The Hills: Slane and Tara

Today, since we were off work for Good Friday, we decided to do a bit of sightseeing.

The first was to the Hill of Slane. Seen above, it's a hill covered with graves and the remains of a monastery. It's famous for being the site of Saint Patrick's arrival in Ireland, where on Easter in 433 he lit a fire symbolizing the arrival of truth to the Isle. It's a moving and meaningful place, peaceful and with grand views of the surrounding countryside. After touring the site, we sat and had a nice picnic lunch.

Then we tried a trip to Newgrange. Since it's the Irish Stonehenge, we thought it would be worthwhile. Unfortunately, all the tours were booked so we couldn't see it. But instead of heading back in a mope, we decided to take a detour.

Then we headed off to the Hill of Tara. Famous as the home of the High King of Ireland, it mostly resembles a well-kept golf course covered in sheep poo, with earthworks, hillocks and trenches where the forts once stood. Remains have been dated from the Stone Age well into the Christian era, so it was continuously occupied for thousands of years. There's not much to see, but we did spend some time around "The Mound of the Hostages". Used as a burial site as well as a jail, it was created nearly 5000 years ago.

After walking back from the Hill of Tara, we noticed a signpost directing us to a Holy Well. It's worth knowing that holy wells are scattered all over Ireland, many of them still visited by locals who seek healing or a connection to their faith. Driving down a country lane we found a well, set about twenty yards from the road, and a noticeboard describing the well's history. Though pre-dating the Christian era, it's supposed to have been used by Saint Patrick for baptism. Thinking it couldn't do him any harm, I knelt at the well (which was cut into the side of a hill), dipped my right hand in the water, crossed myself, and then washed Erin's stomach with the water (which was beautifully clear and cold). Whether you think I baptised the sprout or just gave him a bath, I was pleased and Erin didn't seem to mind. It seems appropriate for Good Friday. 

Second Photo of the Baby

This week we went to the maternity clinic for our second visit. This was routine except that we got the first high-resolution photos of Cletus the Fetus, aka “The Sprout”, aka “Mini-Manatee”, aka “The Bump”, aka “Him, He, the Boy. Etc” (no, we don’t know the sex, I’m just convinced it’s a boy). Erin’s sure it’s a girl.





In case you’re wondering, the head is to the right. You’re looking at a side profile of the baby from the left, though there’s a slight bump of nose just visible. The bright white area at the bottom of the baby is the spine and toward the left you can see the feet curled up. We heard the heartbeat (nice and steady) but Cletus is already being a brat. At the beginning of the scan he wiggled a bit, but then everything Erin and the ultrasound tech did couldn’t make him/her move again. He/she just sat there, clearly very comfortable, not very interested in the goings-on outside.

We’ve had a lot of questions about how Erin’s doing through all this. Basically her symptoms can be broken down into a few categories:

1. Fatigue. She’s tired. Boy, is she tired. She’s gone to bed as early as 7pm lately.
2. Smells – she’s smells things very clearly. So minestrone soup, windshield wiper fluid, wine, and even water smell bad to her.
3. Queasy – she hasn’t gotten sick, but she has had an upset stomach now and again.

And one person has asked how I’m doing through all this. Basically, my symptoms can be broken down into a few categories:

1. Hungry – I don’t know why, but I am absolutely hungry all the time, which is a problem.
2. Chores – I’ve gotten very good at cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, etc. With my wife asleep in bed I can get things done.
3. Wide awake – lately I’ve been up at 1am most nights. (it's 12.06 am as I type).

We’re having some luck with baby odds and ends. Courtesy of some friends, we’ve already had a car seat and stroller donated to us. Some clothes have arrived and I bought a highchair in a fit of confusion about what was needed in the baby’s first few weeks. We also have a collection of stuffed toys already, including the Eeyore I chewed on as a baby, a Peter Rabbit I bought in London for Erin, and a Loch Ness Monster I picked up in Scotland.

But the message for all is that we’re doing well, Erin and the sprout are fine, but we miss you and hope all’s well in your neck of the woods.

A Day in Belfast

With weather, Erin's pregnancy fatigue, and Brian's constant hovering, long trips aren't on the agenda right now. So on April Fool's Day, we took a drive up to Belfast to see, in no particular order: a fantastic saloon, cheap shopping, amazing seafood, outstanding local beer, a brilliant cathedral, and a huge fish.

So, to take them in order:

A fantastic saloon. I never expected to find a saloon in Belfast. But with swing doors, gas lighting, and Victorian etched glass windows, it's as traditional a saloon as you'll find in any Western town. Owned by the National Trust, the Crown Liquor Saloon is very impressive, with mosaics, wood carvings, outstanding stained glass, and plaques that describe bombings during The Troubles. Worth a trip for lunch.

Cheap shopping. Belfast is more a working-class town than Dublin, so even though the selection is good, the prices aren't as high. Erin bought her first maternity clothes here!

Amazing seafood. I had a fish that was new to me. Called "pollen," it's unique to four Irish lakes and is found nowhere else in the world. On the plate, it looks like a large herring, but has a very mild, gentle flavor and texture.

Outstanding local beer. I'm always depressed by Irish beer selections, having grown up with the variety of real ales you'll find across England. In ROI pubs you'll get Guinness and Smithwick's, neither of which are true Irish beers anymore -- both are owned by a Spanish company called Diageo. But in Belfast I had a pint of the Belfast Ale, made at the Whitewater Brewery in County Down. Slightly sour, malty, with a strong scent of hops, not too much alcohol and a good color, I was delighted.

A brilliant cathedral. My compliments to St. Anne's Cathedral, which is Victorian but has a strongly progressive feel and clearly a lively congregation. The chapels are decorated with astonishing mosaic work, and the church itself is used as a venue for arts festivals and exhibitions. It felt like a living, breathing place of worship.

Finally, Brian had to kiss a huge fish.

That's right. A huge fish.

So you don't believe us? Well, look at the photo.