Well, yesterday was SUPPOSED to be a good, bright day...ha, ha, ha. So I started out early to find Ballynahinch Castle/hotel and fishing grounds. The neighbors had told me about it...how beautiful it was, how good the food was in the pub and how much fishing there was along the river... so I set out. Well, it didn't take a genius to realize that the sun was quickly disappearing and the rain was coming on... oh well, this IS Ireland for heaven's sake and I won't shrink if I get wet, so onward. I made it through Galway and headed to Oughterard where I kept on for Maam's Cross and Clifden. It gets so bleak as you leave Oughterard for the coast... so many rocks, so little ground to use for animals or crops. I've been reading a lot of Walter Mackin, who was from Galway. So many of his novels take place in the Connemara and north west portion of Mayo. I can just slip into the times and imagine a very small one-room cottage, heated with turf, potatoes for dinner with maybe a bit of bacon thrown in on Sunday...so poor were the people and so much was cast against them by the protestant land owners. Just imagine having to give most of what you made to the landlord...and when the landlord decided your rented acre was more valuable as grazing for his animals then for you to grow crops and raise a family, he just razed your house and sent you packing....without any advanced notice. Very sad. Anyway, I was headed to one of those old protestant castle (built in the 17th century by the Martins) called Ballynahinch. See :http://www.ballynahinch-castle.com/ It was a beautiful setting, tucked in against the 12 Pins and above the Ballynahinch river and lough system. The hotel is known for its sea trout and salmon fishery...everything was about fishing... but what a lazy way to do it. You buy the permit for a certain beat or section which allows you to fish that area only. You just walk the paths along the bank, step out onto man-made jetties where you don't even have to get your toes wet, and cast your line. I've read and heard of this type of fishing, but was appalled at the lazy method. Well, I guess it means when you can no longer cut your own path, wade into deep rivers that threaten to wash you away like some of those in Montana, you can still fish...just bring an easy chair and give it a whirl. I'm not too impressed with this, but it was fun to see. So, after taking lots of photos, flan and I continued on to Roundstone. This is a great little village on the sea. We walked a bit, looked in some studios and then headed home. It was a long day, but fun to see.
Photos: Hotel, grounds, interiors; fishing beats.
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