STONES OF ARAN . . .

I had planned to title this post “Into the West, Part II,” but decided that “Stones of Aran” would be more apt. I borrow that title from a pair of highly acclaimed books—one with the subtitle “Pilgrimage,” the other with the subtitle “Labyrinth”—by Tim Robinson, who moved to the Islands in 1972 and began to explore them from every perspective and angle possible: geological, topographical, historical, linguistic, literary, cultural . . . These two books have recently been reissued in the New York Review of Books Classics series.

Our own visit to Inis Mór, the largest of the three principal islands comprising the Aran Islands (Inis Mór means “big island”) is a challenge to write about—it was so eye-opening and mind-expanding in so many ways!  As the common title of Robinson’s books hint, the island is made up primarily of solid limestone: the landscape is predominantly 50 shades of gray (as it were!).  Grass and other greenery is sparse, lending the land a sort of moonscape quality.   Stone walls—built to clear plots of land for grazing of cattle and donkeys and Connemara ponies and for planting potatoes--create a patchwork-quilt effect throughout the island . . . or a labyrinth effect, as Robinson’s second subtitle suggests, sometimes for as far as the eye can see.

Irish (Gaeilge) is the official language of the island (The Aran Islands are a designated Gaeltacht area), though English seems to be spoken universally. . . .

Our visit to this unique spot began with a ferry trip from Galway.  We stayed in a hostel—hardly the lap of luxury with six to a room with a shared small bathroom.  But we survived.  The evening of our arrival some of us ate at The American Bar . . . and then made our way up the road to Tí Joe Watty’s for some traditional Irish balladry and a pint or two.  Good craic, as they say!

The next morning we began our exploration of the island of Inis Mór . . . and here’s how we went about it.  With a gloriously sunny day for our visit, seven of the twelve members of our party decided to rent bicycles and ride out to the two most famous sites on the island: the 7 Churches, with monastic and ecclesiastical ruins dating back to the 8th century and forward to the 13th century; and Dún Aonghasa, the ruins of a massive Iron Age fort built atop cliffs 300 feet above the roiling north Atlantic.  Built as early as the 2nd century BC, Dún Aonghasa in particular is not only a site to visit but also a sight to see.  Even photos can barely do it justice.

For better or for worse, I was not one of the bicyclists.  I’m sure I would have enjoyed the bone-rattling rubber-to-the-road contact with that limestone scape; but I decided to accompany four others in our party on a tour by minibus with our very capable and very pleasant driver/guide Stephen Joyce.  (He mentioned that there are 19 different unrelated Joyce families on Inis Mór!)  We covered a lot of territory, and as a bonus Stephen dropped us off at the narrow and winding pathway to another ancient site, the Black Fort.  That involved about a 25-minute hike each way: I think it was a bonus!

In anticipation of our visit to Inis Mór we read and watched a video of John Millington Synge’s powerful one-act play Riders to the Sea.  We also read four short stories by Aran Islander Liam O’Flaherty and we watched a clip from Robert Flaherty’s classic documentary film Man of Aran.  These works all dramatize and emphasize the lives of the men and the women of the Islands defined by the fickleness of all-powerful Nature—the land and the sea that we got a close-up and intimate look at for ourselves in all their majesty.