HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE - SKIBBEREEN, IRELAND - DAY 5
Remember when I said I’d have a good story for you? Here we go...
This morning we wake up, and we’ve each had about 4 to 5 hours of sleep. We split for our buses. I head to Skibbereen and Kay heads to the Blarney Castle. I run into the same French guy from the evening before, during the hostel breakfast, and again at the bus station. I speak some French to him and we trade numbers. It turns out he's actually hitchhiking through Ireland. I had no idea, but I guess that's a very common practice here. This would be so dangerous in the States! Leave it to the kindest folks in Ireland to take up stragglers. I'd be happy to do this if I were traveling with a guy...Just in case. We part ways and take our separate buses.
The bus ride to Skibbereen is absolutely gorgeous! I wanted to sleep but was so mesmerized and excited with the scenery I simply couldn’t. The sun breaks through a bit, and casts a golden shadow on Ireland's rolling hills, dissipating the sheets of fog blanketed on the countryside. About 2 hours later, I get to my stop and try to contact Kay to let her know I’m alive, and to try and find a place to call the people at Liss Ard Estate. We’re in the middle of nowhere, so I pop into a gas station to try their services. Lo and behold, they don’t have WiFi OR phones. Dear God. And poor Kay. I can’t even call a cab to take me to the estate.
There's nothing I can do, so I brave it, and try my luck. I begin to walk the 45mins from the gas station to the estate with my packs. I look like a hitchhiker in the middle of Ireland- And I love it. I pass fields, sheep, cows and horses. I get some funny looks from a preschool having recess, and pass a few small residencies until it's just countryside. I eventually get to the spiked, gated entrance of the estate and everything is locked. I can’t call anyone, or borrow anyone’s phone because THERE. IS. NO. ONE. The note left for the code to open the gate for me doesn’t even work. Fuck sake. I have a moment of despair, and weigh my option of turning around. I say out loud to myself, “I’ve come too far to get this far”. I search for an opening on the other side of the wall where there isn't swampy marsh or spikes on either side of the gate. I chuck my pack over, and then scale over the wall. The moment I hop down, I’m met face-to-face with security cameras, and another uphill 20min walk. I was embarrassed about the security cameras, but also a bit relieved- At least someone could come and meet me there, I think to myself. *(This didn't happen). I gather my camera and packs, and begin my uphill hike. Someone eventually did leave in a car when I was about 50ft. from the gate. I waved to them for assistance, but they left in such a hurry that they hadn't noticed me. You can imagine my feelings of watching the gate open with ease after having just scaled over it.
I carry on and pass more beautiful scenery until I get to the main reception. I'm quite out of breathe, and there isn’t a soul around to even ask for help, or a glass of water- I was at least expecting the people I emailed. I see signs for the Skygarden and head over, but the entrance is gated off, and it's not the kind I can climb over. Shit. Now I’m very tired from walking this whole way with what feels like a small child on my back, and there is literally no one on this big fucking rich people’s land to ask for help. I back track and hear some rustling in a barn. I call out, and find ONE. GROUNDSKEEPER. I explain who I am and who I spoke with to let me be here. To my utter relief and total joy, he lets me in, while giving me a bit of a tour. He explains that there were supposed to be 3 Skygardens, but it wound up too expensive, and James Turrell had to abandon the project after the completion of this one. The estate was closed due to the winter, and because their past storm had ripped up a lot of the land. I noticed a lot of brush- A mess everywhere, and fallen trees strewn about. He opens the gate, and we walk through the long dark tunnel that leads to the installation, with a small light at the end of it. I don't recall feeling suicidal in this tiresome adventure to get here, but perhaps I had quickly offed myself in my attempt and I hadn't realized. We come to the stairs to go up and into the garden through a skylight. The last step up is larger than the others. Supposedly, Turrell wanted it to feel like it represented a birth of yourself when coming into the light. In the middle, there's what looks like a stone tomb. Most people lie down on it the wrong way- You're supposed to lie down with your feet more elevated to allow the blood to rush to your head, giving you a much better experience when looking up to the sky. The groundskeeper leaves me after this, and I have the entire Skygarden to myself. Success!!! It’s everything I hoped for and more. You're surrounded by an inescapable garden, steeply indented into the ground. Looking up, you nearly have the feeling of being inside of a telescope or a pair of binoculars- The walled garden allows you to only see the sky encircled by a lush green lawn, and nothing else. To my even greater surprise, the grey clouds cleared for a bit, and I could see the true blue and green that was meant to be presented in this place. During my experience, and exploring this immersive art installation, I find it truly hilarious that even an artist of James Turrell's caliber, can make an extraordinary and beautiful piece like this, only to be covered in bunny shit. I couldn't make a single step without having some small animal feces mold to my boots. I guess that's art in a nutshell- Always begging the question, is it art, or is it shit? I don't know why I expect anything more from the films I hope to make one day, but that's dark comedy for you.
Regardless, I take my time enjoying the fruits of my labor, but am mindful for when my bus back to Cork takes off in the main city. I pack up my cameras from the James Turrell photo shooting spree and head back. At the security cameras, I write and hold up a note explaining I had a reservation, what I was doing there, and to ask the lady I had emailed. (I’ll be emailing her as well, explaining myself on the security camera footage). I throw a thumbs up and give a smile, and chuck my stuff back over the non swampy area of the wall and climb back over. I walk all the way back to the gas station for directions to my Cork bus. I'm thinking it’s a main station, but the stop is so small, I miss it and walk by it twice. I manage to walk all the way around to another very fancy hotel. The receptionist looks me up and down with worried eyes as she regards my packs, shit covered boots, and messy blonde hair tucked under a beanie. She snaps out of it as I approach her desk, and asks if I'm checking in. I reply that I simply need directions to the bus stop, and the nearest toilet. I walk past people dining on white tablecloths to get to the loo, and march out to the other exit.
Turns out, the small sign for the bust stop is right in front of a pub. I have 45 minutes so I stop in for water and a pint. I’m rather exhausted by now, but the bartender was excellent. He let me charge my phone, got me on the WiFi so I could update Kay, and so she could stop panicking as to whether or not I had died, and then he gave me suggestions for whiskey- Redbreast 12 comes highly recommended. He even helped me look up my trains from Cork to Killarney. I told him I was backpacking through Europe and that I had come to see the Skygarden. He told me there were supposed to be 12 of them haha! I tell him I'm on a Euro trip with my best friend. He reminisces over the time he went with his best mates on a Euro trip many, many years ago, only surviving on sandwiches, and sometimes camping out just to save money. The bus comes, and I thank him a bunch before heading back to Cork. Still not sleeping, and another 2 hours back, Kay texts me asking for post cards from Cork because she forgot to get one. When we arrive, I also forget, and walk all the way from the bus station to the train station, rest a bit, realize my mistake, curse under my breath, and then leave to the main city of Cork to get her post cards, and then walk back to the train station.
Meanwhile, I was asking a guy named Patrick, working at the train station about my train to Killarney. He helps me out and ends up chatting with me about the film industry, the West Coast, the East Coast, and dark comedy. We hit it off, and he takes care of me completely. He tells me his life’s story with his family and gets me a free coffee at the station with his coffee coupon- thank God because I needed it.
It turns out he’s in favor of Trump but only because his nephew was in the military and died of PTSD. Very tragic, but Trump opinions aside, a truly wonderful man- Not everyone's perfect. We trade names so his wife can find me on Facebook, and I give him my Netflix dark comedy selections. We shake hands, I thank him a million times over, and we say our goodbyes.
I’m writing this on the train to Killarney. I should meet up with Kay at the hostel around 10:30pm or just after. We might try to catch a tour of Dingle where they shot some of Star Wars but we won’t figure it out until the morning. Truth be told, I just want to pass out and I’m running on fumes as it is.
Your prayers worked! God and Grandpa were with me all the way- I didn’t miss a beat and when things got hairy, they simply managed to just work themselves out. My only regret is that I didn’t buy a round trip bus ticket because I wasn’t sure if I was going to make my bus time- It ended up being 10 euros more than it should’ve been. Ouch! Oh well.
.......
I arrive in Killarney, and get a bit lost with the hostel address and my downloadable map. It's very late now, it's the weekend, and everyone is out and about. I dodge a few drunk kids making fun of my travels so late, but I eventually get to where I need to be. Oddly enough, Kay comes out in her animal print, flannel pajamas, in a state of panic to greet me. I ask how she knew I was showing up as I had no cell service to tell her. It turns out, she had a nap while waiting for me, had a nightmare that something bad happened to me, and then came running out to look for me. Good timing to be honest- My phone was about to die.
Easing her nerves, we walk in together to drop my stuff in our dorm. This time, the dorm is shared with 10 people. There were no lockers, two shared bathrooms for the whole building, they only took cash when their website said they took card, the bunks were all squished together, the dorm had one public charger, and our room was hot, sticky and humid. Definitely the worst place so far. We settle in with our packs being the only dividers from our bunks to our neighbors'. I climb to the top bunk, and try to pass out. I figure this would be easy since I'd had a pretty physically demanding day. To our luck, the bunkmates to our left are visiting from Spain, and don't bother to take their conversation outside of the dorm. When the lights go out, the Spanish guy on the top bunk to my left gets in and out of bed a million times and has to hold on to my top bunk, shaking me awake every time. I have no idea why he does this, but my guess is that he's checking his phone on the public charger on the opposite side of the room. This sounds like a first world problem, but you had to be there.
Definitely showering and sleeping well in the next place tomorrow night.
-eM
Xoxoxox
