Wicklow, farewell Ireland, and reflections

 Day 1 - Tue 27 Oct - Treetops, slides and yarns

We have three activities to schedule into three days.  The weather is improving, but we can expect showers today, so the Avondale Forest Park gets the nod.  We've done the Rotorua treetop walk, and the one in Capilano last month.  So why not complete the trip with another one?

We're 20m above the ground here, and the extension walkways for kids are great for big kids too.  A bit like the glass panels on the floor of the Sky Tower viewing platform.  Wish the grandkids were here!

There's a viewing tower even higher at 38m, with great panoramas out over the Wicklow area.  Even from this height I'm surprised there's not a single wind turbine to be seen.  There is, however, a very attractive set of panels nestled in the landscape which can barely be seen at ground level.  This is the Ballycooleen Solar Farm, pumping out around 8MW on a sunny day.

It's a fair climb to the top, and Pauline's knee is giving her jip.  Downhill walking aggravates it, and she's wondering if there's an alternate way down.

Yup!

Now the grandkids wish they were here too!  It's a lot of fun, but over before you know it.

We're at the Avondale Forest Park, so needless to say there are plenty of signboards explaining the different tree species and how important forestry is, including a novel approach in demonstrating carbon capture.  

By flying to the British Isles and back, Pauline and I contribute about 16 tonnes of CO₂ to the atmosphere, including high altitude effects.  Driving around England and Ireland adds another tonne for petrol.  17 tonnes all up.  What does that look like?  Well here's one tonne of it.

I'll tag some of the natives Jim and I have planted on the Waitoa riverbank to compensate.  Of course our solar/battery system at home is contributing to the offsets too.  While we're away the house is only drawing around 700W keeping the comms, fridge/freezers and lights on.  With 16kW of panels we're net-exporting an average of 70kWh a day.  With a bit of arbitrage thrown in to capitalise on peak hour FITs the house is earning $50/week.  Sadly it won't pay for the trip, or even the lawn mowing contractor, but it means we won't be paying a power bill till late autumn, and we're keeping a bit of water behind the hydro dams for when the country needs it.

The simple upshot?  Invest in renewable energy to reduce emissions, decarbonise, and plant trees (preferably natives) to soak up the CO₂ we're pumping into the atmosphere.  It's worrying CO₂ levels continue to climb decades after the warming effects were known.  In fact Arrhenius' 1896 paper first predicted and quantified it.  Basic physics.  And all our idiot Government has done is to wind back decarbonisation incentives, weaken emissions standards on ICE imports, and weaken our response to the Paris accords.

If we tackle decarbonisation full on it'll cut us some slack on our biogenic methane emissions - a harder nut to crack.  NZ farmers are already the most methane-efficient in the world, but any improvements can be turned into a greater competitive advantage.  A methane molecule has a potent warming effect whether it comes from a natural gas well, a landfill, a paddy field or a cow - steadily improve the latter through more R&D and consumers the world over will select us.  Dairy in particular as it's difficult to displace with alternatives, unlike beef.

Of course climate change won't worry me much.  I'll be dead by the time the worst effects hit.  But Liam, Sam and Emily - can I offer an apology in advance from my generation to yours.  You and your children will be suffering the consequences of the scientifically illiterate climate change deniers who hold sway at the moment.  The Trump administration is a case in point.  Fingers crossed for a mid-term blue wave in both the Congress and Senate.  Then impeachment to remove the orange skid mark from the White House.

It's just 10 minutes down the road to the Avoca Woollen Mill.  There's been a mill operating on the banks of the River Avoca since 1723 when local sheep farmers formed a cooperative.  The mill really took off in 1927 when the Wynne sisters took over, introducing bold designs and vibrant new colours, supplying royalty and European fashion houses.  There was a bit of a downturn in the 1970s when synthetic fibres threatened the business, but they've since refocussed on high quality natural fibre products occupying a top end niche.  Their biggest market now?  Surprisingly, Shanghai.  There are a lot of very wealthy Chinese who spurn commodity products and seek out the best there is.

One of Avoca's master weavers gives us a working demonstration on a 1920s vintage loom.

It's no longer used for production, but their apprentices are trained on it so they can better understand the weaving process and diagnose issues with the more automated machines.

Even then, these machines are hardly new.  Precision German engineering from the 1980s, which Avoca can maintain themselves.  Very little computer technology here - the patterns are read from punch cards.

If Pauline lies down on the loom she'll disappear!

Back via the Devil's Glen wood, but with daylight saving ended it's getting really dark in the late afternoons, so we don't have time for a decent walk.  My chat with the Devil will have to wait another day.

But we do need to pick up supplies for dinner, so pop in to the artisan butcher in Roundwood.  A nice Wagyu striploin steak perhaps?

Nearly €20 for 200g.  That's $200/kg.  We pass and buy chicken.

I take issue with their bumper stickers for sale too.

Being vegan?  Not being super rich qualifies too.

Our BnB is great, but there's a little problem with the wifi.  There's a Starlink dish on the roof so bandwidth and reliability are excellent, but they've set the SSID up as an open network without a password.  No doubt as a "convenience" for guests, but it does expose guest devices and comms to attack.  In the most helpful way possible, I yet again provide some consultancy advice on good ICT security practice.  No problems for us as I set up a VPN on arrival, but other guests will likely be oblivious to the risk and ways to mitigate them.  Hosts need to do better.

Two days and two attractions to go.  A bit of planning to do.

Day 2 - Glendalough

You'd think that with all the abbeys, cathedrals, churches, towers and graveyards we've seen that it was about time to call it quits.  But there's one more historic attraction to see which brings them all together - a 6th-century monastic city founded by St Kevin in Glendalough.  That it's set into a glacial valley with lakes, waterfalls and forested walks with autumn colours is an added bonus, if not the main attraction.

As well as the natural water and timber resources, there were also extraordinarily useful mineral deposits.

A bit hard to read, but that's granite, slate, schist, quartz and galena (lead sulphide), which normally includes small amounts of silver too.

With all its natural resources, the settlement flourished and grew over a 600 year period.  But like many wealthy monasteries in Ireland, Glendalough suffered Viking raids between the 8th and 10th centuries, and English forces attacked and devastated the settlement in 1398, leaving it a ruin.

The Round Tower survived largely because it was extraordinarily robustly built.

The doorway is over 3m above the ground, making it an excellent defensive structure once the wooden access ladder was withdrawn.  I idly wonder what graveyards would look like if Christ had been hanged or beheaded.

Pauline's knee is manageable so we set off on a 6km walk, taking in delightful streams,

the Poulanass waterfall,

the autumn colours and the lakes

where an added bonus is a pianist on the shore to round off an excellent day.

That just leaves one attraction to assign to our final full day.

Day 3 - Irish National Stud & Gardens

We're off to Kildare, a bit over an hour west.  This one is all Pauline, though I'm keen to discover some zen in the Japanese garden.

Pauline is a horsey person.  I'm not.  I was in the 6th Form (Y12) when part of our extra-mural activities included horse riding.  Having had a couple of years experience on a motor bike by then, I just couldn't get the hang of the go (nudge in the ribs), more go (firmer nudge in the ribs), turn (pull one rein or the other), or stop (pull both reins).  The horse just wouldn't respond the way I wanted, and seemed to have a mind of its own.  Give me handlebars, a throttle, clutch and brakes any day - though I must admit whisky throttle sometimes gives a bike a mind of its own too.

But I like the concept of horses.  Just like dogs, they are a superb companion animal to humans.  Horses on farms?  No problems.  Horses at rodeos, show jumping or dressage demonstrating the combined skill of horse and rider - no problems.  So long as the horse is well looked after it's a great combination.  But horses racing around a track for human entertainment and gambling?  Bordering on the abhorrent.  Tell me what the horse gets out of this, other than being sent to the knacker's yard when it suffers a serious injury.  I'm sure I'm in the minority, but I'd be happy for the entire racehorse industry to go the way of the greyhounds.

Will what I'm about to see today change my mind?

Not a lot.  Our guide talks about money, stud fees, breeding and more money.  Of course high value horses are very well looked after, but there's no discussion as to the ethics of horse racing in general.  And it's big money too - billions of Euro and 30,000 jobs in Ireland.  Much the same in NZ - a $2 billion industry and 13,000 jobs - that's not going to disappear in a hurry.

It's lovely seeing the horses though - particularly past champions whose racing days are over.

And the yearlings before their training starts in earnest.

In the AV Centre we're invited to use a little iPad to choose a virtual horse, name it, train it and race it.  I select Galileo (of course!) for my horse's name, and irony upon ironies I come first!

As you might have guessed, the gardens were more to my taste.  

If you think those stones with clints and grikes in St Fiachra's Garden look familiar, you'd be right.  They were imported from the Burren.

But it was the Japanese Garden that was the day's highlight.  This is not a serene place like the Chinese garden in Vancouver - you've got to work for this one.  On entry you need to decide on the Easy Path or the Path of Life, having been warned the latter is quite tricky with steep difficult steps.  No matter - how could we not choose it?

You enter through the Gate of Oblivion to start the journey in the Cave of Birth.  The Tunnel of Ignorance leads to the Hill of Learning and Path of Adventure as you grow to adulthood.  The path splits three ways - you can choose between a smooth and carefree path, the narrow path of bachelorhood (only wide enough for one), or the stepping stones to wedded life.  As you do when married, you come to the Difference of Opinion path.

As frequently happens, Pauline and I take different paths, but meet up amicably shortly thereafter.  After strenuously climbing the Hill of Ambition we reach the Well of Wisdom.  

Pauline doesn't need to stay here long - she already knows everything.

All up an absolutely delightful and contemplative place, once the heart rate recedes.

Perhaps I need to return again as I progress past the Chair of Old Age to the Hill of Mourning - in my memory perhaps.

We go past the sand garden of meditation.  The Zen proverb reads, "You should sit in meditation for 20 minutes every day... unless you are too busy; then you should sit for an hour".

Our trip home is via the Sally Gap, a 26km scenic route through the Wicklow Mountains.  

We're coming back this way tomorrow on our way to Dublin Airport, but won't have the luxury of time to stop for photos.  Our last of many pics of Ireland's stunning glacial valley scenery.

Boarding passes are sorted for our flights, and the Singapore Arrival Card confirmation is in my inbox.  A couple of interesting snippets:

• Under the Misuse of Drugs Act, drug trafficking is punishable by death
• Vaping is an offence which carries fines of up to $2,000 and rehabilitation.  Foreigners caught vaping may have their passes revoked, be deported and banned from re-entry into Singapore.

Fortunately my cheese and caffeine addictions won't get me tangled up in these.

Day 4 - heading for Singapore, and reflections

Uneventful checkout, and we drive to Dublin airport via Sally Gap.  Pauline took heaps more photos through the windscreen.  No issues relinquishing the Seat Leon after 4,500km.  I'd never choose to own one, but it got us round without drama.  I let them know about the low oil level too.

Over a pretty reasonable flat white (they're still learning...) in the Airport we can reflect on a great two months in England and Ireland.

Top of the list is great scenery, and a sense of history travelling through countries where the past is measured in millennia, not centuries.

Safety wasn't a problem - everyone was invariably polite and friendly, with only a couple of boorish motorists, which you'd get anywhere.  Driving was a piece of cake - if you can navigate NZ's gravel back roads you can drive anywhere in the British Isles.  The only thing they need is our advisory speed signs - there are warnings for sharp bends, but no consistency.

Interesting that agriculture was low intensity compared to our standards, and the local farmers are bemoaning their high costs.  Gives us a real competitive advantage, even if we are selling from half a world away.

One of the things I really liked was permanently attached caps on plastic bottles - improves recycling and avoids small plastics ending up where they shouldn't.

So what were a few of the negatives?  

I was surprised cell signals were weak in what I'd regard as reasonably populated areas.  I think they need a Connexa here, Fiona!

There's no Pics PB.  Local PBs are awful, and pretty much glue your mouth shut.  I've already messaged Pics to say they could make a killing here.  While there's Vegemite, there's no Marmite, but we survived ok.

Strangely, a lot of BnBs don't provide a top sheet.  Makes laundering that much more difficult.

And in hindsight, we should have joined the National Trust on arrival.  It's not just the historic attractions and entry fees - the killer is the parking too.

Cost of living is high, so you need a good income.  For kiwis travelling on an ever-depreciating dollar, the hit is that much harder.  But it'll probably get worse over time, so glad we've knocked off our two months in England and Ireland before things get worse.  But looking forward to getting back home where food and energy are cheaper.

Now to check things out in Singapore!  Stay tuned.

The south-east part 2 and harping on about time

 Day 1 - Sunday 25 Oct - time to think about time

Our trip is in its closing stages.  In a week we'll be in Singapore.  In 10 days we'll be home.  Dagda's harp is playing for us.

Right now we're in late autumn.  The leaves and temperatures are dropping, the rain increasing in frequency and intensity, and Halloween is just a few days away, signalling the end of harvest.  Dagda, the father-god who lives in the Otherworld, is starting to play winter's tune.

But for us the harp will be playing a different tune.  We'll be landing in Singapore at the start of the monsoon season.  It'll be humid and around 30°C, with afternoon thunderstorms.  Manageable, but the unhealthy haze from the Indonesian fires will be more than unpleasant.  I wouldn't mind Dagda playing the haze away.  Then we'll be back home with spring well underway, and our Labour weekend plantings delayed by a couple of weeks.  Perhaps Dagda could slow things a bit to give us time to catch up.

You see harps everywhere in Ireland - it's the national symbol.  

But most noticeably here.

If you look carefully, the Guinness harp is flipped from the national symbol to avoid confusion.  While both draw from the mythological Dagda's harp, the more recent symbolism copies the 15th century Brian Boru harp we saw at Trinity College in Dublin.  Even then, the Trinity College harp wasn't actually owned by Brian Boru, High King of Ireland, who died in 1014 - that ownership was just a romantic legend.

While we got dumped on in Kilkenny yesterday, today just sees a few squally showers clearing mid-morning.  Perfect for our trip to Waterford - only half an hour from our BnB.  Think Waterford and you think crystal, but the town has other claims to fame.  

It's actually Ireland’s oldest city, founded by Vikings around 914 AD.  Located on the River Suir in Ireland's south-east it became an important trading port, and was well-fortified.  Needless to say, it was attacked frequently over the centuries, with one of its claims to fame being that it was the only Irish city to beat off Oliver Cromwell.  The city's motto is Urbs Intacta Manet Waterfordia - “Waterford remains the untaken city.”

The Viking triangle is the place to start, with Reginald's Tower, hugely instrumental in the defence of the city, our first port of call.  There's still a cannon ball embedded in it from one of many conflicts.

The adjacent longboat gives an excellent insight into Viking engineering.  Fast, flexible and with a shallow draft they could cross oceans, land on beaches, navigate rivers and be hauled over short stretches of land.

They were centuries ahead of their time.

Speaking of which, time is a funny thing.  We know intuitively how to measure it, from trips around the sun, to Dagda's seasons, to the spinning earth, to the tick of a clock.  But what is it?  A progression of events from past, to present to future is intuitive, and Newtonian physics reinforces this as a fundamental dimension in which objects move in space and physical processes evolve.

Thermodynamics tells us time moves forward because entropy increases, which is why eggs break but don't unbreak.  This gives us the arrow of time.  But in relativity theory, time is no longer an independent dimension - it's intimately woven into the fabric of spacetime, and it changes due to speed and gravity.  Our GPS satellites would lead us astray without a relativity correction.  At the quantum level time may not exist at all.  A challenge for the grandkids - unify the theories of general relativity and quantum mechanics and in you're in for a Nobel prize!

I need more information.  What actually is time, and does our perception change over time?  The Irish Museum of Time might hold the answers, but unfortunately it isn't open as we arrive, and we don't have time later to visit. So I can't provide any more insights as to what time actually is.  Perhaps next time.

But we did see a couple of interesting interpretations outside.  I think we can all agree that time flies, more so as we get older.  Each tick is a smaller proportion of our lifespan, so time seems to get faster as we age.  Remember how waiting five minutes for an ice cream was an eternity as a child?  Hence the Tempus Fugit sculpture outside the Museum is very appropriate.  Disconcerting though that Virgil's phrase is often inscribed on clocks - a reminder of the short nature of life and inevitability of death.

Sobering as that thought is, it's the quote from Richard II lettered on the outside wall of the Museum that really gets me thinking.

Not an easy read when you're 70 years old!  Have I used my time wisely?  Is time now destroying me in return?  My sciatica has been playing up a bit lately.  When do I start counting the days?

While these reflections are unexpectedly thought-provoking, the main reason for our visit is just around the corner.

The Waterford Crystal factory tour is an absolute treat, as we get to see the craftsmen at work.  Very little automation here - each of the production stages (blowing & moulding, marking, cutting and polishing) each require five year apprenticeships.  If a piece fails any of the six quality inspections it is thrown back in the furnace - there are no seconds.  As George and William Penrose said in the 1780s when they founded Waterford Crystal, "If it's not perfect it is smashed, unworthy to bear the name Waterford".

We go from this:

to this:

Yes - they do bond the pieces with Loctite adhesive.  To the finished product in the shop:

The limited edition Gold Eagle?  That'll be €25,000 thanks.  I can see these lining the new Trump ballroom.

But let's not forget the crystal harp so like Dagda you can be your own Time Lord.

Only €50,000.  Of course you can always buy a miniature as a Christmas tree decoration at a mere €100.  Now I know I'm looking for incredible objet d'art on my travels, but we can't quite justify this.

A shame they didn't have any €6 tea towels in the shop or we might have been able to bring home a souvenir. 

But if you want the ultimate in time pieces, look no further than the William Maddock Crystal Clock, celebrating Waterford’s greatest historical craftsman.

Not for sale, and it would take a Lotto win for a replica.  Not on my time line.

We cap the day off with a walking tour around the park and city.  In amongst the old parts of Waterford there a striking murals.  The one behind Pauline is a multi‑exposure RGB portrait by the Irish street artist Aches.  He's well known for layering three overlapping colours to create a shifting, almost holographic face. To focus on the art the subject is anonymous - not a revolutionary hero.

On our way back to the BnB we see the signs to the Kennedy homestead.  JFK's great-grandfather emigrated from a farm near New Ross in 1848 in the middle of the Great Famine, and the old homestead has been converted to a museum.  Perhaps of more interest to Americans than us.

With another day we might have explored the Hook Peninsula to the south, but we feel we've seen enough of Ireland's peninsulas, light houses, castles, forts and abbeys for now and it's time to head north to the mountains.  And perhaps just one more monastic settlement.

Day 2 - Wicklow via Johnstown
Our decision to skip the Hook Peninsula is vindicated by another grey and drizzly day.  But there is one attraction to the east we can do before heading north.  The Johnstown Visitor Centre just south of Wexford has a stately manor that's open to view, and an Irish Agricultural Museum - both under cover.

The manor, looking more like a castle, was first built by an Anglo-Norman family in the late 12th century, but they were turfed out after 500 years as they supported the Jacobites.  A Williamite family took over the house and estates, and over time turned the house into a Victorian Gothic castle with towers, turrets, and battlements.  They became one of the wealthiest families in Ireland, and to their credit took care of their tenant farmers during the Great Famine, so weren't unduly affected by the Republican movement.  It was the World Wars that caused the problem, with the owner taken out by a sniper in WWI and his son severely injured in WWII.  He couldn't pay his land taxes, and the estate passed to the Irish Government, to be used by Teagasc - the Agriculture and Food Development Authority.

Now a museum, it's opulent inside, with some of the changes made by Teagasc reversed and period furniture reintroduced.

While Teagasc has a flash new building nearby, some of their old lab has been preserved, which I found just as interesting.

Part of the manor has been turned into an agricultural museum, and there's one particular memory from my childhood that was vividly redrawn.

My Dad had a grey Fergie tractor just like this, though without the luxury of lights.  Notice the evil exhaust pipe running along the side, which was responsible for the burn on my knee when I was about three years old.  The hairless scar persists to this day.

Also on display a stationary engine very similar to my Chore Boy, which reminds that breathing life into mine is a retirement project now due.

I've also found inspiration for a a way to look after our elderly chooks over winter - a Coop Dresser.  This one dates from the 1880s.

When I think of Molly and Maisie sliding down the ladder and having to break the ice on their water trough after a hard frost, surely the best thing to do is to bring them inside.  I hope our girls are doing ok at home and not causing Nat and John too much trouble.

With Halloween less than a week away, witches, ghouls, spiders and skeletons are everywhere.

Gets a bit tedious when you really want to focus on the exhibit, but it's a bit of fun for the kids.

One innovation we won't introduce is the Poultry crammer.

Cramming was done to rapidly fatten poultry for market, and involved a foot-operated pump forcing food down the chook's throat.  Seems repugnant, but China, France and some other European countries still permit force‑feeding of geese for foie gras production.  Choose your food products wisely.

Our trip north to Roundwood is uneventful.  We travel through rolling countryside, slightly more intensive agriculture, and into woodland.  Yet another great BnB with sheep grazing contentedly in the adjacent paddock.  

Now to plan our final three full days in the Wicklow mountains, with a weather eye.  Fingers crossed it's coming good for our final stint in the Emerald Isle.