My second day in Sligo began with breakfast in Molly's Diner. This thoroughly Irish breakfast was served with ambience of the American South. There were bumper stickers that said things like "American By Birth, Southern By the Grace of God" and there were pictures of other typically American things like Harley Davidsons and the cartoon '50s woman. It was all rather amusing.
Then I went to the Sligo County Museum that had rooms devoted to Countess Markievicz (heavily involved in the Easter Uprising of 1916, promoting Irish nationalism), Yeats, and other random Sligo claims to fame (like they had teeth from a whole that was beached on the county's shores). Of course, I thought the most interesting room was the Yeats room, and the most interesting thing in that room was Yeats's Nobel Prize for Literature.
After that, I went on a cruise on Lough Gill past the Isle of Innisfree, immortalized by Yeats:
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
While a beautiful poem, I think many of Yeats's other poems are even better. I really like The Second Coming and some of his poems about Maud Gonne (a political revolutionary involved in the Easter Uprising of 1916, like Countess Markievicz). Yeats loved her for years, and he proposed to her twice and was rejected both times. (She apparently preferred men of action to poets.) This poem is called No Second Troy:
Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?
On the Lough Gill cruise, we also passed Church Island with its ruins of an old Celtic monastery (think Patrick, Brigid, and Brendan). The whole area was absolutely gorgeous, and I'm bummed that none of my pictures do it justice. The lake was peppered with lovely islands and surrounded by rolling mountains, interesting rock features, and foliage in every imaginable shade of green. Because Irish weather frequently involves sun and rain at the same time, the lake reflected many different hues on its mildly choppy waves. The cruise director quoted some of Yeats's poetry and played some Irish music to further set the mood.
Before and after the cruise (for a half-hour each time), I got to visit Parke's Castle. It was rather small but still picturesque with Lough Gill and the mountains in the background. Once back in Sligo town, I visited the ruins of an abbey. They were fun to explore and find "hidden treasures" carved on the crumbling walls. That evening, I ate in a pub and had a half-pint of Guinness. (Ireland is world-renowned for its Guinness beer.) It was really strong, so it wasn't my favorite. But I can see where some people would like it because it had a rich taste and was actually quite refreshing.
The next morning (this morning, actually), I got a train back to Dublin. After checking into my hostel and arranging for a taxi to the airport tomorrow morning, I went to the James Joyce Centre. It had a few interesting artifacts of Joyce's life and it had quite a bit of good infomation on Joyce and his works (especially Ulysses) and on the publication of Ulysses (different editions, the controversy the book caused, etc). The best item the museum had was the actual door from No. 7 Eccles Street, the house where the Blooms lived in Ulysses and where Joyce's friend lived in real life. I touched the door knocker, thinking how Joyce had assured it touched it as well about a century ago.
Next, I went to the Dublin Writers' Museum which had quite a good audio guide and collection of artifacts from a ton of Irish writers, some of whom I hadn't even heard of before. I decided for the second time in my life that I need to learn more about the Irish Literary Revival, connected with Lady Augusta Gregory, Yeats, and the Abbey Theatre. Then I went to Merrion Square, which is a nice park surrounded by houses where a lot of writers lived, including Yeats and Oscar Wilde. There was also a clever memorial to Wilde in the park with a lot of his best quotes written on it.
And that, my friends, concludes not only my time in Ireland but also my time in the British Isles (for this trip, at any rate). It's been such a good trip and I can hardly believe it's coming to an end. But I really can't afford to keep travelling, so I better go home and find a paying job. That will be kind of exciting but I'm sure it will feel mundane and boring after a while. (Probably a short while.) But I'm trying to learn to enjoy whatever I'm currently experiencing instead of always dwelling on the future. So for now, it's on to Washington D.C. and a much-anticipated visit with Ann!
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