Listening to West Cork Radio

Irish people are generally partial to their home county as anyone would be about their own region. For example, I think California is better than Texas, although Texans would disagree. (Not to digress, but I think everywhere is better than Texas.)


People in Donegal often ask us what brought us here. They can't believe that Americans live somewhere so remote, and cold, and without a train. I tell them it was a "happy accident."

"But it's so cold," they say, bracing themselves for invective.

"I love Donegal," I say. "I love the wildness, the music, the culture, the people.…"

I see they are delighted.

"I love Donegal too," they admit conspiratorially, and I agree not to tell the other Americans.

"I didn't come here for the weather."

"What did you come here for?"

"I came for the dairy products."



A similar conversation with someone from Cork goes something like this:

"We're living in Kerry."

"What's wrong with Cork?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing! It's just that our friend found us a place to rent there."



"We're moving to Donegal."
"What's wrong with Cork?"
"Nothing! Nothing is wrong with Cork! We LOVE Cork. Up the Rebels! We just wanted to try something different."
"Cork is different!"
"Different from California."


Last week when I visited Cork City, a friend and I took a bus tour of West Cork. West Cork is the region of Ireland most like California. Which is why we don't live there — although we like it. We like it.


One stop on the bus tour was Clonakilty, a seaside town that popular with families on a holiday weekend. It won a "Best Town in Great Britain and Ireland" award as well. I'm sure that made them quite proud.


I was looking for some decent lip balm and hoped I could get some good stuff at The Olive Branch.





Let's take a closer look at those notices, shall we?





Energy Emotional Freedom Techniques.
Gentle Therapeutic Yoga from Unity Yoga.
Biodynamic craniosacral Therapy.
Kundalini Yoga Weekend Retreat.
Harmony Songs of Light singing workshop. (I have a feeling they won't be teaching "Come out ye Black 'n' Tans" by the Wolfe Tones)
Infinite Tai Chi.
West Cork Coffee mornings for moms.
(Behind it in the window display: echinacea tea.)





Craniosacral therapy again, "for pregnancy and beyond"
Benefits of drinking kangen alkaline water
Javanese gamelan
Sounds of Devotion: heart songs, mantras & poetry





Permaculture Design Course
Bake Sale
Dynamic Flow Yoga
Ladies' Day: Health and Exercise with pre-breakfast cardio





Protest of a 25% tax increase on vitamins supplements.

Inside the Olive Branch I found Dr. Bronner's hemp oil lip balm. I do miss my favorite Dr. Bronner's products.


The bus tour took us out to Mizen Head, the most southerly and westerly point of Ireland.





(The most northerly point of Ireland is Malin Head, about an hour away from Dunfanaghy. We've been to Malin head a few times. )

I took this movie from that bridge, and as you watch, you can see the image distorts because of wind. I was afraid I would drop my phone and I'm getting a little anxious watching it right now.

Bridge 2019

Bridge 1909

Station 1909

Station 2019

I was happy wandering around the cliffs and thrilling myself bending into the wind, but when my friend mentioned that the station had a "creepy museum with old radios" I rushed right over.


Roaringwater Journal has a nice essay about the ghosts of Mizen Head and its connection to early developments in radio. In it I learned that Guglielmo Marconi was Italian-Irish and Irish investors were the founders of his wireless telegraph company. (In the US the Italian-Americans have claimed him. )


I also learned that Cork City has a Radio Museum which I didn't know but will visit the next time I'm there. Irish people have long been innovators in long-range communication (now known as The Internet) going back to 500 AD when the Irish invented book publishing. (See also transatlantic cable of 1866)

Radio station crafts

The creepy part of the museum

Not as creepy, but weird. I will spare you a close-up of that plaster breakfast.

Dial reads "N. Ireland, Kalundborg, Midland, Welsh, Scottish, Brussels, Lyons, Paris, Vienna, Athlone."
(There's been a major military barracks at Athlone since 1691.)

This room blocked off but contained old radio gear I would have liked to see.



Diagnostic panel



Transmitter?

The tour continued after Mizen Head. The driver treated us to "Traditional Irish Music" but not the good kind. My friend and I were each sitting apart from each other at window seats so communicated by wireless telegraph. 





The tour catered to the interests of American tourists. While there are dozens of other ancient tombs in this part of Ireland, the tour stops at one off the highway called The Altar, a tomb that was used as a Mass Rock.









Interpretive signs at wedge tombs often highlight the Neolithic Farmers who built them and explain their mysterious grave offerings and cremains. This one emphasizes the persecution of a majority religion.





My friend captured me inventing Cork's next Big Thing: Wedge Tomb Yoga.







A West Cork mystic once told me that monuments like this one are ancient radio towers.


I tuned in and heard that "everything is going to be ok, just keep doing what you're doing." I still love Santa Cruz—there's nothing wrong with it—but I'm getting partial to Ireland.

#VillageLife

Our village got a new garbage can this week!

Public garbage cans are rare. One person told me this is because someone used them for bombs in The Troubles. But I think the reason is that the waste companies are private and everyone has to pay for their own garbage and recycling. (And some people would choose not to if they could drop their garbage in a public receptacle.) The companies are competitive, so they offer deals that encourage reducing your trash. 

I'm always finding odd bits of paper and wrappers in my pockets because there is never anywhere to put anything. And don't ask about the condition of our car. 

So. Thrilled to see new trashcan in front of the convenience store.

Bridget's Snow day

We went to the Tramore forest with our friend Helen and all the dogs. We met Helen about a year ago in this same forest. She was walking her two dogs Erika and Coco Michelle, and Peanut, who lives with her neighbor.



We talked about my trip seeking Sheelas, and Artemis's recent visit to Santa Cruz. We talked about four new indictments. We talked about how well Erika is doing on tramadol and how she doesn't growl at her hips anymore. We talked about those four poor boys who died in a car crash. We talked about how Pippin used to be afraid to jump over the creek, but now he jumps over with everyone. We talked about how pretty the light is. We talked about our friend and how his new hearing aid didn't arrive before his vacation. Then Helen showed Artemis the log that her grandkids pretend is a motorcycle. 

What is Pippin doing?

 


"Tramore" means "big beach" in Irish, and there are many tramore in this part of Donegal. Our tramore is just over those dunes there on the right.


The water you can see directly in front is "New Lake" which is 100 years old. New Lake formed when one end of an estuary was cut off from the sea by shifting dunes. The dunes shifted inland after their covering of grasses was removed. The grasses were removed by locals who sold them to the British Army. The Army fed the grasses to their horses in World War I.


World War I changed Ireland forever. That war brought the threat of conscription, a Home Rule Bill (suspended until war's end), the Easter Rising, and eventually the Irish War of Independence and a treaty that ended that war partitioned Ireland, cutting off Donegal from the rest of the country.




The same shifting dunes that created New Lake also silted up the Dunfanaghy harbor and ended their fishing industry. Dunfanaghy then became a tourist village. People from the North have been coming to Dunfanaghy on their summer holidays for generations, just like people from San Jose come to Santa Cruz.

Locals and tourists walk through the forest to get to the beach which is a mile from the parking lot. There's no way to drive to it. That's the best kind of beach.





Dogs: Peanut, Erika, Pippin, Coco Michelle

Humans: Artemis, Helen

Mountains: Muckish on the left and Errigal on the far right. Aghla Mor, Aghla Beg and Mackoght between them.









Pippin is still figuring out snow, so he licks it. The first thing we noticed the day we met Helen is that Peanut looks exactly like Pippin.

In the evening I went into the garden of the abandoned house at the end of our street and cut canes for Bridget's crosses. Everyone in Ireland makes them on January 31, and leaves them outside the house for Bridget to bless as she passes over the countryside on her day, Feb 1. I had always celebrated Bridget's Day on Feb 2, but maybe that's because California is 8 hours behind. Last night I left three crosses on the front steps. We had more snow, and the wind blew so fiercely Pippin hid under the bed. In the morning only two crosses remained on the steps. I guess I made one for us, one for Helen, and one for the wind. 

Sheela-na-gig legacy

A friend of mine sent me this photo of the original Starbuck's logo in Seattle, pointing out her similarity with the Sheela-na-gig.