A TRAVEL CHAPTER
The true peripatetic philosopher is the only genuine traveller, and the
vagabond and the pilgrim are but varieties of the species. The
"personally conducted," alone or in droves, have no realization of the
unquestionable authority by which nature "sets up her boundaries and
fences; and so circumscribes the discontent of man," to borrow the words
of Sterne.
The individual who merely wants to "get there" in the shortest possible
time, and by the most direct road, knows not the joys of travel, nor
ever will.
The moods of the traveller are likewise a varied thing; circumstances
never alter cases more than when met with unexpectedly by him who
travels for business or pleasure.
With Ireland the above singularly applies.
[Illustration: THE CHIMNEY-TOPS, GIANT'S CAUSEWAY]
Similar conditions must exist in order for one to see it in just the
same phase.
The Liffey, which flows through Dublin's streets, may be dirty,
picturesque, or beautiful according to whether you view it on one part
or another.
Blarney Castle does not look as if it were made to kiss, and so some are
disappointed therein.
Cork harbour is one of the most charming landlocked waters one may see;
but, if he views it from Queenstown heights and is pestered meanwhile by
a shabby, loafing beggar for an "American nickel or dime," the onlooker
will doubtless form a mental reservation which will linger as long as
the lovely memory itself.
Killarney may, or may not, come up to his preconceived ideas, and
Slievemore, that majestic peak which towers sugar-loaf fashion quite two
thousand feet from the water's edge, may seem grim and bare where he
would have found it forest-grown. The Giant's Causeway, but for the
recollection of its various legends, might suggest something quite
different. And so the whole scheme, viewed in a pessimistic manner,
leaves no such impression as otherwise would have been the case.
For him, then, who would like his way smoothed,--his travel-routes laid
down and simplified,--the present chapter, it is hoped, will be found
acceptable.
The approach to Ireland from England is, at best, not so very
comfortable or attractive. The Holyhead mail-boats are so timed as to
accomplish remarkable regularity of passage in all weathers, but, at
times, with no little discomfort to passengers.
The crossing from Holyhead to Kingstown is the Pas de Calais over again;
with an exaggeration of length and, if possible, of boisterousness. It
lasts two and three-quarters hours, and, in any but the most temperate
mood of wind and wave, would be a good test of one's fitness for a
seafaring life. The passage from Stranraer to Larne is better, being
less than two hours and not all of that in the open sea; while from
Milford Haven to Waterford, in the south, is some six or eight hours'
journey; and that of Holyhead to Greenore, or Liverpool to Belfast, is
worse in every particular. On the whole, Holyhead--Kingstown is the
route which may best be followed, under normal conditions and
circumstances, in reaching Ireland from England.
Anglesea Island, on which is Holyhead, is the "Lands End" of North Wales
and the natural gateway for reaching Ireland, hence it is a foregone
conclusion that the route should be popular. Holyhead, itself, offers
little suggestion of the dense forests of druidical times. It is
popularly supposed to have been devastated by the Romans, who
slaughtered those pitiless hierarchs, the druids, and put an end to
human sacrifice--cutting down with sharp axes the sacred shady groves
which once dotted the island.
As the South Stack is left behind,--that beacon-light by which passes
all of that vast sea-borne traffic to and from Liverpool _via_ St.
George's Channel,--the mail-packet begins to find herself; and, in the
course of time, wind, and tide, the greensward of Dalkey and the heights
of Howth--guarding Dublin Bay on the north and south--come into view.
It has seldom, if ever, been claimed that the shores of Ireland actually
denote hospitality; in fact, it is doubtful if this be true of any land
north of tropic climes.
Dublin has not an ideal situation for a touring centre, in fact, it is
not central at all; but it is the best that offers, and is the gateway
through which by far the majority of travellers make their entrance.
Four great topographical divisions lie north, south, and west of this
gateway, and arrange themselves naturally enough along the
boundary-lines of the ancient political divisions of Leinster, Munster,
Ulster, and Connaught, which have descended in historical lore and
association from the Irish kings.
Each of these topographical divisions forms a centre of itself, and each
is equally accessible from Dublin.
In popular sentiment, the south, perhaps, stands at the head, with
Connemara and the western highlands next, and lastly the colder north.
The entire island is but three hundred miles in length by one hundred
and eighty miles in width. Naturally such a circumscribed area offers
but little difficulty for modern means of transport, and, did one but
have the time and inclination, it would be hard to find a more
entrancing journey on foot than to walk around the island along its
wonderfully picturesque coast roads.
This procedure will doubtless not be practicable to every one; but he
who is able to do so is strongly recommended to so accomplish a portion
of the round, if only that small portion which lies between Bantry and
Killarney or Clifden, in Connemara and Sligo.
If he would not tramp, he can find "car" accommodation in summer; or he
may make the journey with much pleasure by means of his bicycle, or,
more progressively, by motor-car. In any event, he will then see and
realize to the full some of the things that the average person sees only
in pictures, and reads of only in books.
It is a question as to how far the casual traveller likes to be left to
his own resources to discover new or latent beauties of landscape or
environment; but, while the spirit of adventure need not necessarily be
great in one's soul, it is unquestionably with somewhat of the feeling
that the old explorers must have had that one comes suddenly upon a
vista miles and miles in extent, with perhaps not a sign of human
habitation or of human life in any form to be noted in any direction.
There may be other populous countries of Europe where this is equally
possible, as well as Ireland, but assuredly not more so.
There is in the two localities before mentioned, and in the Donegal
Highlands, an isolation as primitive and unworldly as the mind of man,
used to the civilization of cities, can possibly conceive; and, yet, all
is within a couple of hours' ride by rail of centres of population
which, if not entitled to be classed as great cities, are resplendent
with electric-lights and under the spell of motor-cars and electric
lines.
The railway routes, generally speaking, also readily lend themselves to
this arrangement of the topographical divisions into the south, the
north, and the west. Thus one may go to Cork either _via_ Mallow, the
junction for Killarney, or _via_ the easterly coast through the "Garden
of Wicklow," Wexford, Waterford, and Youghal.
Until Cork is reached, the tourist journeys rapidly or slowly, as the
places _en route_ may or may not have an appealing interest for him;
[Illustration: THE CLIFFS OF MOHER.]
but, once Cork, or Mallow, is reached, he is put to it to decide his
future movements with something of the precision of a time-table,
depending on whether he has much or little of the well-recognized
commodity of time at his disposal.
To know and appreciate the full charm of that jagged corner of southwest
Ireland which lies between Cork harbour--whence so many sunny-spirited
Hibernians have migrated to America during the last fifty years--and
Tralee, in County Kerry, one should journey around the coast by steamer.
One week, not less, should without question be devoted to Killarney and
about there, if one would enjoy it to the full, though the week can
perhaps be made to include the tour between Dublin and Limerick, as well
as the coach trip from Bantry Bay to Killarney _via_ Glengarriff.
Another week--it can hardly be accomplished in less time--should be
passed between Limerick and Sligo, including Galway, Connemara,
Achill,--that lone peak rising from the sea,--and such of the western
highlands, in general, as it may be possible to cover in this time. A
final week, all too short, may be given to the Donegal Highlands, the
Giant's Causeway, and around the coast to Belfast, whence one completes
the round by returning to Dublin, or crossing to England by way of
Greenore to Holyhead, Belfast to Liverpool, or Larne to Stranraer.
* * * * *
Such, in brief, is the general outline of the methods which will enable
the traveller to make the round with the most economical expenditure of
time and money. In the height of the season, July and August,--one
should not, however, go anywhere in "the height of the season,"--there
are charming variations of travel by lake or river, or coasting trips by
steamer around the greater part of the island, which lend not only
variety, but offer to some a more pleasant method than even travel by
land.
The longest, and by far the best appointed, of these communications by
inland waterways is a stretch of something over a hundred miles of the
noble river Shannon,--"Our own romantic stream, green Erin's lovely
river,"--which, in conjunction with a series of beautiful lakes, extends
from Killaloe, in the south
[Illustration: McCARTHY MORE'S CASTLE.]
(near Limerick), to Dromod, in the north (near Sligo). During the summer
the journey is made in comfortable and well-appointed steamers, and
throughout is intensely interesting and full of variety. About Killaloe
the views are very fine. The mountains of Clare and of Tipperary shadow
the town on either side, and away to the north for three and twenty
miles stretches Lough Derg, crowded with islands and lined, one might
almost say, on both shores by ruined castles. From Portumna, at the head
of Lough Derg, and Banagher are the rich meadow-lands of Galway, along
which the river winds tranquilly, passing hundreds of beautiful islets,
its banks green with rich, low-lying pasture-lands. A few miles from
Shannon Bridge is Clonmacnoise, over which hang many memories of
learning, of wars, and of worship. Above Athlone the waters of Lough Ree
are entered, with its rocky shores full of indentations and its myriads
of sparkling islands--one of the loveliest prospects to be seen in
Ireland, rivalling even Killarney itself.
The actual expense of travel in Ireland is little. How could it be? The
distances are not great, and the cross-channel absurdly short, as
sea-voyages go. One may, of course, spend "anything he likes," as the
man in the streets puts it, and get no more for it than another who
disburses half as much.
The trip has, by some, been accounted an expensive one; but assuredly
such is not the case. Hence it is to be hoped that this practical
chapter, as the writer is pleased to think it deserves to be called, may
make possible to some that which was heretofore thought to be impossible
or, at least, impracticable.
What the real travel-lover wants, however, is, or ought to be, to
partake of the life of the people, to see and know truthfully how they
live, what they eat, what are their pleasures and their vocations, and
how and why they so conduct themselves. One does not tour France to eat
_tables d'hôte_ served after a conventional _menu du jour_, which is
much the same the world over, or to America or England, or to Germany or
Russia to do the same thing. What he really wants, or what he would
really like, did he but know how to get it, or were he possessed of
sufficient unconventionality, would be to eat snails in Burgundy,
bouillabaisse in Marseilles, saddle of mutton in England, baked beans
and pumpkin pie in New England, and the best of beef and hog products in
Ireland. This last may sound a bit strange, but it is a fact that the
larger number of bullocks brought to English ports for slaughter come
from Ireland, and not from the Argentine or America, as the English
fiscal reformers would have us believe.
The old though unidentified adage, "When in Rome do as the Romans do,"
should be more largely applied by all whose province and wish it is to
roam, as, for instance, "When abroad do as the natives do." Thus, when
in Ireland, keep away from the establishments which cater for the
"tripper" _pur sang_; follow the unworn track, which, perhaps, will lead
you now and then into a quandary, but which will mean no great hardship
or inconvenience, and, on the whole, will give one a far more
interesting and satisfying view-point than any other, and a knowledge of
the land and the people which is positively profound, as compared with
the usual variety.
For the rest, it is urged that the traveller, either for education or
pleasure, be forewarned and forearmed as to the possibility of time
slipping away unawares, and his not being able to accomplish all of what
he may have set forth to do. This will most likely be the case; but he
should curtail his tour abruptly and not by piecemeal, omitting, if
necessary, the northerly portion entire, and returning to Dublin from
Galway or Sligo. By no means, however, should he cut out the western
highlands, or even Achill, for here lies that which is, as yet, the part
of Ireland least known to the great mass of tourists.
It is taken for granted that he will feel that he must, happen what may,
"do" the Killarney district; and, after all, if it is the most
sentimental and daintily composed of all the land, it is not the less
appealing to him who is strong of girth and rugged in his instincts. It
is, moreover, the region wherein are to be found the most complete
"creature comforts," as civilization knows them, albeit the charges for
them may in many cases rise to heights which are unknown outside of
really fashionable tourist points. Still, in this respect, there has
been a great improvement of late, and, unless one insisted upon
surrounding himself with those more or less unnecessary adjuncts of a
metropolitan life,--which he ought to have left behind him with his
other cares,--he will find that, for simple and comfortable
accommodation, he will need to pay no more than in that Mecca of the
cheap tourist, Brittany.
The hotel accommodations of Ireland have often been reviled; but, if not
luxurious, they are at least as comfortable as in many other more
popular regions, Brittany, North Spain, or Tuscany, for instance; and,
while large and populous modern towns are not frequent, accommodations
of an acceptable character are to be found in most places where the
traveller has a right to expect them.
The many and varied elements which make Ireland attractive unconsciously
weave a spell which, mayhap, will allure many another to seek for
himself the charm of Ireland, in preference to all other neglected
tourist points. It certainly stands first and foremost as a new
touring-ground for those who would not perforce wander too far afield,
or at too remote a point from a metropolitan daily paper.
Not that the mountain fastnesses or the isolated headlands and
unfrequented lakes and loughs are always within quick communication with
more populous centres of civilization. Far from it; one may journey many
a weary hour from some remote hamlet in order to strike again the
railway which is to take him to some newer and possibly more appealing
centre of interest; and, when he reaches that same railway, or one of
its newly made tentacles, which are for ever reaching out toward new
lands to conquer, he may be forced to pass an equally lonely, though
perhaps awe-inspiring, vigil at the base of some bald, bare
mountain-peak, awaiting the main line connection which was due at this
point a couple of hours before. All of which, were one imbued with
anything but the spirit with which he ought to be imbued, might gall and
chafe, with some sense of reason, but which, for the true vagabond, even
though he may not choose to travel by foot and on the road, ought to be
the very essence of enjoyment.