Executive Traveler October-November 2005
© Dale Leatherman 2005
Under Ireland's Spell
With more than 400 golf courses on a small island, it's a wonder that there's room for castles, farms, villages and major cities like Dublin and Belfast, much less open country where horseback riders can lose themselves in the joy of cantering for miles along centuries-old trails.
Fortunately, there is all of this on the Emerald Isle, and more.
By Dale Leatherman
A timid sun backlit the thick mist that swirled and ebbed in the breeze like a living thing, giving the morning a luminous quality. Surely leprechauns were afoot in this sort of atmosphere. I left the cocoon of my warm duvet, dressed, and stepped out into the earthbound cloud. A stone wall led me to an iron gate that squeaked in protest but allowed me to pass through to a footpath that led to a field occupied not by dancing leprechauns, but by two bright-eyed miniature horses. Overlooking the pasture and the bay beyond, the Park Hotel Kenmare seemed to float in the gloom, a Victorian edifice of grey stone that has sheltered traveling gentry since 1897. It does so with an adroit mix of modern amenities and old-fashioned style and service. At last I gave the horses a goodbye pat, knowing a fire blazed in the entry hall fireplace and that tea and steaming porridge with thick cream awaited me in the dining room.
Kenmare, a small village on Ireland's southwest coast, was the final stop on my brief odyssey in pursuit of golf, horses and a sense of the Irish people. I would leave reluctantly, vowing to return next May. Perhaps I'll make that a pilgrimage every May, when the countryside is bursting with blooms and new lambs cavort in pastures of incredible green. With more than 400 golf courses and 300 yearly race meetings at 27 tracks, it may take me awhile to experience it all, but I'm in no rush.
Ireland is not about rushing. Golfers walk, eschewing motorized cars for a more sensory appreciation of course layouts and the age-old rhythms of the game. Horse trainers bring their charges along slowly, giving them time to mature before the rigors of competition. And no Irishman would dare rush the pleasures of sipping Bushmills or Jameson's whiskey before a big meal of fresh local lamb or salmon.
There's no "rush" in Dublin's morning rush hour either, as I discovered when I emerged from the airport into traffic thick as the local clotted cream. I took a break for a traditional Irish breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausages, white (oatmeal) and black (blood) puddings, and soda bread. Soon I was winding along country roads and turning into the gravel courtyard of Killashee House, a 17th-century stone manor house near Naas in County Kildare. A bell tower looms over the structure, a reminder of its use in the 1920s as a boys' prep school run by the local La Sainte Union Nuns. Today the historic house is comfortably fused to an elegant hotel with large rooms appointed with period furniture. Hidden behind the stately edifice is a thoroughly modern spa and exercise facility with a large indoor pool. Wandering through the gardens, I came upon the walled Nuns' Cemetery, where the gnarled branches of a ancient oak cast shadows across simple iron grave markers. Thoroughbreds from the nearby Rathasker Stud grazed on the far side of a stone wall.
Everywhere in this legend-filled country there are fascinating snippets of the past that don't make it into the history books, that must be learned over a pint of Guinness stout in a local pub or while asking directions on a backcountry road. That's how I discovered that the original owners of the estate, while uprooting apple trees prior to building the manor house, found long underground passages between nearby Rathasker Castle and the nuns' abbey. The tunnels had sleeping chambers that were used during times of religious persecution.
The K Club
I had chosen Killashee House because it is within easy reach of the Irish National Stud, The Currragh Racecourse and the famous K Club Resort, with its grand hotel and country club set among 700 acres of gardens and ancient forest along the River Liffey. The K, of course, stands for "Kildare," from the Gaelic "cill" (church) and "dair" (oak). But the name on many lips these days is Arnold Palmer, who designed the course that will host Ireland's first Ryder Cup, September 22-24, 2006. . . . .
Contact me to read the entire story or to discuss second rights or a rewrite. daleatherman@cs.com