Monday, August 20. 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007 Waking to the sound of wind blowing through the trees outside my window, I opened my eyes to glance out at the evergreens rocking back and forth. The air smelled clean and fresh but was slightly damp due to the morning rain. It was a magnificent Happy-Birthday morning.
With my room being as large as a small gym, I had plenty of room to do my morning stretches, not having to crowd myself or use the space on top of the bed. It had an affluent feeling being able to stand before the large window looking out into the garden.
After preparing myself for the day, I sat on the couch to proof read my entry for yesterday, while adding some more information to spice it up. For some reason I did not feel too motivated at getting my work done last night, and decided to relax in my room instead. I did manage to upload my photographs however, which was the most time consuming use of connectivity.
A light rapping was heard on my door at around a quarter past eight, and it was Peter with my breakfast tray full of items I had listed on the menu card, having posted it on the outside of my door last night. Wanting to spend the maximum amount of time in my little palace, I thought having my breakfast in the room would be a delightful touch. Still dressed in my bedroom slacks, it was fun to sit on the comfortable sofa while eating a full breakfast.
After getting my work uploaded and it seemed that all was set, I decided to check out before noon so as to give me plenty of time for the drive back south to Tralee for my stay at the Ballyseede Castle. Once the car was loaded, I checked out and paid my bill, which was remarkably low considering the elaborate room and service. The room cost €170 for the night, which was much less than I had expected. It was a pleasant surprise, and made me think that when I return to the Connemara, the Ballynahinch was to be my accommodation of choice.
As I was leaving the Connemara, I noticed that there were several hub caps along the road, and supposed it was because of the rough nature of the asphalt, which had jostled me around on the way out yesterday. It was a surprise that one of my hub caps was not among the other casualties. Perhaps we can make an index to indicate a road’s degree of roughness, calling it the hub-cap factor. Having said that, I’d give this road a “10”, as that appeared to be the number of hub caps I saw on the road today.
I also noticed something unique to the area and thought that perhaps that was why there were so many loose sheep along side the road. Throughout all of Ireland, with exception of the Connemara, the livestock pens had been enclosed with stone walls. Here, however, the pens were enclosed with wire field-fencing, and in some areas the fencing was either fallen or in disrepair. Having noted before while staying at the Dundrum House in Armagh, sheep are skilled escape artists and will stop at nothing to get to the greener side of the fence.
Being a Monday and at the tail end of tourist season, it seemed that everybody and their mother was on the road. The drive for me was a series of slow trains, being pulled by everything from tractors and trucks to reluctant car drivers and bicyclists. It took me five and a half hours to go from the Ballynahinch Castle to Tralee, covering 310 kilometers. I was told later that I had made the trip in average time. Unfortunately, that did not make me feel any less tired.
As I pulled up to the Ballyseede Castle, it seemed that despite my arrival at 4pm, it still looked somewhat void of cars and made me think that it was still early. Parking at the entrance to ready the car for offloading, I walked up the front steps and went inside.
Entering the foyer, I saw a registration desk with a guest book, but no staff members in sight. Toward the back and down some stairs I found the Reception Desk, which was actually a small office with a windowed counter. Looking through the window, I noticed a disorganized mess but no people. There was a buzzer on the wall beside the window that said “Ring for Service”, so I did. The sound of crickets seemed to enter my mind, as there was no response.
After a few minutes, a woman dressed in staff uniform appeared from across the foyer. Upon getting her attention, I asked if anyone was working in the reception office. As she walked passed me and entered the office, she said, “I guess… I am.”
After giving my name, she was able to find my reservation on a cluttered desk in the adjoining office. Grabbing the key for my room, she asked me to follow her. As we were ascending the staircase, I noticed the finely finished hand rails and the many oil paintings of people from different backgrounds and periods. I wondered if it was a family album of the previous residents, as the castle was sold to hoteliers in the late 1900s after having been a family home for the Blennerhassetts since 1590.
Once we got up to the third level, she walked over to a door that faced into the staircase area. A small sign was on the door to identify the chamber as being the Shaw Room. There were a couple of short steps up to the door, and it made me think that they were what I called “Gotcha steps” as they would “getcha” if you weren’t paying attention. After some difficulty, she got the door open and revealed a room that was not near the grandness of the one I had at Ballynahinch.
It was bigger than most of my former B&B rooms, but it did not measure up to the palace I had last night. There was a double bed, a wardrobe and small dresser and a tiny chair. The windows overlooked the elegant sitting area in the back lawn, and allowed a cool breeze to flow through the room.
It was nice none the less, and I was happy to have it. It just seemed a little anti-climatical, and I thought that it would have been better to have stayed here before my visit to the Ballynahinch Castle. Oh well, it was much better than a B&B and much more comfortable.
As we left the room and headed back downstairs, I asked her some questions about the offerings at the castle. At no time did she offer me the types of services that had been presented to me by my porter at the Ballynahinch, and I felt a little short changed from the apparent inattention to my needs. She did not even offer to send someone to help me with my baggage. It was a big let down from yesterday’s experience.
Once I hauled my belongings up to my room, I grabbed the camera to do the big walkabout to gather some cool photographs. Along with the fabulous looking building, there were many antiques and decorations found throughout the various chambers. What really got my attention were the suits of armor. Upon examining them closely, I noticed that the armor protected everything except the knight’s backside. I was sure there was some trivia associated with that discovery.
Once back in my quaint room, I relaxed on the bed and refined my entry from yesterday in preparation for uploading. I had noticed that they had a computer workstation set up on the lower floor and that it had a USB port available for my memory stick, which made for a way to easily upload my data. There was also a phone in the room which I could use for dial-up purposes, but it was my intention to use that for email only.
With an hour before the dining room would open, I went down to the dungeon to use the coin-operated computer to upload my text and organize the entry’s photographs. The machine cost €1 per eight minutes of usage, which I found to be a higher rate than any internet café I had used to date. It also claimed to provide broadband connectivity, but its sluggish performance told me either the machine was in need of file maintenance or it was designed to be slow. Having put in enough coin to get me to dinner time, I did what I could and resigned myself to the thought of using a dial-up connection in my room to finish it up.
Entering the dining room, I found it to be quite ornate and very elegant with all the antique furnishings. I had thought that the castle was an antique collector’s Disneyland, with room after room of well aged treasures.
Standing there with no one else in the room, I wondered if the castle’s staff had taken a holiday, leaving me to fend for myself. After a minute, a young woman in staff uniform walked into the room and looked at me like I was the creature from the black lagoon. She had two other guests with her and escorted them to a table and asked them to take a seat. Quickly, I glanced at the mirror to see what could have possibly alarmed her.
Turning back to her, I asked if the dining room was open. She nodded and I asked where she wanted me to sit. Waving her hands, she directed me to sit where I wanted. As I took my seat at a two-person table near the window, I thought that she must be new and had not received training in fine dining. As a matter of fact, she seemed a little apprehensive with the use of speaking English, having noticed a Slavic accent.
Coming back with a bread plate and some water, she put the items on my table and took my order, having left a menu with me upon my sitting down. When that was done, she disappeared once again. It seemed that she was a staff-of-one for the dining room, which was another burn after having such a wonderful fine dining experience yesterday.
She did well at keeping up with the two tables’ needs but had there been a full room, she would have been quickly overwhelmed. As I sat at my table, a group of a dozen or more people came into the foyer. A small bus pulled up to the entrance and they all boarded it, appearing to be heading off for dinner. It seemed that the minimal staffing in the dining room may have been planned as it seemed that our two parties were the only patrons left in the castle.
After enjoying my four courses, which concluded with an apple-blueberry crumble with ice cream, I felt my birthday dinner was complete, and thanked Kate as I returned to my chamber to retire for the evening. As I entered the foyer, I noticed a large furred carpet lying atop another more elegant patterned carpet in front of the fireplace. After a closer examination, the furred carpet was actually a large dog which had seemed to be dead but was resting very peacefully, ignoring any comment I made.
Telling the animal not to move on my behalf, I ascended the stairs to head back to my room. As I was climbing the stairs, I wondered how the next few days would transpire, leaving much room for planning. It seemed that after tomorrow, it was going to be a day-to-day operation.
Hopefully I will hear something from Geraldine, who worked at the Aer Lingus ticket counter, about my status for flying out on Thursday. With tomorrow night’s planned event of Irish Nights to cap off my vacation in Ireland, it seemed fitting to be heading back home soon thereafter and not have to wait until next Monday. Should it not happen, at least it will give me more chances at visiting Skellig Michael. Unless of course, the bloody Leprechauns find a way to screw that up too!
NEWS FLASH: The Aer Lingus Pilots canceled the strike. I’m coming home as planned.
To see more photographs related to this post go to the Photo gallery and click on the link for “Ballyseede Castle.”
