An Irish Blessing (or two)…

Gifts of the Cliffs

We must have picked the right time of year to visit Ireland or we have arrived at many of our destinations so late in the day that we have missed the major tourist traffic, because the same thing happened to us at the Cliffs of Moher (also know as the Cliffs of Mohair).  Also located in County Clare, we arrived during the gloaming before sunset around 7:00 p.m.  Awestruck, as we often were during this trip, we hiked back and forth a good portion of its 4-mile length basking in the splendor surrounding us – the roar of the glistening ocean below us, the gulls, puffins and other birds soaring overhead, the “stillness” and “oneness” with nature in spite of the blustering wind, the crashing of the waves below us, the sheer grandeur of the cliffs from every view.  Words do not do it justice – neither do pictures, but here are a few.

Notice anything unusual about these pictures?  NO people!  Christen christened this the “Gifts of Moher.”  By arriving late, we were given the Gift of the Cliffs of Moher almost entirely to ourselves.  At most, 20 other people were wandering around the Cliffs in the early evening twilight as were we, paying homage to this spectacular gift from Mother Earth.

These magnificent cliffs, probably the most well-known tourist site in Ireland, rise from 400 feet at Hag’s Head at one end, looming to over 700 feet just north of O’Brien’s Tower (constructed in 1835 for Victorian tourists).

The attractive visitor center, completed in early 2007, is built into the contours of the hillside graciously subsisting with the beautiful Irish landscape.  We stayed for well over an hour, hiking from one end to the other, enjoying the staggering beauty of these magnificent cliffs as the sun set over this natural wonder.

The Moy House Ghost

Leaving the cliffs behind, we set out for the village of Lahinch and our guest house for the night, Moy House.  Traveling down another narrow, winding country road, we come across a small sign that said, “Moy House.”  We turn into a beautiful long, single car-width, tree-lined lane and come to a gate and a small house.

“Is this it?” Christin asks.

“Yes, this is probably a gatehouse,” I assure her.

“No, this can’t be it,” she says and turns around and heads out the driveway.  We get back on the main road and head further south.

I had printed a picture of the guest house from the internet, so I knew what it looked like.  And, the countryside was barren enough that you could see the rolling hills to the sea, so I turned my head and looked behind me as we continued down the road.  The guest house came into view.

“Christin, I’m sure that was it; go back.”

So, we turned around and went back.  We drive up to what seemed to be an unassuming one-story house, parked and walked into the unlocked front door.  It is now 9:00 p.m. and still daylight.  Around 7:30 p.m., Christin had received an email from our travel agent saying the Moy House was worried about us because we hadn’t yet arrived (our cell phones didn’t always work for calls in Ireland back then, but our email worked).  So, we told her we were at the Cliffs of Moher, so they knew to expect us late.

Anyway, no one was in site when we arrived and we called out and no one came to greet us.  There was a long, narrow circular stairway (similar to a castle turret – big surprise!) leading downstairs, so we went down and ran into Eamir, our hostess.  She greeted us, escorted us to a gigantic, beautifully furnished room – our room (of course, with the “Ricky and Lucy” twin-bed arrangement).   Then she took us on a tour of the guest house.  Each room of this 3-story home (first appearances are very deceiving!) was stunning with views all the way to the ocean.

And, she told us that it was haunted by the late daughter of a former estate manager, who had a fight with her fiancé and threw her engagement ring off of a nearby bridge.  Her ghost supposedly haunts this guest house and she searches room-by-room looking for her ring.

I’m fascinated by this story and follow Eamir closely around each room, listening attentively, paying no attention to Christin.  Back in our room, Eamir shows us a few things about the room and then she escorts us to the back entrance of the guest house so that we could move the car and not have to use the staircase again.  We unload our luggage with her help and she leaves us to settle in.

“Did you see that?” Christin asks in a frightened voice.

“What?”

“That wardrobe door opened and closed all by itself plus the light started flickering!”

“When?” I ask.

“While you were talking to Eamir.”

“No, I didn’t see anything.  You’re just freaked out because she told us there was a ghost.”

Christin has had a few “otherworldly” experiences in her past and I’ve never had any.  What I’ve had is amazing luck – luck in having something I need appear to me just when I need it.  My “luck” has taken on many different and varied examples:

• Driving into a crowded parking lot and finding a parking space near where I need to be
• Finding almost new empty boxes left beside a dumpster when I desperately needed boxes to pack to move from our condo to our new house
• Selling my aunt’s house in one-day and having it close escrow in 20 days, just in time to make the next payment at her assisted living facility when we had absolutely no more money and no other family member to borrow money from
• Having the perfect condo offered to us for rent within a week of losing our home in a wildfire
• Firefighters saving my father’s art work from our burning home, not knowing the emotional value of those pieces of art to us as a family
• Driving the winding country roads of Ireland, clueless as to our location but always arriving at our destination.

I could go on…my list is long and I’m keeping score (maybe a “42 Things the Universe Has Provided Me” post in the near future!).

Anyway, Christin decides that I’m a “lucky charm” that will keep the ghost away from her (us) and I sleep like a baby.

May joy and peace surround you,

Contentment latch your door,

And happiness be with you now,

And bless you evermore.

However, the next morning she tells me that she had a strong feeling that something was shaking my bed from the bottom and as she rolled over to look at what was happening, she couldn’t open her eyes!  It was as it something would not allow her to open her eyes.  It only lasted for a few seconds, but the feeling was so strong for her.  She thinks it may have just been a bizarre dream…

Read more on Page 9…