Tag Archives: serendipity

Serendipity

Posted on by

2

in the village of Adare

Our last day in County Limerick and the sun was glorious. The most beautiful spot in Limerick to be outdoors on such a fine day? The village of Adare, hands down.

Adare, acknowledged by many as the prettiest village in Ireland, was directly on our path from our last Airbnb on the Dingle Peninsula to the one we’re in now, outside of Limerick. I had intended to stop in transit and spend the day. I have vague memories as we drove through of people sitting outside at sidewalk cafes having lots more fun than I was having hunkered down in the passenger seat of the car clutching my barf bag. “Do you want to stop?” Marcus asked. “Mmph,” I replied. We drove on.

St. Nicholas Church

Remember that blog about backtracking if you can? [Backtracking in the Wicklow Mountains] So, four days later, back we went.

Do you ever have those serendipitous moments when everything just seems to align? Well, our return to Adare was one of those. The main street was quite congested when we arrived, and we had to circle through town twice before the perfect parking space appeared right before our eyes. As I got out of the car, I looked up to see a wee craft shop with some children’s toys out front. The chance of it offering anything I would want to buy was slim, but there was something about the way my car door opened right onto the path to the shop and the crumbling, white-washed wall beside it with little purple flowers growing out of its crevices….

The shop was a cooperative run by the artists whose wares were featured. I love that! Let’s just say I found a few things I wanted to buy, but I also had the most captivating conversation with Keri, the artist on duty that day. She is a potter who makes little bottles used to collect water from holy wells. [Irelands Sacred Water]

We’ve seen signs for these holy wells all over Ireland—hundreds of them—natural springs that were discovered in pre-Christian days and used as sites for pagan rituals. St. Patrick, who brought Christianity to Ireland, was smart to incorporate them into the new religion. Rather than condemning them as pagan clap-trap, he ordained them as holy wells, thereby engaging more pagan converts.

For centuries travelers have sought out holy wells for healing purposes. Not only do they drink and collect the waters, but many soak a piece of cloth in them and tie the cloth on an inflicted part of their body. Before leaving the well, they tie the cloth to an overhanging tree branch. As the rag decomposes in the elements, the infliction ostensibly dissipates. 

I love the folklore, and I love that the Irish can make room in their hearts for their ancient past while respecting their current religious foundations. They have an incredible heritage. Perhaps this is the reason I was brought here today.

  • walk along the River Maigue
  • Desmond Castle ruins
  • a true milestone

Love at first sight

Posted on by

2

St. Colman’s Cathedral

What is it about tall church spires that make me weak in the knees? When I first saw the Salisbury Cathedral spire in England six years ago, I couldn’t get it out of my head. I had the eeriest feeling that I had seen (dreamt of?) it before. It inspired me to read The Spire, a dark little novel by William Golding about the building of the cathedral—not the uplifting paean to Early English architecture I was hoping for, but then again he also wrote Lord of the Flies.… 

The day we arrived in Cobh, we crested a hill, descended into the heart of the town, and there it was: the ridiculously tall and blatantly gothic spire of St. Colman’s Cathedral, perfectly framed by the buildings on either side of the street and the water of Cork Harbor as a backdrop. As luck would have it, our apartment is right around the corner, with a balcony and double French doors that look out over the cathedral and harbor.

Salisbury’s spire rises 404 feet above flat marshland. The vertical rise is astonishing, but you get that perspective best from a distance.

In Cobh, the spire is a mere 325 feet high, but the cathedral is built on the side of a hill. Its foundation is another 121 feet above sea level. So the spire looms 446 feet above the harbor just beyond it.

And (did I mention?) it’s right outside my window!

St. Colman’s is the first thing I look for each morning—even before my first sip of coffee (there’s not much I look for before coffee)—and the last thing I gaze upon each night. We leave the lights off in our apartment at night and watch the sky darken and the cathedral illuminate itself. What is handsome and regal by daylight becomes drop-dead gorgeous at night. I’m besotted!

A walk in the clouds

Posted on by

0

the AT

Had to hike a (wee) bit of the Appalachian Trail, just to say I did. It was a captivating weather day as the clouds drifted in and out around us at 5500+ feet above sea level on the North Carolina/Tennessee line.

clouds drifting in

 

the view, in a clear moment

 

with our friend, host, guide, driver, and all-around nice guy, Marc

 

the Parkway

Posted on by

4

Banner day on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Perfect weather after days of rain from the fringes of Hurricane Michael.

Construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway was started in 1935 in Franklin D. Roosevelt’s administration as a project of the Public Works Administration. The majority of it was completed by 1966, but the final piece–the viaduct around Grandfather Mountain in western North Carolina–was not opened to traffic until 1987. Part of our National Park system, it is America’s longest linear park and connects Shenandoah National Park in Virginia on the north end to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in North Carolina on the south end–469 miles along the backbone of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

You know how I love my superlatives! We summited Mount Mitchell–a grueling 5-minute hike from the parking lot. ;o) Gorgeous views from the top.

blue ridges

 

Mid-October and the leaves are just starting to turn–quite late here. Word is that this fall won’t be very colorful. The temps have been in the 80s until recently, and now it’s too late for most of the leaves to turn. Green leaves are starting to fall.

Crabtree Falls–a rewarding two-hour hike from the parking lot

Hot bar!

Posted on by

2

The Fire Bar at Hawkeye’s

Recommended by our hosts at the B&B: The Fire Bar at the Hawkeye Bar & Grill at Cooperstown’s Otesaga Resort Hotel. Perfect spot to chill with a glass of wine, a bite to eat, and maybe even a game of bocce on the lawn, if you’re not too mesmerized by the view. 

The Otesaga Resort Hotel is located at the south end of Otsego Lake in the Village of Cooperstown, New York, and hearkens back to the day when people from the City spent their summers at grand hotels such as this. 

 

James Fenimore Cooper referred to Otsego Lake as Glimmerglass in his Leatherstocking Tales, a series of five novels featuring the character Natty Bumppo, also known as Hawkeye in The Last of the Mohicans, one of the Leatherstocking Tales. The lake also happens to be the source of the Susquehanna River, the 16th largest river in the United States, according to Wikipedia.

It’s no coincidence that Cooper’s stories took place in the area around Cooperstown. His father founded the village, and James grew up in what was then a 19th-century frontier town.

the sun setting on Glimmerglass (Otsego) Lake

The weather was perfect on this particular evening, a cloudless, late-spring promise of blissful summer days ahead. As the sun set we drew our chairs closer to the fire and watched for dugout canoes gliding silently across the Glimmerglass.

On the Homestretch

Posted on by

2

the Homestretch B&B

As we rounded Niagara, we entered the homestretch on our counterclockwise lap around Lake Ontario. We’ve driven from Greenwich, Connecticut, up the Hudson River Valley to Hyde Park and Lake Placid, across the St. Lawrence River into Ontario, through the 1000 Islands region to Toronto and Niagara. Now we’re back in New York, crossing the Finger Lakes region and the Catskills to return to Greenwich. I was looking for a place to stay in the Finger Lakes region and recalled an article I’d read about Cooperstown, New York. Yes, we all know it as a mecca for baseball fans because of the Hall of Fame, but the article asserted that the village is a destination in its own right. So I found us a B&B just outside of Cooperstown. Appropriately, it’s called the Homestretch B&B.

The Homestretch is owned by a lovely couple. He raises thoroughbred racehorses on their 105-acre farm, refurbishes antique homes (including their own), and is a master carpenter and artist. She is an executive assistant in the local hospital network and runs the B&B, in what precious free time is left in her week. Their two grown children are on their own, so they converted the family home into this perfectly pastoral retreat.

From herbed baked eggs and French toast for breakfast on the side porch to lazy evenings with a nightcap by the fire pit, this was the ideal way to wind down our trip.

the fire pit

bonus: dogs! Bailey & Bud

 

Geek alert!

Posted on by

0

elevation changes between the Great Lakes

Only two full days in the Niagara area, and the best-weather day will be at the Falls. What to do on the other?

A question came up in the car on our drive from Toronto to St. Catharines, Ontario, where we are staying in the Niagara region: If the Great Lakes Waterway connects the five Great Lakes, allowing navigation from the westernmost lake, Superior, to the easternmost lake, Ontario, and on through the St. Lawrence Seaway to the Atlantic Ocean, how do ships bypass the falls on the Niagara River? The Niagara is the natural connection between Lake Erie and Lake Ontario. [Is it just us, or do other people have conversations like this in the car? A friend just shakes her head when I tell her these things and admonishes, “This is what happens when engineers intermarry.”]

ship entering Lock 3

Marcus had read that there is a manmade canal across the Niagara isthmus that was built to handle maritime traffic. I checked the road map. Sure enough: The Welland Canal connects the two lakes.

Why had I never heard of this canal? With its eight locks, it descends the Niagara escarpment from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario—100 meters* overall. It is the greatest elevation change between any two adjacent Great Lakes. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a canal that drops 100 meters over 43 kilometers in length. How is that possible? Guess where we’re going on our extra day? 

*Note: We’re in Canada now, so I’m using metric units. If Jimmy Carter had had his way, the US would be using the metric system today, just like our neighbors to the north and almost everyone else everywhere. As it is, we are one of only three countries in the world that insist on using “traditional” units, the other two being Burma and Liberia. Seriously? [Sorry. Rant over.]

front gate of the lock holding back water

 

back gate closing behind ship

It turns out that the Welland Canal is the town line between St. Catharines and Niagara-on-the-Lake, so we didn’t have to drive far. We arrived at Lock 3 just as a ship was pulling in from the Lake Erie side. And it just barely fit! We stayed to watch the whole process, until the ship was on its way at the lower level to Lock 2 an hour and a half later.

maneuvering out of the lock at the lower level

After checking out the Welland Canal Museum, which is very conveniently located at Lock 3 and very well curated, we drove up the Niagara escarpment to Locks 4, 5, and 6. This is the steepest part of the grade, and the three locks–one right after another–climb the escarpment like watery steps. 

Locks 4, 5, and 6 (courtesy of Google Earth)

Kudos to the engineers who built all four of the Welland Canals, from the original canal with its 40 manual locks in 1829 to the current canal utilizing eight hydraulic locks in 1932.

We were just wandering…

Posted on by

0

After leaving Yonge-Dundas Square, we continued our meander toward the waterfront. We stopped in at the Craft Beer Market for a snack and came across this unusual appetizer: fast-food sushi. Cheeseburger and fries wrapped in bacon, topped with a pickle. Barbecue sauce for seasoning. We couldn’t resist the novelty of it.

Toronto has a love/hate relationship going on with raccoons. Apparently, they’re running rampant, getting into residents’ trash and generally wreaking havoc, as these crafty little bandits are wont to do. They have become a counterculture icon for Toronto: you’re either for them or against them. Personally, I love raccoons. What’s not to love about a bandit that brings its own mask to the party?

I’m also a sucker for funny signs. We had to try out the Bier Markt just because the sign above their door made us laugh. Nothing funny about their charcuterie, however. It was delicious! It’s amazing what you find just by wandering.

Goodbye, Toronto! We will miss you, but it’s time to move on to the impetus for this trip: Niagara!

#turbanup

Posted on by

2

Yonge-Dundas Square

On our last day in Toronto, we wanted to get out and walk this city we’ve grown to love. Normally when we stay in one location for a week, we take at least one day off from exploring to catch up on laundry, pay bills, and generally take a break from sightseeing. But something about Toronto draws us outdoors. Perhaps it’s the compact size. Toronto is a very walkable city, especially from the location of our apartment in Church-Wellesley—almost downtown, yet with the feel of a quiet suburb. We love discovering the personalities of each of Toronto’s neighborhoods from our hub. And after living in our quiet little hamlet of Stuart for most of the year, the city offers such variety. We feel like kids in a candy store! Or perhaps it’s the amazing weather we’ve had this week. Who could sit indoors when the sunshine beckons from our floor-to-ceiling windows?

We didn’t really have a destination, so we headed toward the Harbourfront, where we seem to end up in our wanderings every day anyway. It was an overcast Sunday—not much going on as we headed downtown, except for a queue snaking through Allan Gardens, people waiting to buy cacti and succulents at the greenhouse. Must have been some sale!

We chose Yonge-Dundas Square, Toronto’s unofficial hub, as a waypoint. We were struck by the energy in the square when we visited a few days before and wondered what might be going on there this sleepy Sunday. Nothing sleepy about the square this morning! We arrived just in time for #turbanup. 

Sikh for a day

The Sikh community was out en masse to educate the public about who they are, what they believe, and why they wear those colorful turbans, or Dastaar as they call it. Sikhi, the fifth largest religion in the world, originated in the 15th century in the Punjab region of India. Guru Nanak Dev Ji taught that all people are from the same creator, regardless of social status, gender, or religion. Because there is no difference between royalty and anyone else, everyone should wear a crown, or Dastaar, as a constant reminder of a person’s value and importance, and also as a reminder of their personal, daily obligation to take care of other people.

Today everyone was invited to turban up. There were tables and tables of fabric in every color and shade imaginable, and experts to help you wrap it in whichever style you chose, be it farmer, warrior, or raj. They also provided lively music and a Sikh-style community banquet. Free food for all is an everyday practice at all Gurdwaras, Sikh temples. 

community banquet

We had an enlightening discussion with a young, Sikh woman, and enjoyed watching everyone—Sikh and otherwise—participating in the festivities. Did I mention? I love this city!