Glengarriff Plus 1

The weather isn’t breaking, and it seems not a good idea to pursue the activity planned for the day, involving a boat ride.

There are rumors, however, of an interesting feature to the north of town called The Ewe. It’s described as a whimsical sculpture garden, and is initially touted as something that the womenfolk might enjoy more. But many are game, and the bus loads up and takes us to a driveway that we passed on the way into Glengarriff, recognizable because of a sheep half out of the sunroof of a car, holding a pair of binoculars and with a map spread out in front of her.

The bus has to drop us off quickly, becaus the highway is narrow, with no shoulder and no chance of turning in or turning around. While we are visiting the place, Martin will drive the bus up several miles to Mary Galligan’s, turn around and wait for a while, and then drive back to pick us up, and everybody has to be at the gate and ready to board, so as not to hold up traffic any longer than necessary.

The garden is privately owned and developed on a hillside, and features about 45 sculptures, all made out of recycled materials, with signs presenting jokes, puns, poems,quotations, history, and commentary. For an admission fee of ten euros, the visitor follows a path past all the sculptures.

Titled “are We There Yet?”

Does this make my butt look big?

Happy Piggy in a bubble bath. For some reason, this resonated with Paula.

The afternoon’s activity is a ride out to Garinish Island. This involves a small ferry, passengers only, and it requires two boats to get us all across. Our pilot is Kieran, the button box accordion player who joined us in the pub the night before, and the pilot of the other ferry is his father. The ride is about 15 minutes out to an island in the protected northern corner of Bantry Bay, that up until a hundred years ago was a military lookout position against French or Spanish invasion. It still features a Martello Tower, a round tower that once served as a lookout point and a cannon emplacement with a swivel mounted cannon, ready to resist invaders up the bay. A hundred years ago it was a bare rock, but was bought by a citizen and over time was covered with soil, planted and converted to a garden island in a relatively protected part of the bay. It features plants and trees that otherwise would not survive in Ireland, much less on its west coast, including jungle plants. It is accented by a walled garden, pavilions, and even a Roman temple overlooking the Bay.

Return to the hotel for a short nap, and dinner, and music. It’s a wonderful life.