Preserving The Language; It's More Than Just Words

As you may recall, in June 2012, Lauren, and I walked 200 miles across England – from the west coast to the east coast, from the Irish Sea to the North Sea. You can read about that wonderful, eye-opening adventure on another blog; walkmyfatass.blogspot.com. Last June, we walked 111 miles around the Dingle Peninsula, in Ireland’s County Kerry. It’s about as far west in western Europe as one can be and it’s a world all its own. Like so many other people these days, I’d been tracing my family heritage, searching for information about my ancestors. After months of digging through Ancestry.com's church documents and sorting through faded black and white photos, a trip to the Emerald Isle seemed inevitable. I had an urgent need to walk the land my people had lived on. I wanted to find family. I found far more than I’d hoped for.

Without a doubt, one of the most moving experiences was hearing Gaeilge (Irish) spoken for the first time. It was on the train from Dublin to Tralee, the county town of Kerry. The computerized female voice that came from the train’s speakers gave instructions first in Gaeilge and then again in English. I was enthralled and almost hypnotized by the strange vowels and consonants. I heard it again, spoken more naturally and lively, in a quaint Tralee pub named the Abbey Inn. (Talk about great food, great beer, and atmosphere!) The lyrical language captivates me like none other. Unfortunately, it’s a pale shadow of its former self and restricted to a small portion of only seven counties along Ireland’s west coast.

So why is the language in danger of being lost? Its decline began under English rule in the seventeenth century. The crown viewed its use unfavorable, a serious threat to all things English in Ireland. In the late nineteenth century, Ireland lost a significant portion of its population to either emigration or death following the Great Famine. Thousands of English-speaking families moved onto Irish land and English policies actively promoted the adoption of the English language. I imagine that the most powerful force against Irish was the fact that the wealthiest and most powerful people spoke English. The ability to speak English was a necessity if one hoped for opportunities for advancement. As a result, the Irish language became associated with rural folk and became a sign of poverty and disadvantage. (Those damn Brits!) Between 1700 and 1900, Irish went from being the majority language of the island to a minor tongue spoken by disenfranchised groups in the West. (My people.)

We're truly fortunate that the language was preserved and no doubt have the efforts of many generations of stubborn (or were they tenacious?) Irish people to thank for it. I top my hat to them...and my pint glass, too.

Although the Irish government has instituted programs to preserve the language, the percentage of native Irish who speak it daily continues to decline. To many, the loss of Gaeilge would be a cultural calamity. I unconditionally count myself among them. I’m committed to help raise awareness of the threat facing the Irish language. I hope to see the Irish government dedicate additional resources to education and I hope to encourage travelers to visit Gaeltacht (Irish-speaking regions of western Ireland) to show support for the survival of the language of our ancestors. Two things: please don't go while I'm there, I want it all to myself and please don't go on some crappy group bus tour. Hire a car, ride bikes, or better yet, walk. The best parts of Ireland and the most gracious, wonderful folk can't be enjoyed from a bus window.

My first solo distance walking adventure will certainly be a physical challenge, but more than that, I hope it will become a vehicle to enlighten people regarding the importance of protecting Ireland’s language, and as a result, its culture. It’ll be a true honor and privilege to walk alone among the stones and hills that shaped my ancestors into the hardworking, steadfast people they became. I will glimpse into my past and in doing so, perhaps find my future.

Until then, I'm taking a stab at learning the beautiful language of my people.

Slan.

'Tis Official!!!

Well, then, 'tis official. I'm walking all 135 miles of The Kerry Way solo. Yep, it's true. I'm pretty gull dang excited about it, too.

I spent a few hours yesterday afternoon booking quaint accommodations for each of the ten nights it'll take me to complete the circuit. One of them, the Druid Cottage, dates back to the 1800s. Its name refers to the bronze age druid stone circle found on the edge of Kenmare, which I plan to visit on my way through the village. The heavy stone walls and the traditional half front door are charming and I suspect I won't want to leave once I've spent a night there. There are other accommodations that have just as much charm and others with far less. Since I won't have my trusty walking companion with me, I don't feel the need to stay in the nicer places along the trail. I'm saving euros for evening pints by staying at a couple borderline dumps. In fact, at one of them, I have to rent my bath towel! What do you expect for 18 euro a night?!

Once the accommodations were well in hand, I set to finding the least expensive airfare. Not easy. Although there are four airports closer to the Kerry Way than the one in Dublin (Kerry, Shannon, Waterford, and Cork), Dublin is slightly-to-significantly less expensive, depending on the carrier. Not to mention that the layovers through an airport like Shannon can be as long as eight or nine hours! It's only a four hour train ride from Dublin to Killarney where the Kerry Way begins and I look forward to the trip. Watching the countryside slowly morph from bustling city to the suburbs to farmland to mountains is stunning. And exciting. I truly savor traveling by train.

I booked a flight from Fort Lauderdale (20 mins north of Miami and far less crowded) to Dublin on Aer Lingus. Because you probably won't find this information on your Word of the Day Calendar, I'll tell you that the airline's name is an anglicisation of the Irish Aer Loingeas, which means Air Fleet. Try to work that into a conversation today and leave those around you absolutely unimpressed. I leave FL at a leisurely 3:45pm, which means I don't have to force myself from bed before dawn to fight traffic into Miami. Arriving at JFK just three hours later, I'll have a three hour layover before heading to the Motherland for the second time in my life. I'll hole up in a bar while going over maps and route plans for the umpteenth time. On the return flight, I sprang for the airline's private lounge, because after spending nearly two weeks alone on the trial, I won't be able to tolerate American tourists. I frequently pretend to be British while traveling abroad (something Lauren originally found endearing but now finds annoying) just to avoid being characterized as American. They're loud, rude, and ignorant. Yes, I know that's a generalization and unfair, but it's also true so there you have it. American tourists in Europe are total dicks. Except me. Duh.

I land in Dublin at 8:40am, leaving plenty of daylight for a pre-trail adventure. I plan to catch the first train to Killarney that I can connect with and once I arrive, I'll walk to my inn. It's not far from the station. (This is, of course, suspect. The Irish are notorious for being terrible at measurements. Never trust an Irishman who tells you something is a "short walk" or "just beyond the ridge". Likely as not, it's miles away.) Regardless of the distance, once I check in and leave my bags behind, I'll set off on foot to find Ross Castle, which is two km from town. It's a 15th century tower house on the edge of Lough Leane. I love castles and can't wait to step inside and press myself against it's stone walls. I wonder what it will tell me. From there, I'll set off to find St. Mary's Cathedral, which was built in the early 1800s. Its a neo-Gothic revival cathedral and is certainly worth a visit. After I've satisfied my curiosity about those two sites, I'll find a pub, enjoy a meal, and get to bed early. My first day's walk will be 15 miles and I want to allow time to stop and check out the ruins of the Muckross Abbey along the way. I can't pass up the chance to wander among ruins, even if it adds another hour onto an already long day.

Although it seems like I've got a good start, there's much to be done:
  -  I have to buy real maps. I've never used real maps on a walk; I relied on the good navigation sense of my girl or her dwarf. Since I will be alone, I would be foolish not to invest in real maps.

  - I need to learn to use a compass. It's not as easy as one would think. Maps are fairly useless if one can't use a compass.

 - I need to start training. I'll be faced with two twenty-mile days. (The trail actually has three, but I was told about a small pub with a few rooms for rent on the outskirts of a town almost halfway between Glenbeigh and Cahversiveen.) The shortest day is 8 miles, but most are 15 or 16....and they won't be flat like Islamorada. I'll be crossing mountains and farmland and moors. I need to be ready.

 - I need to practice drinking Guinness. It's an important skill. Ordering a Smithwick's or a Peroni would be an insult to my Irish ancestors. I've gotta drink the black stuff.

Let's start with the Guinness. That sounds like the perfect place to begin.

To Be Continued....

'Tis back to the Motherland I'm wanting to go. I left the Emerald Isle six months ago and I've thought of it almost every day since, at least in passing. It really grabbed my heart and I am compelled to go back to continue my story.

I've decided to walk the Kerry Way. It's about 135 miles of semi-marked trail through Ireland's most spectacular mountain landscapes. It passes the foot of Carrauntoohil, the country's highest peak. I'll wander around dramatic peaks and glens, desolate moors, windswept passes, and mountain lakes. The biggest difference between this adventure and previous walking journeys is that one will be solo.
I'm doing it alone.

You're wondering why Lauren isn't going with me, right? Well,I'm pleased to tell you that our amazing girl has been selected to represent the State of FL at a Youth Summit in Washington DC, which is sponsored by the Smithsonian, The National Zoo, and George Mason University. It's an amazing opportunity for her and I'm beyond proud that she was selected to attend. What an honor! Then there's the ugly truth that she just doesn't want to do another walk. She's more than happy to join me Ireland...after the walk. Distance walking is just not her thing and if someone isn't stoked about walking 135 miles, you shouldn't try to convince them otherwise.

Successfully circuiting the Kerry Way will be a huge personal accomplishment. When we walked across England and around Ireland's Dingle Way (it's okay to laugh when you read the word "Dingle"), it was almost always Lauren who navigated us back on track when we got lost. I learned to just hand her the reigns and wait for her to figure it out. She always did. This time...I'll have no one else to rely on. It will be a monumental challenge and one that I'm eager to meet.

There's much to be done, but I'm already daydreaming about being there.

Lauren and I are mostly quiet walkers, except for when we break into a rowdy rendition of "The Bare Necessities", but I'm never really completely lost in my thoughts because I'm watching to make sure she doesn't slip/fall or I'm asking her if she needs food/water. I can't turn off my Momma Bear switch. While walking alone, I wonder how differently I'll experience the landscape, the scents, and the sounds. I like to imagine that I'll feel the presence of my ancestors around me as I climb mountain passes and trudge across lonely moorland. No, I haven't been drinking. That's just the way my mind works.

I hope you'll accompany me on this next big adventure. As always, I'll blog daily (when possible) and keep you apprised of the planning process until liftoff - which should be late June 2015. Rather than start a new blog, I'll journal about The Kerry Way right here. Although it was my original dream to walk across Ireland, I'll guess I'll just have to take it one chunk at a time. I plan to chronicle each of those journeys on this blog. Someday, I'll have walked through every one of Ireland's beautiful countys and found countless Lavelle's.

Imagine all the pints!