The Jetta Retires

Well, after 10 plus years I have finally decided to sell the Jetta. It took quite a while to clean up the dog hair, and peel-off the window stickers from Baylor, the Masons, and our old apartment complex the "Jefferson @ Sunset Valley" circa 2000. But in the end, I was pleasantly surprised by the Jetta's resale value and decided the timing was right to move it and go with a pre-owned Audio Quattro wagon. The Audi is quite nice, and most importantly allows me to lay-out my bagpipes, camera equipment, and Minuteman arsenal in the back section.

For the next owner, the Jetta will be a reliable, fuel-efficient workhorse. It will also likely carry trace evidence of pine needles, cigar bands, and petrified Cheez-its from 10 years of camping trips.

Remembering New Year's 2000

For New Year's Eve 2000 we wanted to make a big spash. London was an attractive option having history, panache, and mutual friend John Caster willing to put our group up for the long weekend.

Caster, serving as verger for the Priory Church of St Batholomew-the-Great, located along Cloth Faire street in the City of London, resided in a 15th century flat, which was built onto the medieval church itself. Established in 1123, the place had atmosphere. From a trap-door in John's kitchen we could access an interior loft of the church and look down upon the interior crossing and choir. The church was beautiful and yet carried with it the heavy weight of history. William Wallace was drawn and quartered just outside the front gates, Ben Franklin once worked as a printer in the building's East chapel, and founder Rahere was believed to still haunt the church's interior aisles and naive.

A few hours into our stay, Caster leaned in and told us a ghost story that even today delivers a tingle down my spine. Let's just say, someone still occasionally walks the aisles of St Bartholomew at night, and that entity may or may not have a physical body. (For credibility's sake, John would recount his ghostly encounter about a year later to the History channel as part of their Haunted London documentary series). After a few beers, time for bed, try sleeping on that. Day 1 complete.

Day 2. On the eve of the new millenium, having already experienced a righteous preamble, we decided to settle in for some craft beer at the Rising Sun Pub. From the quaint atmosphere of Clothe Faire we would then depart to watch fireworks at midnight over the Thames River. This was New Year's 2000, and for us, it was huge. The story ends here; nope cue the cinnamon-infused Aftershock liqueur.

From flasks, and from the bottle, we nursed Aftershock like baby calves heading to the slaughter. It was a spirited night of drinking indeed. Back at the Rising Sun Pub, Samuel Smith's Pils was the drink of choice as we caroused with many of the interesting and curious local patrons. We also met John's mates the bobby (police officer), and his wife, and made friends, sort of. Outside the pub we jovially heckled a woman involved in a fender-bender, and quickly received the British V sign. This was a nice rite-of-passage, pretty cool, and very much appreciated.

Back inside his flat, John Caster had lost his battle with the spiral staircase. It appeared the verger had been given to drink. The Aftershock had left a Big Red-hue vomit trail down the front of his white T-Shirt, and John looked as if he had been held over a dark chasm by a giant winged beast. Post haste, we clumsily carried Caster to his bedding, where he could receive rest in preparation for his work at St Paul's Cathedral the next day; televised with her majesty in attendance.

The following morning of Day 3 was a labor of hangovers and hunger as we tried to piece together the previous evening's events. The only thing to eat was a piece of half-frozen haggis, and no one was willing to dance with the devil. Emanating from the second-level kitchen area of the flat, we heard the sound of John Caster stirring his manually operated washing machine. Dried regurgitated cutlets of Aftershock were still visible from one corner of his mouth, whilst a cigarette hung gently from the corner of the other. Time to go to work, John.

At high twelve all available church bells in the City of London chimed in unison to commemorate times past, and times yet to come. We would end up staying another day, and touring all the sites, before leaving for Dallas by way of Dusseldorf, Germany, and then Chicago. Our trip was action packed, and full of panache.

This one is dedicated to Alicia, Kevin, Chris, Jason, David, Philip, & our great host John Caster.

Faithfully submitted,

Philip Bates

Travel Report: Ireland July/August 2009

In the summer of 1990, as a recently graduated eighteen year old, I had the fantastic opportunity to visit Europe for the first time. Of the nine countries I visited that summer, Switzerland stood out as being one of those places which was exactly as I imagined it would be: breathtaking scenic vistas, mountain lakes, flowers, and you-get-the picture. Ireland is one of those places.

In Ireland, the grass really is greener than you would expect. The western cliffs are more massive and powerful than you imagined. The rolling hills and mountains are barren and austere, but feature a vibrant array of colors. Castles and abbeys are abundant throughout the countryside. The Guinness is fresh, and the people are indeed charming. That's Ireland, and whatever Rick Steves says, believe him.

My wife and I spent about nine days in Ireland; the first couple of days in Dublin sightseeing and taking in all the major tourist attractions (Dublin Castle, Trinity College, Christ Church, Grafton Street, Temple Bar, & the Guinness Storehouse). And yes, pubs are everywhere, from the very traditional, to the more extravagant versions furnished with stained glass and brass fixtures. Dublin is a clean city, large, but very walkable, with a bus system that can get you just about anywhere. We found more than enough things to see and do during our time in the Republic's largest city.

From Dublin we rented a car and drove across the midlands to Galway and the western coast. The temperature was in the upper 60's for the duration of our trip. It rains nearly everyday, but usually in short bursts. Galway, along with numerous other towns and villages in the west, features brightly painted, narrow, Georgian and Victorian-style buildings set along narrow streets lined with beautiful arrangements of flowers. The pubs have real character and carry a mix of locals and tourists. Bed and breaksfasts are the preferred method of lodging in Galway, as is the case for most of the coastal region. Familiar Irish cuisine is present everywhere. The traditional Irish breakfast is much more bold, flavorful, and authentic than in the States. And dishes like Shepard's Pie, fish and chips, and seafood chowder really deliver with flavorful panache.

We worked our way down the coast to the southwestern region of Kerry. On the scenic drive we saw miles and miles of picturesque countryside complete with more castles, abbeys, and fields lined with stone fences. We even found ourselves on a road that lead to of all places, Tipperary. Of course no trip to Ireland would be complete without visiting the powerful and wind-blown cliffs of Mohr. (What a great photographic opportunity if nothing else).

In Killarney, we visited the beautiful and densely-wooded national forest, Muckross Estate, and Ross Castle. Hiking, mountain biking, & open carriage rides are all popular activities in Killarney. (This was probably my favorite part of Ireland, although it is really hard to pick a true favorite). We also very much enjoyed the scenery up through the towns of Adare, Limerick, & Kilkenny. Roadside stops in this area featured thatched-roof cottages, elegant manors, and towns more genuine, than touristy. The Rock of Cashel Abbey/Castle complex (overlooking the town of Cashel) was definitely the highlight of this leg of our travels. And although our scenic drive from Limerick to Kilkenny was sometimes frustrating due to confusing directions, we saw winding roads through rural areas that probably looked the same as they did 1oo years ago.

A trip to Nicolas Moss Pottery, the Wicklow Mountains, and Glendalough Monastic site really put a fantastic cultural and visual cap on our Ireland experience. Sheep roam freely through the scenic Wicklow Mountain National Park, while the monastic site offered stunning ruins of historical significance.

Our final night in Dublin, we stayed in Clontarf Castle (a 4-star hotel built around an actually castle). This was a pleasant surprise, but nothing our-of-the ordinary for Ireland. It's just one of those places I'll remember for exceeding my expectations.

Philip Bates

Great Highland Bagpipes

I've been playing the great highland bagpipes for about 4 months now. I started out on the practice chanter in January and liked it enough to continue.

This is a photo of the vintage Scottish-made Grainger & Campbell set that I'm playing at the moment.

Welcome to my initial post on Blogger

Hi, I just wanted to give this blogging site a shot by posting a photo of my dog.

Looks like everything is working just fine.

Philip Bates