Tramore, Ireland: Fenor Bog

22 Sept. 2010

According to a helpful and informative sign (shown a few pics down), “Fenor bog is a place of peace…”  I must say, it was quite lovely and peaceful when we stopped by that afternoon.  The sign goes on to say that “…21 out of the 31 Irish Butterfly species occur here.”  Gosh!  And here I was thinking I’d be lucky to find a place that 19 or 20 of the 31 Irish Butterfly species liked!  Who knew?

I wish I had a really tiny boat to go sailing in the really tiny bog!


See?  I’m not making it up.  That’s where we are, all right!  Moiny Fionabacharach’s place.  Y’see, Moiny is “Burt” in Irish.  ”Bacharach” was the Ellis Island version of the last name.

Ok, I made that part up.  Sorry, I just moved to Ireland and am busy taking Italian lessons, so I really have no time for Irish lessons right now.  Maybe after we move to Panama or Costa Rica I can learn Irish.


I told you it was helpful and informative!  (Much more so than the one at Drombeg.)


This beetle is not just so-so at diving, it’s GREAT at diving!


View across the bog of Ballyscanlon Hill.


Ok, that’s all for the bog.  Later we met Karen — again! — at a pub — again!  Gosh, what is it with the Irish and pubs?  They’d best be careful or they’ll start up rumors that could lead to stereotyping or something.

Ah, here we are at Raglan Road, a most excellent and peculiar pub!  All around the walls, on the tables, even up on the ceiling, are interesting bits of Irish history and nifty antiques.  It’s thick with atmosphere and detail!


Dangit!  Why can’t you ever escape those pesky Italians?


Another view of the inside.  According to Karen, local folks heard about how the pub was being decorated and donated all kinds of crazy, weird, fun antiques — even the occasional bit of farm equipment.


…and yet, for all her high-falutin’ talk about what an excellent place it is, she seems surprisingly stoic.  Even Teenage Daughter® can not cheer her up.  Oh!  Maybe it’s Teenage Daughter® that is bringing about the stoicism.  I get it now!


Mark celebrates Arthur’s Day a day early. No, really — I know it’s hard to believe, but he really was drinking a Guinness!


After a nice Hot Whiskey and some profiteroles with chocolate sauce (we were there for a while, so it wasn’t quite all at once…  don’t judge me!), we headed back to Chez Karen so I could pick up my bags, then head off to catch the bus back to Cork.  She has a cute little place and has been doing SUPERHOSTING! for Couchsurfing for 2 years, so has quite a nice little system going.  Rather than focus on that, however, let’s talk about the really fun stuff!

In the backyard there are: 2 chickens — 1 black (pictured), 1 white — 1 bunny (pictured), a picnic table, a couple of cages, and… a trampoline (also pictured, featuring a live demonstration, no less)!  Unbeknownst to me, one of the rules of staying at Chez Karen is that you have to appease the almighty Teenage Daughter® and pick your fate: trampoline or karaoke!

Naturally I chose Death By Karaoke.  Trampoline is a far too bouncy way to die.  Sadly (or luckily, since it may mean that I cheated death), I really didn’t know any of the karaoke songs available, other than a little bit of Umbrella by Rihanna.  I promised Teenage Daughter® that if she lets her mum come down for the Couchsurfing International Potluck next week that I will sing P!nk songs with her and dance around our tiny living room.  (Dario, if you’re reading this, consider yourself warned!)  She agreed and I was able to leave Tramore with all of my limbs intact.  Whew!


And that’s Tramore!  Cheers!

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