Ireland is fast becoming my most popular tour destination. I’ve just returned home from leading a great group of people on my “Best of Ireland and Scotland” tour. Later this month, I return to the Emerald Isle for two more of my “Taste O’ Ireland” tours. Ireland (and Scotland) are a perfect destination for summer travels as the temperature rarely climbs above 68°F, the countryside is draped in 40 shades of green, and the photo ops for sheep are plentiful. We are scheduling tours for the summer of 2015, so keep an eye out for my tours to Ireland!
Traditional folk music and singing is a nightly occurrence in Ireland. No matter what town or village, I can always find a pub with a music session. These sessions vary according to the ability and style of the musicians, but are always filled with heartfelt choruses and toe tapping jigs. It is almost as if every person on the island pops out of their mother’s womb with a song instead of a scream.
I’ve been a musician all my life, so when I hear a band in the distance or a song wafting out the door, I go for a listen. I sometimes run across situations and events that are once-in-a-lifetime opportunities where I just happen to be in the right place at the right time. In Venice, I recall sitting in on an impromptu singing session with a few salty old fishermen belting out operatic arias. On successive trips to Venice, I’ve tried to duplicate that experience and have been disappointed. Try as I might, there is no way to “manufacture” these impromptu experiences for the folks on my tours. You’ve just got to be in the right place at the right time and let it unfold around you!
Knowing all this, I shouldn’t be surprised when a gem of an event unfolds around me. This time, it all started when I coaxed a few of my tour members into a deserted Irish pub. When I say deserted, I mean just that… there was not a soul in the place except for the bartender, and he looked like he was packing it up for the evening. In fact, when we asked for a pint of Kilkenny (the local ale), he had to go to the back and fiddle with the taps just to get the stuff flowing. I began making apologies to my group for bringing them in this desolate place, but the bartender had spent several minutes getting the taps to flow, so we felt obligated to stay and have a pint. There we were, just the six of us quietly sipping our pints and looking for an exit strategy.
This was the third night of the tour and our first night out of Dublin. I was hoping to introduce my group to some traditional small town pub music. But it seemed tonight would not be the night. So, instead of experiencing music, I decided to at least tell my group about the “typical” pub music session to get them prepared for a future musical evening. As I was explaining the typical fiddling and singing found in a pub music session, a gentleman walked in the door. Dianne, one of my tour members, asked him, jokingly, if he was the singer for tonight’s session. He said no, he had just come in for a pint after playing two rounds of golf, but if we wait a bit we might coax one of his friends to belt out a song or two.
Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, the pub filled with 20 or so Irishmen who were in Kilkenny on a golf outing. They told us this was a yearly get together to play golf, have fun, and get away from their wives (said with a joke and a laugh). So, the first gentleman says to his buddy, “this lady wants to know if you are the singer.” We all expected a laugh and a swift no, but to our surprise he stood up and belted out a heartfelt ballad about “Annie Moore”, Ireland’s first immigrant to the United States.
Then began a chain reaction where each man stood and sang his favorite song. All was done a cappella, without accompaniment, and from the heart. They took great pride in their singing and in the message of the song. We were an audience of six Americans who were looking for some music, and boy did we get it! By the end of the night we were invited to join them in “God Bless America”, finally finishing the session at midnight belting out “cockles and mussels… alive, alive oh.”
[space height=10] You would think with six of us witnessing this impromptu singing session we would have taken some video. Unfortunately, all were having too much fun to waste time on video. So, this short segment is all I have to offer. You’ve just got to be at the right place at the right time! [space height=10] [column col=”1/2″] [youtube height=”200″ width=”290″ align=”left”]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pw4yqb8s9hI[/youtube][/column] [column col=”1/2″ last=”true”]
A few years ago Alain Maurel, my friend and bus owner, suggested I visit Vézelay. He told me it was a pity to miss such a charming village that was only a few miles off the busy autoroute from Burgundy to Paris. So, last year I gave Vézelay a “test run” and discovered I had indeed been missing a hidden gem. This travel season I’ve included Vézelay in my Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and France itinerary and all agree, it is a keeper!
Vézelay is in an imposing position strung out along the crest of a hill, with far-reaching views over the ‘Monts de Morvan’ and on the edge of the Morvan Regional Park.
20 minutes off the autoruote
Vézelay as viewed from the Monts de Morvan
Many of the houses along the main street are now cafes, galleries and gift shops but there is none of the “worthless junk” along the road that occupies many a tourist town – if you are look- ing for tacky souviners, you will need to look elsewhere.
The highlight of the village is without doubt the Abbey of St Mary Magdalene, an awe-inspiring building with soaring decorative vaults. The abbey contains the relics of Saint Mary and was historically the departure point for pilgrims to Santiago de Compostella.
The drive to and from Vézelay is beautiful. These photos were taken a few days ago at the start of May.
My friend Asa Jernigan told me some years ago about a beautiful lake near Salzburg he had visited. I tucked that tid-bit of info away in my noggin’ and somehow recalled it earlier this summer. I was scheduled to stay in Salzburg for two nights but a week before the tour commenced we had two additions making our group larger than expected. Short by one room in Salzburg, I decided to look for accommodations in the countryside.
Wolfgangsee is a glacial lake situated about thirty miles south of Salzburg in the region known as Salzkammergut. It is about five miles in length and 370 feet at its deepest point. The settlements around the lake, especially St. Wolfgang and St. Gilgen, are popular resort towns, mainly in summer.
WOLFGANGSEE
view from my balcony
I used bookings.com to locate rooms for my group at a little community outside of St. Wolfgang known as Reid. HAUS WINDHANGER was a wonderful choice! Hemmed in by the lake, the mountains, meadows, and cows, this proved to be a comfortable and peaceful place to stay.
HAUS WINDHANGER
Upon arrival, owner Annemarie met us at the door, showed us our rooms (with balconies and beautiful lake views) and provided a brief introduction to the village, dining options, and walking activities. As we had been driving most of the day, we were ready for some food. Annemarie suggested two guesthouses with restaurants about 500 meters up the road. We donned our jackets and struck off up the road. This pleasant walk took us along the lake with endless views of pastures and cows all framed by the soaring mountains in the distance.
We stopped at the first place we came upon. LEOPOLDHAUS looked like a charming old-styled guesthouse done up in the typical fashion with lots of wood and a clean, spic-and-span atmosphere. We were greeted by the owner, who at first thought we were looking for rooms, which she was ready to put us in! Explaining we’d like dinner, not rooms, our group was seated in a private dining room and served by the owner’s charming daughter. We made an evening of our dining experience! Being carefully guided through the local menu choices by our waitress, we feasted on fresh-caught fish, rich beef, and venison. All this was complemented by traditional salads, local cheeses, potatoes, and of course, local wine. By the end of the evening we had our waitress sitting with us at the table filling us in on her life and what it’s like living out here in this beautiful countryside.
FRESH LAKE CHAR FISH
our waitress and the crew
Crunch-crunch-crunch… the sound of our group walking back up the gravel road to our guesthouse. After that hearty meal, we needed a short “stretch of our legs”to get us moving again. Crunch-crunch-crunch… a dog barks in the distance, a low-pitched horn is heard from a boat on the lake, a cow shakes her head and moos, bells from the goat herd tinkle on the distant hills. We walk in silence taking in the pleasant smells and sounds. Stopping to look at the moon’s reflection off the water, we see the twinkling lights from St. Gilgen on the distant lake shore. Crickets chirp and a wise old owl lets out a series of “hoots”. Crunch-crunch-crunch… off we go to throw open the windows, throw on the down comforters, and listen to the sounds of the night. zzzzzzzz……
Cassidy traveled with David on three of his “educational oriented tours.” Now studying at Clemson University, she’s decided to write about some of her travel adventures. Join Cassidy by subscribing to her periodic posts recounting her travels in Europe with David.Best Regards, David McGuffin
TRAVELER’S TALES – Cassidy’s take on journeys with David McGuffin
David McGuffin’s Exploring Europe, Inc. 4036 Hidden Acres Rd. Middleburg, Florida 32068
95% of the time, I personally know my bus drivers and they and I have worked together for many years. On this tour, when the flight itineraries changed, I had to change my bus and driver plans as well. I contacted my tour agency friend in Rome and requested bus and driver service for the tour’s duration to Barcelona. Usually, this would be no problem, as my relationship with this agency has always been a superior experience. However, somehow I was assigned the worst bus driver ever.
Michele, a native Roman, possessed very little people skills and was immediately rude and gruff to the folks on my tour. He refused to unlock the toilet, help with loading baggage, and help with anything beyond driving. In Italy, he was adequate and knew the routings into Rome, Florence, and Volterra. However, once in France, he was lost. Ultimately, I had to resort to using my iPhone GPS to route him to our hotel in Nice and Carcassonne. Michele drove unbearably slow at 75 Km per hour, even on the superhighways. He used his mobile phone to text, talk, and even tried to show me photos while driving. The last straw, for me, came in Aix-en-Provence, when Michele kept the group waiting at the pickup point for over an hour. I had to call his boss in Rome to get him to leave the comfort of the bus parking he found, and come to collect us!
That same day, we drove onward to Arles, a mere one hour drive for most coaches, while it took Michele almost two, because of slow driving and getting lost. Arriving in the city center, we only had time for a one hour tour of the town. I made certain to make a firm rendezvous time and location with Michele, as he insisted we should return within one hour. So, all the group assembles at the appointed time, only to have to wait on Michele to arrive twenty minutes late for our pickup. He told me later he had gone to the hotel to check to his room.
Here are a couple of things to keep in mind: Michele spoke only Italian, I speak enough Italian to communicate my intent and to lead/guide him into our destinations. At the outset, the only thing he was interested in was that I provide him with 200 euro for his meals on the tour. I laughed at that because I usually give my drivers a salary (in the form of cash payment) well over the “expected” group tip.
The next morning, I put in a call to my friend and Michele’s boss. After that, there was an immediate change in Michele’s attitude. He helped load the luggage, did not use his mobile phone, and was more friendly with the group members. Luckily, I had a friend on the tour who could mediate and help translate our conversations, and this seemed to help as well.
In the end, Michele worked out, but not before a valuable lesson on my part. Stick with drivers I know (like Peter, Alain, and Brendon), all others, give ’em a test drive before turning them loose on my travel partners.
A couple of weeks ago I struck off for Rome for what I now call my tapas tour. Tapas are little bite-sized snacks meant to be eaten with toothpicks or your fingers. Often tapas bars serve up twenty or so different selections meant to give a tasty sample and whet your appetite.
This tour itinerary morphed into a sampling tour consisting of three countries and nine destinations, all in seven days! Not the kind of tour I usually design, but how could I help it? Originally, I planned the tour to begin in Tuscany and finish up in Barcelona, a lot of bus travel, but very doable. Seven days on that route would have given us a leisurely itinerary along the Mediterranean coast.
Then the problems began, first the airline changed the routing to Rome and ultimately departing from Madrid. It made little sense to arrive in Rome, but not “experience” Rome. So, I altered day one to include a “tornado” tour of the Roman Forum and Colosseum, plus a look at St. Peter’s Basilica. As it turned out, the arriving flight from the USA was delayed by two hours, turning our time in Rome to a mere three hours.
We had a peaceful drive up to Tuscany, as most people took a chance to sleep and shake off the jet lag. Arriving in Volterra, we were off the bus and in our hotel by 6:00 p.m., pizza dinner at 7:30, and finished up by 9:00.
The next day was delightful; this is one part of my original plan that did come together. We spent the entire day in Volterra, a place I call my favorite Tuscany hill town. There was a wine tasting at La Vena di Vino which was a big hit for the group. But, mostly, everyone just relaxed in town. That night we dined in gourmet style at Ristorante Del Duca. A smashing success!
The next day, we were on the bus and out of town by 8:30. This, I knew, was the longest day of the tour. We visited Florence, where I conducted a rapid walking tour that took in the San Lorenzo Market, the Duomo, Piazza Della Signoria, and the Ponte Vecchio. The weather did not help matters. About halfway through our walk, the heavens opened up with a torrential downpour, soaking almost everyone in the group.
Later, back on the bus, we all settled in for the six-hour drive to Nice, France. Little did I know this would begin the worst “bus driver” experience of my career. Episode two coming soon…
Ireland is fast becoming my most popular tour destination. I’ve just returned home from leading a great group of people on my “Best of Ireland and Scotland” tour. Later this month, I return to the Emerald Isle for two more of my “Taste O’ Ireland” tours. Ireland (and Scotland) are a perfect destination for summer travels as the temperature rarely climbs above 68°F, the countryside is draped in 40 shades of green, and the photo ops for sheep are plentiful. We are scheduling tours for the summer of 2015, so keep an eye out for my tours to Ireland!![IMAG0380[2]](https://i0.wp.com/davidmcguffin.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/IMAG03802.jpg?ssl=1)
Knowing all this, I shouldn’t be surprised when a gem of an event unfolds around me. This time, it all started when I coaxed a few of my tour members into a deserted Irish pub. When I say deserted, I mean just that… there was not a soul in the place except for the bartender, and he looked like he was packing it up for the evening. In fact, when we asked for a pint of Kilkenny (the local ale), he had to go to the back and fiddle with the taps just to get the stuff flowing. I began making apologies to my group for bringing them in this desolate place, but the bartender had spent several minutes getting the taps to flow, so we felt obligated to stay and have a pint. There we were, just the six of us quietly sipping our pints and looking for an exit strategy.![IMG_0813[1]](https://i0.wp.com/davidmcguffin.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/IMG_08131.jpg?ssl=1)
Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, the pub filled with 20 or so Irishmen who were in Kilkenny on a golf outing. They told us this was a yearly get together to play golf, have fun, and get away from their wives (said with a joke and a laugh). So, the first gentleman says to his buddy, “this lady wants to know if you are the singer.” We all expected a laugh and a swift no, but to our surprise he stood up and belted out a heartfelt ballad about “Annie Moore”, Ireland’s first immigrant to the United States.
