We arrived in the afternoon of our seventh day in Ireland, and immediately went to our only bed and breakfast of our trip. It turned out to be less 'grandma cooking you a meal every morning' and more of a business enterprise, but that turned out to be okay. The owners rented buildings that they renovated and had elaborately decorated, and they had about 3 b&b's that were doing very well in Galway. We drove down to the sea, and had dinner at an Italian place near the beach.
Mom had printed off information about where to go to find the Clonbrock manor, where the Finnerty's had rented land to farm, but we weren't really sure if our directions would get us there. So, my brilliant suggestion was to go to the tourist office in Galway. We started off by trying to go to the one near the beach, but it was only open during the busier summer season, so we went into the center of town. After parking, we went into the tourist office and asked a few questions, which only confirmed what we already knew, and we were also able to pick up a few more pamphlets about touring Galway.
Since we were already in the center of town, mom and I walked around the city center, and I continued my search for a Claddagh ring. The ring actually comes from Galway (or, to be exact, the fishing village of Claddagh which is right next door), so this was the place to find it if it was going to happen. I really enjoy the symbolism behind the ring - the heart is love, the crown is loyalty, and the hands are friendship. One version of the story goes that there was once a man who was captured and enslaved on the high seas the week he was to be wed. He was given charge of the goldsmithing, and he stole a tiny bit of gold every day. He used that gold to fashion a ring for his bride-to-be, hoping that she would not forget about him. Much later, the king of England made a deal, and the man was allowed to return home. His sweetheart had never married, and he presented the ring to her. Then, I suppose, they lived happily ever after.
Many stores spouted stories that they were the original Claddagh makers, but who knows. One of those original maker stores also had a small Claddagh ring museum room, and they had rings from as early as the 18th century.
Since I'm difficult, I wanted one that was a little bit different from the norm, and after walking all around, and nearly giving up, we went into a store that we had decided to come back to later since it was full when we walked by, and to my delight I found the ring I was looking for. The band was braided, and the hands, heart, and crown were on top of the braiding. It was just different enough, but still had Irish flair to it.
Our walk through town also took us through a couple of tourist shops, and we ended up having a late lunch at a fairly old looking pub. I mistakenly ordered a caesar salad, not realizing that sometimes the dressing had sardines in it, yuck, but we also ordered some loaded potato wedges, which tided me over.
After eating, we drove northeast of the city to get to our ancestors' area of Ireland. We got to drive through some places with very interesting names, such as Carrowmanagh, Cromagh, Ahascragh, and Kilconnell. In Kilconnell, there was the ruin of a church out in a field, so mom decided to stop and try to visit it. We walked through a horse gate between two houses, asked someone who was in their backyard if it was okay to walk across the field, and ended up at the Kilconnell Friary. It had been in ruins for years, but the inside and the environs were a cemetery. There were three horses in the field, and just wandering through that gorgeous place was very surreal. Mom said it was one of her favorite things in Ireland, and I have to say that it was one of mine as well. You just don't see ruins of a friary that have been around since the 1400s, which was built on top of another place of worship that had been there centuries before that.
After our gallivanting in the cemetery, we hit the road again. Pretty soon, mom spotted a petrol station with the name W Finnerty. Now, this was only really the second time we had even seen the name Finnerty. The first time was in Cork on a war memorial. Since we believe the family came from this area, we decided to stop in and talk with the owner.
The man inside was the son of William Finnerty, after whom the station was named. He took over the business from his parents, and he was getting on in years himself. It seemed like he lived a pretty quiet life, probably just getting up and walking to work every day, with nothing much else. He had a little fireplace in the wall, and photos of his parents up in the small shop. He was a bit of a nervous fellow, and he always seemed to keep his eyes a bit averted (when we told this to the people at the b&b, they said it was probably whiskey). Mom explained her mission and showed him all of the documents she had found so far, and he seemed pretty interested that we might be very distantly related. It seemed that William was a fairly common name in his branch of the Finnerty's, as it is in ours as well. Even though it's a common name, it does seem a bit of a coincidence.
He gave us a bit of direction to get to Clonbrock Manor, and we asked him to top off our car's gas. He was shocked that we wanted to completely fill it, as it cost about 30 euros, but it would have to be done somewhere, so why not just let him get the proceeds?
As usual, we got a bit lost trying to find the manor. We seemed to just be going in circles around it, and had to stop a couple more times to ask for directions. The last person we asked told us to stop in at a house (we never really figured out which one he meant) and ask the owners to show us around. If we'd have found it, that probably would have been interesting, but as it was, we found the manor before we discovered a house that matched the description he gave us. Going back into the estate's property was like driving through a park. There were benches along the sides of the road, families out by the creek, and bikers enjoying the forest. When we arrived to the manor's drive, there was a gate blocking the entrance. It would have been easy enough to open it and drive on in, but we decided to walk from there.
The manor wasn't too far away, and it truly was a sight to see. This is where the Finnerty's would have come to pay their rent or other things like that, and it truly seemed like it was an intimidating place. The manor had been in good condition until the 1980s when it caught on fire, and now only one wing is supposedly inhabitable. The bare bones of the building are still there, but you can see the sky through the windows where the roof should be.
There was really no evidence of anyone living there, other than a dog that came out to visit us. She was on the other side of a locked gate, and she was pretty cute. She would bark, whine, run to the end of the corner wanting us to follow her, then come back and whine some more with huge eyes. I think she probably had puppies she wanted to show us, but we couldn't follow her.
We continued to wander, and mom went into areas that seemed pretty dangerous to me. I guess being up to date on your tetanus shot is a good idea :-). There was a stable area that looked like it had once also been housing for servants, and there was even evidence of a blacksmith once being there. She wandered around the debris and had a blast, while I wandered the outside and waited for a shout for help. It never came, and she re-emerged covered in cobwebs and dirt.
While we were in the area, we also stopped in at a couple of cemeteries and just looked at headstones to see if there was any mention of Finnerty in the area. The big problem, though, was that many of the headstones had lichen or something growing on them, so if they were from before the 1930s they were illegible. But there were some interesting cemeteries built around the ruins of churches, and a few different kinds of burial mounds.
On our drive back to Galway, we stopped in at the W Finnerty petrol station again as the man was closing up. Mom asked him where his family was buried with the thought that we might return and visit on our way to Dublin. He gave vague directions, but in the end we didn't go back. We returned to our b&b that evening and had a fast food dinner.
Our last day in Galway, we took a drive through the Connemara region. One of the pamphlets from the tourist office had a suggested driving route, so we just went. On the way to the region, we took a drive through a golf course on the land of a huge castle, but it didn't seem worth the entrance money. It was amazing how the green countryside quickly turned quite barren, but all the while beautiful. We stopped in an area that has an inlet of water that is home to pods of dolphins. I didn't see any, though. We stopped a few times along the way in tourist shops, but mainly we just went for the scenery and the killer sheep. We also saw the Quiet Man's Bridge, which was pretty scary to drive over since it's only one lane and you can't see the other side of the bridge as you begin to go over it.
On the way back to Galway, we noticed a 10-foot wall just above the shoulder of the road, and just walking around up there were two horses. Mom wanted to try to get a picture of them, but they didn't quite convey the fact that these horses were walking, without a fence, ten feet above the road and even though they're smart enough not to, they could jump down into the highway at anytime.
We got back to Galway in the late afternoon, and ate a lupper at the Galleon. They were serving a Sunday special, which seemed to be close to a Sunday roast, but I'm not certain. It was roast beef with gravy, the three types of potatoes, and the mash that we had come to expect. It was fairly good, and it was a nice meal to end our time in Galway. I think mom was satisfied with visiting the areas she had found on the internet, but I can tell she's still itching for some more information about the family. More on that in Dublin!
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