hotel until I decided to park the car and search on foot.

After arrival and briefly settling in, I had lunch [at about 5:00 p.m. in the hotel dining room adjacent to the pub.] Later I went for a stroll, and at one point on a side street I encountered a small group of teenagers going the other way. As we passed, one of the lads admired my straw hat, and indicated he'd like to have it. He finally said, "I'll suck you off for that hat." I didn't reply. When the moment had passed it occurred to me that I could have said something like, "That's ridiculous. You'd get two things you want,  and I'd get nothing I want — I'd just lose my hat." It's probably just as well it didn't occur to me sooner.

Dinner was at about 10:00 back at the hotel. As everywhere else, there was a decent crowd of apparent regulars in the pub, many enjoying a sporting event on the TV's. Also this is as good a point as any to note that the food was generally good all over the country — nicely sauced steaks cooked as I asked, moist and tasty salmon, etc. And all over Ireland baked brie was offered as an appetizer. It is clearly the current fad — not bad stuff, of course, but it was a bit of a surprise that it was so ubiquitous.

Germany/Ireland — Sept. 10, 2010

On Friday the 10th, as planned, I drove to Limerick, where I had a hotel room reserved for the night. The motorways are like American interstate highways or German Autobahns, with anything from two to four lanes in each direction. I wrote a fairly lengthy note that evening. Here it is, with some pictures interspersed. As always you can enlarge the pictures by clicking once or twice.

There was little difficulty leaving Monaghan and going to Dublin. It went more quickly than I had expected. Eventually I arrived via the M-50 at the motorway for (Cork and) Limerick. Again, I made good time,* although driving on the left was nerve-wracking even on the four-lane divided highway.


*Actually traffic was congested for a bit early on [until the motorway for the southeast branched off, I think].


At the point where the motorway for Cork branches off the one for Limerick, it was not far from Cashel, so I decided to visit the Rock [of Cashel. I drove into the town and parked in a lot in the center of town and walkde to the hill]. There are fine views of the countryside all around, and a good guide named Frank explained the buildings very well. I spent a very enjoyable couple of hours in Cashel.

A couple of views looking up from the streets of the town. As you can see, there is preservation work in progress.

Here's the 13th century cathedral. The round tower dates to about 1200.

Views of the countryside from the Rock. The second one includes the ruins of a Cistercian abbey destroyed by Cromwell's men. When I double clicked I noticed the sheep in a couple of fields and the cows in another.

Cashel, from the hillside, including the former Dominican monastery.

Then it was on to Limerick via Tipperary. [I had noticed on one of the tourist information signs that the (secondary) road through Tipperary was more direct than retracing my route to the fork in the motorway and then taking the motorway to Limerick.] There was considerable congestion in Tipperary — streets narrowed with parked cars on both sides and heavy traffic in both directions, moving quite slowly. As I kept out of the path of a large … truck [with inches to spare] I heard a bang and looked over and saw that the left side mirror had been swung back and the glass was cracked and hanging loose. I reproached myself for being so foolish as to think I could drive in Ireland.


It was not easy to find my way through Limerick City, but I didn't get lost. Once on the north side of the city it took a couple of loops through the neighborhood to find, first Ennis St., and then the hotel. Settled in the pleasant hotel I continued to think of the trip to Ireland as a disaster — a day in the countryside around Monaghan, possibly south to Slane and Tara, lost because of the first accident and Donagh Graveyard still unseen. But after dinner in the bar (one bartender looked remarkably like M… D… [a guy I once had a crush on] I felt slightly better — and even more so after a late evening pint.

Germany/Ireland — Sept. 09, 2010

On Thursday, September 9, I took the bus to and from Dublin, and learned that you can switch from the N2 highway — that goes from Monaghan and points north to Dublin — to the superior M1 motorway which links Dublin and Belfast. The switch is made at a point about a third of the way to Dublin, where they are about a mile apart. There is a bus about every hour from Monaghan to Dublin and back. The bus terminal is north of the River Liffey, and most of the tourist attractions are on the south side, but it was not a problem for me as it was not too long a walk to get across, and I was able to see plenty in five hours of walking around.

Before crossing the river, I wanted to see the GPO (General Post Office) which the rebels had seized in the Easter Rising against the British in 1916. Following a map, but with no real idea of what the GPO looks like, I first checked out a building which turned out to be St. Mary's (Catholic) Pro-Cathedral. It was almost time for Mass, so I stayed for that. Then I went a block farther and came to the GPO.

Here's the GPO, seen from across the street. There is a museum room, to the right of the main lobby, with items related to the Easter Rising.

From there it was only a short distance to the river and across. A couple of blocks from the river is the area called Temple Bar (which you can google) with interesting buildings and shops, restaurants, etc., appealing both to tourists and to students from nearby Trinity College. I strolled along westerly for a while, until I came to Christ Church Cathedral (Anglican). Then I retraced my steps for a block or so to Dublin Castle.

It is on the site of Norman fortfications and now houses the Dublin city government.

The round tower dates to the century,

Adjoining it is the 19th century chapel royal. Inside, around the gallery, are coats of arms of all the British Lord Lieutenants of Ireland. This and the previous picture are from outside, on the southern side.

Here's a picture from inside.

Leaving Dublin Castle I walked several blocks to St. Stephen's Green, and thence a block to Leinster House, the seat of the Irish Parliament (Oireachtas). I had hoped to see it, but there was no admittance without a pass, which was obtainable at the U.S. Embassy, but I hadn't time for that.

I walked a block further and came to Trinity College. This is an interior courtyard, with the library on the far side

The old library has the Book of Kells on exhibit, and I popped in for a look. Very interesting. There is a lot more about mediæval bookmaking in addition to the souvenir shop and lots of books in the stacks and reading room. A closer view of the library, showing the area which houses the souvenir shop.

From there I headed back across the river to the bus station and caught a bus for Monaghan. The buses were very comfortable — motorcoaches, as they say, rather than the sort of thing you get for local transportation.

I don't have any links to post. but if anything interests you, I'm sure wiki will have an article, and google will offer that and further information about the city in general as well as specific locations

Germany/Ireland — Sept. 08, 2010

I hadn't uploaded pictures before my previous post. Click on them to enlarge for a better view. Click again to enlarge even more.

Here's one I took looking easterly from my room at the B+B on Tuesday, Sept. 7, while I was waiting to get to car looked at in the garage. It shows St. Macartan's Cathedral, which was built on a hill east of the town in the 19th century. Although the cathedral is in Monaghan town, the diocese is called the Diocese of Clones (pronounced CLO ness), a town about 10 miles west of Monaghan. Below the cathedral, you can see the roof of a nearby building.

On Wednesday morning I waited for the replacement vehicle. By 10:20 it had not arrived, so I called and learned that the only thing they had with automatic transmission was a commercial SUV. I accepted that rather than an ordinary sized car with standard transmission. All my experience in driving has involved shifting with my right hand, and I felt it would be too demanding to have to shift with my left hand, along with the other unfamiliar elements of driving on the left. They promised the vehicle by 1:00, and rather than make the Canadians and Willie McKenna curtail their visit to Donagh in order to get me back in plenty of time, I told them to go without me. I had a leaflet from the Tourist Centre for a walking tour of the town, so I set out. My walk began going in reverse direction along the route I had driven to the B+B on Monday evening. For a bit more information, here's the link to the wiki article about the town.

You can find more, if you're at all interested, by googling Monaghan. There's pretty good site sponsored by the tourism bureau. So browse to your heart's content.

At the top of the slope of Dublin Road is the main square, or "diamond," as they call it in Ireland, and on the north side of the diamond is the brick Westenra Arms Hotel. In the center of the diamond is the Rossmore memorial. Westenra is the family name of the earls of Rossmore and the memorial honors a member of the family who died accidentally in his youth. (If you look closely you can see not only the two s's of the name but also the o to the left and the m to the right at the level just above the arches.) The diamond was under reconstruction at the time, and the orange temporary fencing protects a work area.

In the above and subsequent photos, you see a number of fairly substantial buildings, many of stone. In the early and mid- 19th century, the town was relatively prosperous and these grand buildings could be built in the center of town.

After passing through the diamond, I came to the courthouse (also undergoing repairs) on the southeast side of the street (which is gradually curving toward the south). The column in front of the courthouse is a monument to the seven fatal victims of a car bombing in 1974 — part of the decades-long conflict between loyalists and nationalists. The names of the victims are inscribed in the vertical pieces — one vertical for each victim, not all visible from this side.

The bank of Ireland. To the left is the beginning of North Road, which is where the bombing happened. To both sides you can see buildings of a more ordinary size and character.

Looking west along Mill St.

This is the Monaghan County Museum. After the vehicle was delivered, I visited the museum. It has interesting exhibits showing and explaining artifacts from prehistoric times to the 20th century. So there is a good bit of cultural anthropology, I think you'd call it, along with historical information.

The Market House. I had passed by on the other side when I drove into town.

St. Joseph's Church, where I went to Mass on Tuesday.

Park St., looking southerly, toward the roundabout. At the left you can see a corner of the church. Just beyond is a sign alerting drivers to the roundabout. The park is beyond the roundabout. When I came into town I drove from the roundabout toward the area from which this picture was taken.

West side of Park St. You can see the same yellow sign as in the previous picture. A bit to the left is the Veritas Bookshop and Gallery. I forgot to mention in  my previous post that after Mass on Tuesday (before the accident) I went in there to browse around and found The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in English translation, and I bought it. I read some of it during the rest of my trip. Unfortunately I set it aside when I got home, so it's probably less that half finished. It is a very thought-provoking book.

The replacement vehicle was delivered about 12:50. I think it might almost be called a van, rather than an SUV. Anyway, it had a large flat area behind the driver's  seat, with doors at the sides and rear — no second row for passengers. The window in the rear doors was tinted, making it difficult the view things behind, and since the distance to the window was longer than in ordinary cars, the field of vision was cut down.

After my visit to the museum, I headed north along route N2 (which eventually gets you to Derry). It's about four or five miles to Emyvale. From Emyvale, a winding road goes about two or three miles to Glaslough. The name Donagh does not appear on current maps, but it is apparently the area from Emyvale to the border with Northern Ireland (County Tyrone), including Glaslough.

When I reached Emyvale, I stopped to check the tourist information sign (they have one in every town) to make sure I found the right road to Glaslough. And I noticed a building called Donagh Oratory across the street. It looked as it it might be a Protestant chapel, but when I got inside, it proved to be Catholic. The stained glass windows extending to the floor are unusual. To the right is a tabernacle in the shape of a celtic cross.

The road from Emyvale was two lanes wide, and in many places there was no shoulder, and frequently walls and hedges prevented a view up the road of more than 20 or thirty yards. Needless to say, I went fairly slowly.

When I got to Glaslough, I headed south, and stopped just outside town and took these pictures looking northwesterly and southwesterly. Emyvale is somewhere out there. More importantly, this is countryside which must have been familiar to ancestors of mine 200 years ago. When I went back into Glaslough, I found a sign (not the one below) which showed Donagh Cemetery somewhere in the area included in these photographs. No doubt ancestors of mine a buried there, since it is centuries old. I found the one-lane road which goes by it, but I did not find the cemetery itself. Willie brought the Canadians there. So it's unfortunate I wasn't able to go with them.

This sign on the road south of Glaslough is what let me know I was just south of town when I took the pictures. It's a very small town. In the upper left is the street that runs north and south. I guess Castle Leslie is the building in the lower left. The Frommer Guide mentions that Winston Churchill was a guest there, as were W. B. Yeats and Mick Jagger (on different occasions). It's also where Sir Paul McCartney married Heather Mills in 2002. Actually I was wrong I couple of posts back when I said Frommer's only mentions Castle Leslie among things in County Monaghan: their section on County Fermanagh also mentions Snaffles Brasserie in the Castle Leslie Hunting Lodge as a good place to dine.

On my way back from Donagh to Monaghan Town, I stopped a little south of Emyvale and took this picture of St. Patrick's Church. I don't know if it was built before my ancestors emigrated, but is has a tablet commemorating Canon Patrick Moynagh, who was the priest who encouraged emigration from the area to Prince Edward Island.

Here again is the link for a wiki article on County Monaghan.

Germany/Ireland — Sept. 07, 2010

After a full breakfast of eggs, sausage, pudding, bacon, toast, and tea (with orange juice to begin), I strolled around for a bit. I checked out the church which people had been leaving as I drove past the previous evening. It was Catholic, and had a Mass scheduled at 10:00.  At about 9:50 I got to the Tourist Information Centre, where the lady had maps of the town, bus schedules (I planned to take the bus to Dublin one day during my visit) and various leaflets. When I told her that my great-great-grandmother — who had emigrated from County Monaghan to Prince Edward Island with her husband, James White, in the early 1840's — was born a McKenna, she said I must meet Willie McKenna, who is a fount of information about the County, the McKennas, and the PEI connection.

I got back to the church at about 10:10 and was surprised to find that there was standing room only (with seats for at least 400). This is in a town with a population a little over 6,000 (my parish has about as many Catholics, and we get one tenth as many for weekday Mass — and that's not bad for our area).

After Mass, I went to move the car from the lot which is free overnight but costs one Euro per hour during the day, to one where the parking is free (a little bit past an area of long term parking for €2 per day. At the entrance to the free lot, after some speed bumps, the way narrowed to a single lane, and there were steel posts on each side. I was noticing the buildings on the far side of the lot when there was a loud noise and the car stopped suddenly. I had hit the post on the left, smashing in the fender and breaking the housing for the headlight. The piece inside the tire well was in contact with the tire, and the front bumper was loose. I drove the car back to the €2 long-term parking area, and went back to the B+B, where the owner was very helpful about lending me her phone to call the rental company to report the accident, and her husband later led me to a repair shop. The owner there informed the rental company that the car was not driveable, and I was promised a replacement by 10:00 the next morning. Thank goodness I had decided to take full collision insurance.

I had thought I'd spend the day driving to spots of interest in the counties to the south of Monaghan, such as Slane, the Hill of Tara, Trim Castle, Mellifont Abbey, the Boyne, etc., as time permitted, with probably a second day on Thursday. But after the accident, I had to spend the afternoon handy to the telephone so as to be available to the rental company.

Late in the afternoon, I met a couple who were staying at the B+B. They were originally from PEI and also had Monaghan ancestors but now live in western Canada, and they were planning to meet Willie McKenna that evening in a pub. We went by ourselves to the pub at about 5:30 and got acquainted. Then at 10:00 we returned and met Willie McKenna. He was planning to take them to the area our ancestors had lived in, called Donagh, the following morning. They invited me to join them, and I said I would. We'd leave about 10:30.

Frommer's guide to Ireland does not mention County Monaghan as having anything worth seeing (except for a reference to Castle Leslie in the part on Northern Ireland!), but Monaghan Town is pleasant enough and has its points of interest. More about that tomorrow.

Germany/Ireland — Sept. 06, 2010

I said good bye to my hosts Monday morning, left Rothenburg at about 10:40 a.m., and arrived at the airport in Frankfurt at about 1:00 p.m. I'm still amazed at how quickly I was able to go between Frankfurt and Rothenburg. Maybe it's because the autobahn has been improved to avoid the traffic jam I always used to hit at Aschaffenburg. Maybe it's because I didn't stop along the way or take any secondary roads.

When I checked in, I was surprised to learn that I was flying business class to Dublin. It had originally been booked that way, but I hadn't noticed. The rest of the trip was economy class. The business class lounge was pleasant: free coffee, snacks, beer, wine, newspapers (and I had just bought one before going there!). But the best thing was on the plane: more room. There were two seats on each side instead of three. That extra space makes things very much more comfortable. I'm not sure if I'll go to Europe or Japan again, but if I do, and if I can afford it, I'm definitely going to go business class. Of course, the longer the flight, the more difference it makes (and probably the more it costs); but my travel tip for the day is: for long flights, go business if you can afford it.

I arrived at Dublin about 5:15 p.m., got my rental car, and was on my way by 6:00. On the approach to the motorway, there were lanes for Belfast, Dublin, and All Other. Of course, I took the All Other, but quickly left because it seemed to be headed to the southwest, and my destination, Monaghan, was north. After a short while I realized that I was getting nowhere fast and had no idea how to get to Monaghan from the spot where I was. A check of the map confirmed that I wanted highway N2 and I needed to get back on the motorway. So that's what I did. But during my useless side trip at one point I hit the curb with the left front tire so hard that I thought I'd better stop and check for damage. Thankfully, there was none.

Before I got to Ireland, I had thought that the danger in having to drive on the left would be a tendency  to move over to the right. But that only happened in parking lots and driveways. On the road the problem was not knowing how much space to leave on the left. Let's say x represents the driver's position and – the passenger's, | the side of the road, and . the center. When you drive on the right, the situation is:  |  .x–|  but when you're on the left it's:  |–x.  | . It's easy enough to keep to your side of the road, but judging the space you need to leave on the left is the hard part, because you've got to allow for the passenger side, which you're not used to.

Well, it was raining fairly heavily (the remnants of Hurricane Earl), which cut down on the view, but the highway was good and well marked. The roundabouts, which some people seem to think are a problem, actually were helpful. They prevented any tendency to drift into the wrong lane when making a turn. So I arrived in Monagahn Town without any trouble. But I didn't know exactly how to find Ashleigh House, the B+B where I was staying. Fortunately, I had just enough memory of the map of the town to guess that when I came to the roundabout, I should go right. I did so and then just kept going as the road curved slowly around to the right. Presently, there was Ashleigh House on the left side of the road. Even though I wasn't completely sure I was still on the right road, it wasn't pure luck. I had studied the map enough to be able to guess correctly that I should keep going through town until I got to the roundabout (although a  right turn  a block sooner would also have worked) and to make an educated guess about how to proceed from the roundabout.

So at 8:00 p.m., about 11 hours after leaving Rothenburg (2 flying, 4 in airports, and 5 on the road), I was in Monaghan, having successfully driven on the left for the first time in my 50 years of driving, and ready to explore one of my ancestral homelands.

Promises to Keep

At this point I have four projects for posts.

The oldest is my series on what St. Paul says about homosexuality, which was prompted a couple of years ago by something from a blogger named feetxxxl (not entirely sure offhand how many x's should be there. Anyway, he was arguing that St' Paul's strictures against homosexuality (like every other commandment) do not apply to those who live in the Spirit. I set myself a twofold project: to explain why I think that St. Paul really does say homosexual conduct is wrong and then to explain why I think the rules apply even to those who live according to the Spirit. I've pretty nearly finished the first part.

Next is my series on Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body. While it is written from a perspective of heterosexuality, I think it gives us some good insights into what lust is and why we should try to overcome it. It also places sexuality in general in a context that supports the traditional teaching of the Church, but in a way which avoids the seeming arbitrariness of earlier explanations. There will have to be a lot more installments before I have posted all the excerpts I want.

A little over a year ago, I went on an eight-day retreat, and I promised Dean Grey I'd tell about it. I hope to start that account this week and give a post for each day of the retreat.  Since I've signed up for another retreat in March, this review my be useful for me too.

And I've also promised to tell about my trip in September to Germany and Ireland. At this point, I think a post for each day of travel would work well.

So I've got a ton of stuff to post about. Please be patient.

"Every Saint has a past, Every Sinner has a future"

I found a laminated card with those lines in the back of a church in Monaghan Town, Co. Monaghan, Ireland, when I was there in September. It goes on to say,
"My past life I leave to Your Mercy, O God.
My present life I give to Your Love.
My future life I place in Your Providence."

Nach Hause zurück

The title means "Back home." I left on Sept. second, got to Rothenburg ob der Tauber on the 3rd, went to Ireland on the 6th, and came home yesterday, the 13th. I'll post about it when I have time.

I hope everybody was well, and good, while I was away. I'll check the blogs when I have a chance.

Change of Plans: Edited March 28, 11:45 a.m.

I don't think I had told you, but my pastor planned a trip to Italy for members of the parish this October. It was going to Rome, Siena, Assisi, Florence, and a couple of other places where I've never been, but always figured would be worth seeing. It would also go to Venice and Milan, where I have been. So I signed up.

But I learned a couple of days ago that with the troubles in the economy a lot of people withdrew and the trip was cancelled. So now I'm "all dressed up with no place to go." Actually, I'm thinking of a couple of possibilities. One would be to go to Prince Edward Island to visit the cousins. Another would be to go to Ireland to see where the maternal ancestors came from. A third possibility would be to go to Germany to visit my friend "Stefan" and his family and see him perform the leading role in the local festival play. This year is the 25th anniversary of our original meeting (which I still need to blog about sometime). Of course, PEI is cheap enough to get to from here (and I'd be staying with the rellies), that I could probably do that even if I also hop across the pond.

Edited to add: And I remembered this morning that my kid brother has been after me to visit him and my sister-in-law in Japan. I haven't been there since New Year's 1986.

Well, whatever I do, there should be some language study in my future. Kid brother also wants me to learn some Japanese, sent me a CD a couple of years ago for Christmas. And if I decide to go to Ireland, I'll want to know at least some basic Irish. I tried studying it some years ago and found it really wild, although at least the spelling's pretty regular, once you get the hang of it. And if I go to Germany, I'd want to brush up my German so it was back to at least the level of a stupid three-year old.