Wexford, July 14-20, 2014

July 14 – 20

WEXFORD

The bus to Wexford takes us along some country roads with views of the green, pastoral countryside. I call out “SHEEEEEEEP” at the sight of my little wooly friends. Bob says, “This is Ireland. There are going to be lots of sheep.” Doesn’t stop me.

At times, the roads are alarmingly narrow, with tree branches and brambles brushing the sides of the bus, and occasional pauses to let a truck or tractor rumble past a virtual one lane section.

Wexford is a nice little seaside town, and our apartment is right next to a very small harbor, just a ten minute walk from the center of town. We walk in and check out the harborfront. There are three or so big fishing boats tied up, and an open area with benches, but not a lot of waterfront activity. The life of the town is a block in from the water, where the main street is lined with shops, cafes and restaurants. This old fashioned lifestyle is part of what makes Ireland, and most of Europe actually, so interesting. We see several family butcher shops, boutiques, bookstores, bakeries, cheese shops, all kinds of individual commerce. The street is full of shoppers too.

We have a dinner of fish and chips at a pub, sitting in an outdoor courtyard. We stroll around for a while, then stop in another couple of pubs to enjoy the “Trad Night,” amateur musicians gathering to play traditional songs. It’s a popular thing in Wexford. There are oldsters and youngsters, singing and playing. Guitar, banjo, accordion, drum and flute are all represented. A few of the singers are very good. Sometimes someone in the audience hops up and starts dancing. It’s a really nice way to spend an evening.

There’s a little bit of a historical walk through the town, of course. There’s an old abbey, remnants of the city wall, and a 16^th century St. Patrick’s church and graveyard, surprisingly in ruins, sitting in the middle of a residential neighborhood.

After we walk around for a few hours, Bob decides he really wants to try some fishing. We stop at a little shop and buy a pole and tackle, and pick up a couple camp chairs. As we drop into the local pub for an end of the day pint, everyone perks up. “Fishing, are ye?” “Goin’ fishing, are ye?” “Good luck to ye!”

So, next day, provisioned with sandwiches and a big bottle of Irish cider, we set up at the seawall in front of our apartment and spend a gorgeous sunny, breezy day not catching any fish. We do get a visit from a harbor seal, which is quite exciting. But as they say in Ireland, “no joy.”

Next, it’s a cold and drizzly day, just right for a day trip. We take a bus for an hour’s ride to Waterford, a larger city and home to the Waterford Glass Factory. The city is attractive and bustling, more people, more businesses. It has a nice waterfront walkway and a happy vibe.

The Waterford tour is very interesting. We learn the history: founded by a British man in the 1700’s to avoid English taxes, then out of business for nearly 100 years. Two men from Czechoslovakia, a country with a long tradition of glasscutting, reopened the factory in 1947. It’s not Irish at all! The tour takes us right into the glassworks, where the artisans are blowing and cutting and etching and polishing amazing glass pieces. It’s the sort of behind the scenes tour that we really like.

On the weekend, we have a small street fest going on. Several bands play through the afternoon. Everyone sits back with a pint or two and enjoys the show. The music is a little passé for us, lots of 70’s and 80’s oldies. We liked the Trad night better, but it’s a fine way to spend a sunny afternoon.

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