We woke Tuesday morning and found our excellent hostess, Pauline, had left out a bag of clothespins as well as her “clothes horse” drying rack. Tricia had sent Pauline a message during the laundry fiasco to see if it would be okay for us to use the clothesline. Pauline hadn’t received the message until that morning and left us a sweet note. Before we even had breakfast, we transferred all the clothes to either the line or the clothes horse, tried to stoke the fire to get the room warmer in hopes of the clothes drying faster, and went about getting ready for the day’s outing.
The sun was shining and the wind was whipping so I was hopeful the clothes would dry quickly. We pulled out of the driveway and were maybe ten yards from the cottage when it started hailing. Well, hail isn’t as bad as rain, I thought, and it’s not coming down very hard. By the time we reached the end of the street, it had become a downpour, so we turned around and hurried to pull the clothes in off the line.
Back on the road, our first stop was a place we’d discovered the previous day on the way to the Cliffs of Moher. Hazel Mountain Chocolate is a small, family-run operation. You can view their facility and sample the chocolates, visit the gift shop or grab a bite in the cafe. They start with raw beans that they roast and mill themselves. Luke was manning the shop and provided us with an overview of the factory process. The resulting liquid is poured into molds and aged for three weeks before being turned into its final form. What they do is really an art. We bought truffles and chocolate bars to take home and Luke told us about a nearby Abbey he thought we might enjoy visiting.
Next we headed to The Burren Perfumery. I stumbled across this place on Instagram and it sounded so interesting I was glad we were able to fit it into our schedule. The road into it was maybe the smallest we had been on with high grass and bushes pressing in on either side. I was sure we’d made a wrong turn but then, in the middle of nowhere a sign indicated a turn and within a few seconds we were in the parking lot.
What a charming place! I felt like I was walking into something out of a fairy tale. A friendly lady greeted us as soon as we entered and took the time to explain each of the perfumes made on the premises and gave us a quick tour of the other products available. There is also a short film visitors can watch about the Burren. It’s a landscape of strange beauty that is both harsh and home to great beauty. We learned that perfumes change once they have been on your skin for a time and interact with your body chemistry. The associate recommended we try our favorite scent and allow it to transition for several minutes before making a choice. I liked all of the choices, but Winter Woods was unlike any perfume I’ve known before. It’s earthy and evoked within me a picture of a thatched cottage on a crisp night, a crackling fire in the hearth and a good book waiting to be read.
This is also a family-run company and in addition to the perfumes they make balms, soaps, and skin care item. There is an herb garden right behind the tea room that even in the days before spring truly arrived was still a place of rugged beauty. I could have spent a small fortune here, but I only came home with one bottle of Winter Woods perfume. However, they ship for free to anywhere in the world if you spend 60 euros on their website.
Upon leaving the perfumery, we started looking for the abbey Luke had mentioned. We knew it couldn’t be far, he’d said something about it being across from the Chocolate Factory. How we missed the sign for it on the way to the perfumery I don’t know, but we caught it the second time and turned down a gravel road that ended at Corcomore Abbey.
This abbey was found around 1195 by Cistercian monks and holds the tomb of Conor O’Brien, king of the territory once known as Thomond. Aside from the missing roof, the ruins are in remarkable condition. We were the only visitors for close to thirty minutes. We were surprised by the number of graves that had fresh flowers on them and there was even a crypt with a burial from as recent as the early 2000s.
When another family arrived, we decided to move on. This was a slower paced day and we hoped to explore the shops in Galway a bit before meeting another friend of Tricia’s for dinner. Pauline had given us tips on places to shop and we found a parking garage with ease. Parking was another matter. I was sure the top of the car was going to scrape the ceiling of the garage and the spots were tiny. Thank goodness Tricia was driving.
It turned out the garage we had stumbled on was in an ideal location with the Aran Sweater Market steps away. I still hadn’t purchased a sweater yet and time was running out so I went inside while Tricia visited the jewelry shop across the street. I tried on a dozen sweaters, with three or four becoming quick favorites. There was another lady trying a bunch of things on also and we struck up a conversation. She and her husband were from Alaska, so it made sense she was planning on taking at least a couple of sweaters home.
I wasn’t ready to make a commitment by the time Tricia arrived and decided to see if there were any other shops that might have a sweater like the one I’d seen in Bunratty. The street was closed to cars, paved with bricks, and lined with shops, cafes, or restaurants. With street performers and banners stretched across the street there was quite a festive air.
We visited a number of shops, but no other sweaters caught my fancy so we returned to the Aran Market and I chose two to have shipped home. I also found a knit hat for my dad, whose head is always cold in the winter, and a small sheep to always remember our close encounters.