Tuesday, December 31, 2013

I mBostún agus Nua Bedford

D'imigh muid go Maine ar bealach an sean-bóthar Cheanada go dtí ag dul ar ais an Nua Eabhrac, nó chun imeacht in aice láimhe ó Nua Geirsí. Mar sin, thiomáint Léna agus mé triu Maine oirdheisceart (bhí maith liom dha tstraidbhaile ó tSolon agus ag timpeall Jackman go speisealta), le beágan de Nua Hampshire, Massachusetts níos mó, cuid is Oileán na Rhode, agus ansin Connecticut is mó. Ar dtús, chuaigh muid go mBostún, ár chéad uair. 

Ith muid lón im bPortsmouth (NH) gnótach ina teach tábhairne agus bialann mór leis beoir úr seagal. Tháinig i mBostún leis trácht agus thiománaithe feargach. Bhí an bua na Stocaí Deargaí an Sraith Domhan an tseachtaine seo caite, mar sin féin; bhí an cathair go h-áthas ann--ar feadh seal.

Shiúl muid go an Taobh an Thuaidh atá iomlán den saol na hIodáile; ith muid dhá dhinnéar ansin. Thóg muid turas Rian Shaoráil go an Comóntaigh triu áiteannai stairiúl, Reilig nGrainseach, An Óstan Teach Parker, Cuimhneacháin Gorta (suas) go dtí An Sean-Teach Stáit go dtí Halla Faneuil.
Bhí treior turas "Éireannach na Bostún" briomhar agus cliste againn.

Is maith liom Músaem na n-Ealain Fineáil ann, leis uiscedhathannaí iontach le John Singer Sargent. Is é sé mo is fearr leat péintéail: "Luí na gréine ar an móinear" le Robert Trost Williams. Bhreatnaigh muid an Ghleann Hudson le déanaí, an ionad chéanna, b'fhéidir.

Seo chugainn, chuir cuairt go port iascaireachta na New Bedford; thosaigh Moby-Dick ann. Ar raibh tusa ag léamh an t-úrsceal mór, deacair ach tráthúil, agus aisteach le Herman Melville?  A bheith cinnte, molaim chuair fíoriúl agus fíor anseo. Iarraim ag dul ar ais ansuid chéana féin. B'fhéidir, an bliana seo chugainn...?

In Boston and New Bedford

We left Maine by the Old Canada Highway to go back to New York, or to depart from nearby New Jersey. Therefore, Layne and I drove through southeastern Maine (I liked the villages of Solon and around Jackman especially), a bit of New Hampshire, more of Massachusetts, some of Rhode Island, and then a lot of Connecticut. To start, we went to Boston, our first time.

We ate lunch in busy Portsmouth (NH) in a big tavern and restaurant with fresh rye beer. We arrived in Boston with traffic and angry drivers. The Red Sox had won the World Series the week before, nevertheless; the city was happy--for a while.

We walked to the North End which is full of Italian life; we ate two dinners there. We took a Freedom Trail tour from the Commons through historic sites, the Granary Cemetery, the Parker House Hotel, the Famine Memorial (above) to the Old State House and Faneuil Hall. We had a smart and lively "Boston Irish" tour guide.

I liked the Museum of Fine Arts there, with wonderful watercolors by John Singer Sargent. This is my favorite painting: "Sunset on the Meadow" by Robert Trost Williams. We had seen the Hudson Valley recently, a similar place, perhaps.

Next, we paid a visit to the fishing port of New Bedford;  Moby-Dick begins there. Have you read the big, difficult but relevant, strange novel by Herman Melville? To be convinced, I recommend a virtual and real visit here. I want to go back there already. Maybe next year?

Boston Irish Famine Memorial / Cuimhneacháin Gorta (Grianghraf le/photo by Lane Turner, Boston Globe, 11-9-13)

1 comment:

Gerard Cappa said...

Dialann deoraí scríofa agat?