Some Family History, Scotland and Ireland

11 April, Fort William

Last day in the Highlands today, the worst weather wise. We were out fairly early this morning, to visit Neptune's Staircase, a series of eight locks used to move boats between lochs. We hung around for a while and were lucky enough to see a large dredging rig and a small private sailing boat move through the first lock.

As the rain started to build, we found St Mary's Catholic Church, formerly the Church of the Immaculate Conception, where the baptismal records of most of Janita's McDonald family are stored. We ended our day at the small, but interesting West Highlands Museum.

A few hours’ drive tomorrow back to Edinburgh. We will overnight at an airport hotel, prior to the short flight to Belfast for the last sector of our trip. A quick visit to Warrenpoint and Lurgan, where Paul's maternal ancestors, the Wards, lived and worked will, we hope, add some new knowledge of the family.

13 April, Banoge House, County Down, Northern Ireland

One day we'll sit down and calculate the amount of time we have spent in airports on this trip. We always arrive early, to ensure a stress-free flight, so three hours in an airport prior to a flight is not unusual. We flew out of Edinburgh Airport two days ago. For a relatively small airport, it is chaotic. In the Security area, bags and their owners were going in all directions and Security personnel were scrutinising the liquids bags with great enthusiasm.

Our Emerald Air plane was a turbo prop and fairly small, which added a little excitement to the flight. Most of the passengers were part of a wedding party that had obviously had a BIG night in Edinburgh before lining up for the flight. There were screams and groans aplenty as the little plane bumped its way over to Ireland.

The small town of Warrenpoint is close to the border with the Republic. Paul's mother was a Ward, and her family line originated from this area. Interestingly, Grandpa Jimmy (James Thomas) Ward always referred to Northern Ireland as “da black north.”

Paul's great-great-great-grandfather, Michael Ward, was born in Lurgan. Patrick, his son, migrated to Australia in 1883, settling in Bundaberg, Queensland. We found the street where Michael lived, but sadly, we had no number of the house, directories at that time only recording a resident's street. Clara Street runs along the edge of a large linen mill, and it is fairly safe to assume that the row houses were mill workers’ housing. It isn't too much of a logical leap to assume that Michael worked in the linen mills. Lurgan was the centre of a thriving linen industry through much of the 19^th and early 20^th centuries.

Banoge House, where we are staying for a couple of nights, was originally the residence of an extremely wealthy linen mill owner. Our room is magnificent, but we were taken aback on our arrival to discover that all was not as advertised. We had booked a self-contained apartment, but what we got was just the, admittedly great, room and bathroom. There was no soap and only one towel. The place has a real “Fawlty Towers" feel, including the owner, John, who was a dead-spit for one of the characters in that show, Stubbs, the hopeless builder. All worked out in the end when John gave us access to the home's kitchen.

There is a famous picture of a market day in the square at Warrenpoint in 1902. In the middle of one block of shops we spotted Ward Brothers' butcher shop. Although the shopfronts have changed, the buildings around Warrenpoint's main square remain, so we were able to identify the location of the old shop. The current owner of the business, an optometrist, believed the old butcher's shop was two along from his. Nice fellow as he was, we disagree with him and are 99% sure that his shop is the correct location. The proprietors of the butcher shop were Daniel and William Ward, who were possibly cousins. We believe that William was Paul's great-great-uncle. The evidence for this conclusion is a little thin, but better than just a guess.

William's father, Patrick, was Paul’s great-great-grandfather. He was a tailor by trade, an occupation that was passed down through following generations. Paul's grandfather, Jimmy Ward was also a tailor. Patrick had a shop on Duke Street Warrenpoint and a residence on Newry Road. He and his wife, Mary, née Havern, migrated to Australia in 1883 with most of their family, including Paul's great-grandfather, John Ward.

The Wards, at least some of them, have links to the English nobility through Bernard Ward, first Viscount of Bognor. Castle Ward is still standing today, so we paid a visit trying, but with no success, to see some family resemblance in the many portraits in the house. What we realised after leaving was that Paul's great-great-uncle, Barney was, of course, also Bernard Ward, perhaps named after an illustrious ancestor.

Back to London tomorrow for a short visit to the National Gallery then back home via Tokyo, and Sydney.

15 April, Ibis Heathrow Hotel

A late flight this evening, so a full day to kill in London. The forecast for the city was less than encouraging and as we exited Leicester Square tube station, the wind and rain hit. One strong gust sent traffic dividers flying up Charing Cross Road, umbrellas were turned inside out and bags of rubbish flew along the street like tumble weeds. We pressed on, drenched, but determined to reach the fabulous and free, light and sound show just outside Tottenham Court Station. The show did not disappoint.

We had pre-booked our entry to the National Gallery on Trafalgar Square to avoid the queues, so our entry was quick and painless. The gallery is a little overwhelming on such a short visit, so we concentrated on our favourite genre, the Impressionists.

Although we have visited the National Portrait Gallery on a previous visit to London, we should have planned more time there. With limited time, we directed most of our attention to the more contemporary portraits, as we were more familiar with the subjects.

By mid-afternoon, the sky had cleared and we were treated to some long periods of sunshine for our tube and bus return trip to the Ibis to collect our bags, before catching the #111 bus to Heathrow for our long flight home.

Greek Islands, Crete and Scottish Highlands

 26 March, Casa di Manto, Mykonos

Made it in plenty of time for the ferry yesterday morning and got away fairly much on schedule. It was a comfortable voyage, with short stops at the attractive islands of Syros and Tinos. The ferry was probably only 25% full, so our arrival in Mykonos was far less chaotic than it will be in a couple of months when the tourist hordes arrive. Still, with no buses and only a few taxis, the couple of hundred passengers who disembarked, including ourselves, milled about looking in all directions for options. After only a few minutes a taxi driver approached us with a reasonable 10 euro offer to take us to the Old Port area, near our apartment . We knew the normal peak season fare was 20 euro, so we grabbed the option.

We found the apartment easily and, after a quick call to the owner for the code to the lockbox, we were in and settled. We are at the back end of one of the main squares and about 50 metres from the waterfront. Casa di Manto is a nice, self-contained unit with all the mod-cons. At A$160 a night, it is well above our normal budget, but in a couple of months, the nightly rate is close to three times that rate.

This afternoon we hunted out a small grocery store for supplies and had a quick look about, enjoying the fairly empty streets and the warm afternoon. Many businesses are still closed for the off-season, but the seafront restaurants are still operating and doing a reasonable trade. We considered dinner, but one look at the menus on display had us rethinking that option. One example was the fish, which was quoted at A$150 per kilogram, plus sides at around A$18 a serve.

Early this morning we noticed a cruise ship had arrived during the night. All morning, large ferries disgorged hundreds and hundreds of “tourists” into our quiet little town! We feel justified putting the title tourist in quotes, because we consider ourselves travellers. Totally different beasts.

Mykonos, in peak season, is a major party island. This time of the year, even despite the influx of hundreds of cruise ship interlopers, most of the bars are closed and by 9:00pm all is quiet. The town is just spectacular - just as we have seen in photos. We spent hours this afternoon looking for the small grocery store we found yesterday. Having tramped along every alley, street and dead-end in Mykonos, many of them several times, we finally made the correct turn, finding it, plus a bakery for a late lunch. Only problem was, the store is closed Wednesdays. As all we needed was beer, we went back to a liquor shop we’d passed earlier. We hadn’t gone in as it looked expensive. We were right, but needs must and all was well. A fitting end to a warm and sunny day in this beautiful place.

Tomorrow we have a leisurely start to catch the fast ferry to Santorini.

27 March, Fira, Santorini

Arriving at the port on Mykonos yesterday, we were greeted with the news that the ferry to Santorini was cancelled and would not be rescheduled for two days. Stunned by this and the impact it would have on the remainder of our trip, we sat down for a quick rethink. Our first need was to confirm accommodation for the next couple of days. A call to the owner of our apartment in Mykonos set up a hold on his place for two more nights. All around us, people were also considering options. Many were on the phone or the internet trying to arrange flights to Santorini, which required a transit through Athens. Some were successful and took off to the airport, others returned to their hotels. While we were still exploring our options, news was passed through the milling, confused crowd that there might be a possibility that the ferry could leave later in the day.

To cut a long story short, after a couple of hours of uncertainty, we were told the ferry would leave at 2:30pm. We have been down this road before with Greek ferries, so we were still a little uncertain. At just after 12 noon, there was an announcement that we couldn’t understand, but judging by the cheers of the crowd we felt we would eventually be on our way.

Once on board, we began to understand why there had been a delay. The wind had dropped, but our crossing was extremely lumpy. There were a few sea sickness victims close to us. We were fine, we have always been good sailors, but others were not so lucky.

The ferry port in Santorini is at the base of a cliff with a long, extremely winding road to the ridge where most of the island settlement is located. Just to end a less that positive day, our mini bus fell in behind an enormous mobile crane that moved at walking pace. On the hairpin bends, this monster needed to make three-point turns to make the corner. 

Eventually, we made it to our apartment. All worth it. Great place and fantastic position, with a nice balcony looking over Fira, the largest town on the island.

This morning we wandered down the road to the bus station, a little nervous about whether buses were actually running this time of the year. We shouldn’t have been concerned. Crowds were waiting in the shade of gum trees and buses were coming and going, fairly much on time. We were off to Oia, at the northern end of the island. An up-market town, it is very touristy, built on the edge of the cliffs, with classic Greek Island houses tumbling down the slopes and is a sight not to be missed.

It was very warm today and the crowds on the white marble of streets of Oia were fairly thin, even though the bus had been packed. We hate to think how difficult it will be in the coming months.

Sitting on our balcony this evening, we are looking over a landscape that is best described as scattered with white lego blocks.

30 March, Fira, Santorini

Well what a day! All started off well when we thought found the trail head for a scenic path along the ridge from Fira to Oia. The total length of the path was about 10km each way, but as we had been up to Oia yesterday, we thought we might do a few kms only, for the great views of the Caldera and then do another longer walk in the afternoon. After a kilometre or so, we were sure we were on the wrong path because we were on a less than scenic ridge overlooking a quarry and a dump! Totally misinterpreting the map, we thought we were on the wrong side of the ridge so we struck out towards the other side of the island. After a few kilometres we seemed to be getting no closer to the other coast, so we consulted Google Maps, only to discover that we were only halfway across the island. Past the point of no return, we pressed on, down narrow lanes, past factories and building sites, until we finally hit a dead end! About to turn back, we were told by a local that we could reach the beach. “Easy, easy. Go, go,” he said. So go we did, up a narrow goat track, along a dusty track, until eventually we hit the “beach" – not the greatest beach, but, yes, a beach!

By this time we had been walking for close to three hours and had, in fact crossed the island west to east, not at it's most attractive traverse, but an achievement never-the-less. What we had neglected to pack, however, for Europe in early Spring, was sunscreen. Paul's face was bright red by the end of the day.

Google maps was not our friend today. At one point on our return trek, it had us following a narrow road that looked as though it had been damaged by an earthquake and never repaired. Then it took us under a main road and directed us up a drain! Abandoning the technology, we found a main road and followed road signs. But as usual, after a gruelling 14km epic, we have a great story to tell, and how many people have walked across Santorini?

31 March, Archanes, Crete

Yesterday we actually walked past the airport, fairly early on our wanderings. This morning we paid the princely sum of A$56 for a pre-booked taxi leaving at 6:30am for our 8:25 flight to Athens to transfer to Heraklion, Crete. We have flown enough times to know when an aircraft has started its descent. Seemed to us that we had hardly left the ground before we were making our final approach. The scheduled flight time was 55mins, but we touched down closer to 40mins. 

We had booked a 1:30pm flight for the next leg, but our ticket allowed for a once only flight change, so we rushed through the terminal and made the 10:00 am connection to Crete.

After negotiating the usual back street mazes that we tend to find ourselves in when driving in new cities, (thanks Google Maps!) we found our accommodation. Wow! Our initial AirBnB was damaged in a storm a few weeks before our arrival and the host arranged a replacement with a friend in a nearby village. We knew  it was a bit more expensive than our initial booking, but were happy to accept the change at no additional cost. We hadn’t expected what our new home would be like. Villa Anna-Maria is  a three bedroom, two bathroom mansion! We might just stay here for the whole time and not venture out. 

1 April, Archanes, Crete

Another very warm today as we headed off to the major archaeological site on Crete, the Palace of Knossus, the heart of the Minoan civilization . The Minoans were Bronze Age people centred on Crete. There is evidence of the culture from around 3000BC, and  they are considered by many to be the first really substantial European civilization. The Minoans had probably the first European script. There are examples of it that have survived until today, but, to date, scholars have not been able to decipher it. 

The site has been partly reconstructed, rather than restored and, while this is valuable to give us some understanding of how it was originally, the use of modern day construction techniques, particularly reinforced concrete beams, spoil the effect somewhat.

Today is the first day of the official “tourist season" in Greece. It hadn’t occurred to us until we paid our entry fees at Knossus, and later at the Archaeological Museum of Heraklion, when the standard entry of 4-6 euro, suddenly became 12 euro with no senior's discount.

Heraklion is not a very big city, but every resident must own at least two cars! There are very few large, open, car parks and virtually every street, even the most narrow, is lined with parked cars. We drove round and round the port area for 30-40 minutes until we found a park near where the cruise ships lurk, after disgorging their thousands of tourists. Walking around the new port to the old Venetian fort, a remnant of just one of the many cultures that have had an influence on Greece, we heard people speaking the languages of those cultures. These were tourists, contributing to, rather than trying to conquer the country. 

A little up the hill, we visited the Archaeological Museum of Heraklion. Great to be inside, with aircon for a while and the museum was a treasure trove of the originals of murals and sculptures from Knossus, as well as pottery, jewellery and weapons. It is also home to the Phaistos Disc, a fired clay disc with symbols/signs arranged in a spiral pattern. It has not yet been deciphered, but the repetition of certain groups of  signs indicate it could be a hymn or incantation.

On the way home, we found the not well known, early 19th century, Spilia Egyptian Aquaduct, just a few kilometres from our villa. Built in 1826 during the short Egyptian control of Crete, it was partly based on the ruins of a much older Roman structure.

We are still amazed by how many people speak English, and speak it well, even here in a fairly small town. This afternoon, we even scored a gift of a pack of napkins from the little local “supermarket" that we have been frequenting, where everyone  speaks English. 

2 April, Archanes, Crete

A long drive today towards the other end of the island and Crete's second city, Chania. 

Venice, Italy, was a major sea power in the Mediterranean during the 16th Century and remnants of its civilization are scattered throughout Greece. Port cities like Heraklion and Chania have waterfronts in their old sectors, featuring narrow, winding streets, Venetian forts, lighthouses and harbour buildings. The lighthouses, forts and other buildings are fantastic, but the narrow streets are another thing altogether! 

Finding parking is close to impossible, as is driving between cars parked on both sides of impossibly narrow, two-way  streets that would have Brisbane drivers pushing their cars to the side of the road and abandoning them. But we are made of sterner stuff! Or just crazy? Sometimes we’re not sure. Today we managed to find a parking spot not far from the harbour and had a very pleasant walk out to the old lighthouse, the oldest in the Mediterranean, and a stroll along the old streets of the Venetian quarter.

3 April, Archanes, Crete

Nice drive  today, south to the Minoan Palace of Phaistos, where the Disc was found that has representations of the old Minoan language. For close to an hour, on very good roads, we travelled through rolling hills covered with olive groves and small crops.

The palace is not as touristy as Knossus and not as reconstructed. Places like this are more interesting to us as we attempt to reconstruct the original structures in our minds. It is often the little things in these less-developed sites that grab our attention, like drains, wells, stone work benches and the bases of long-removed columns.

Given the numbers of olive groves we passed today, we doubt that we will ever eat another olive without remembering this part of Crete.

Back to the airport tomorrow, from where we will catch a flight to Athens for an overnight stay before a two-leg flight to Edinburgh, via Brussels. We are pulling all our cold weather gear out from the bottom of our bags, expecting quite a climate shock, as we head into the Scottish highlands.

6 April, Fort William, Scotland 

There are some disadvantages to travelling on a budget. One of them is the time it can take to get from A to B on low cost airlines. We left sunny Crete three days ago, flying to Edinburgh via Brussels after an overnight stay in a hotel close to Athens airport. From Edinburgh we drove, through heavy rain, to our stopover just outside Stirling. Arriving around 7.30pm, we didn’t waste any time getting to the local pub for a couple of soothing pints and dinner.

Today, we were told last night, was going to be a mild 16C day. Well, in breaks between the gale force winds, we did see a little sunshine, but the temperature struggled to reach 14C, minus the wind chill factor. Despite all this, the scenery lived up to expectations, particularly as we wound our way towards Glencoe. The landscape is somewhat desolate but, that and the ruggedness and wildness is what the Highlands is all about.

Glencoe is infamous for the massacre that occurred here in 1692. The English King William III, who had replaced the Catholic James II, demanded that the Scottish clan chiefs swore fealty to him before January 1 of that year. The MacDonald clan chief, Alexander MacDonald, was unable to take his oath until January  6th, as there had been no magistrate at Fort William to receive it before then.

As a result, King William’s  Secretary of State for Scotland, issued an order for punishment of the MacDonalds. More than 100 soldiers, under Archibald Campbell, after being quartered for more than a week by the MacDonalds, obeyed the order and slaughtered many men, women and children of the MacDonald clan early in the morning of February 13. Some escaped, only to die in the freezing temperatures of the mountains above the glen.    

It should also be noted that the Romans, no slouches when it came to conquests, halted close to the current Scottish border and built a wall. Had they just had a look at the apparent desolation ahead of them? Or had these sun loving sons of the sunny Mediterranean also had experience of the savagery of the people who lived and survived, in what to them, must have seemed an extremely inhospitable environment? 

8 April, Fort William

Janita's great-great-great-grandfather, Donald MacDonald, migrated to Australia, with his surviving children, in 1852. His wife and two babies had died not long before. For about ten years prior to emigrating, he had worked in the slate quarries at Ballachulish, near Fort William. On the advice of the visitor centre in Ballachulish, we rugged up and walked a 2.5km trail that took us through the old quarry, where Donald had worked and then a very steep climb up and over the hill to the small village of Brecklet, where Donald and his family had lived. 

They must have been tough in those days. We found the climb rather strenuous and we hadn’t done a full day’s work in the quarries. Along the way, we came across the ruins of a couple of cottages, that we thought might have been from Donald's times. Sadly, not. We met a couple of villagers on the trail who told us that the ruins were from the late 19th century. 

In the village, we found the Catholic Church of St Mun's, built in 1837, where Donald and his family had  worshipped, when the priest visited for the rituals of baptism, marriage and funerals.

Most of the old workers’ row cottages in the small village have disappeared, or been renovated beyond recognition. There were a line of four or five of them however, that have been retained in close to their original form.

After lunch, we followed Lonely Planet's advice and headed off for the Glen Etive Drive. It begins at the highway turn-off and continues for about 12 miles along a single lane road, with frequent passing bays, towards the head of the Loch. We didn't make it quite to the end, as it was fairly heavily trafficked for this sort of road, although we must have come close. However, the scenery through the glen made up for not completing the whole journey. 

It is Scotland, so we feel obliged to comment on the weather. In a word, unpredictable. Today was 14C, fairly mild, at least by local standards, but the wind was still gusting to close to gale force. On the upside, there were some periods of quite warm sunshine.  

9 April, Fort William

The Glenfinnan Viaduct, said to be the most beautiful in the United Kingdom, is also famous for being featured in the Harry Potter movies. We scrambled over a muddy, slippery, uneven track, to a viewpoint and waited a good hour in breaking sunshine to witness the Jacobite Steam Train, also featured in the movie, crossing the viaduct. We believed we would see a steam locomotive hauling the famous red carriages but, today, the train was hauled by a set of vintage diesel locomotives. Not as expected, but a thrill to see the old train crossing the extremely scenic viaduct and the driver did wave to us all and blow his horn.

As we were half way to Mallaig, the departure point for the ferry to Skye, we decided to do a quick trip to the island, particularly since it had turned into a sunny day. On the way we took a recommended scenic coastal route, which was ok, but at low tide, mud flats do little to enhance a seaside view.

As we pulled into the ferry terminal we congratulated ourselves on the fact that the ferry was docked and ready to load. Our bubble was burst when we were told that the ferry was fully booked. So, we consumed our home-packed lunch on the harbour side, with a view of the town in  bright sunshine and headed home.

Forecasts for tomorrow are not as favourable as we have experienced today, Rain is coming!

9 April, Fort William

 Much nicer day than forecast today. We had planned just to visit Eilean Donan Castle but, as the bridge to Skye was only a few kilometres further and we were still a bit miffed at not being able to catch the ferry yesterday, we decided to continue on. The drive was pleasant enough, but with better weather, we are sure we would have been making many more photo stops. When we reached the castle, we were shocked at the numbers of cars, vans and buses filling the car park. Not interested in visiting the castle proper, we had been there before, and not prepared to pay 4 pound to park and 11 pound  each entrance fee, we did a quick circuit of the car park, snapped a few shots and took off. As it turned out, there was a nice viewing point just a few hundred meters further up the road at a Community Hall car park, where we could pull in. It even had toilets.

After crossing the bridge to Skye, we found the traffic a little hectic by around midday so, having achieved our goal of getting there, we decided to visit an old haunt for another home-prepared lunch.

In 2008, we visited Skye in our hired campervan, our second visit. We had also camped here in 1987 with the kids. We found the quiet little harbour where we had free camped and recalled the legend of Saucy Mary, a story that had taken our interest when we were last here sixteen years ago. 

On a craggy hill at the mouth of the small harbour is the ruin of the castle of Saucy Mary. According to legend, Mary was a Norwegian princess, married to the Mackinnon clan chief. An enterprising woman, she is said to have strung a chain across the entry to the harbour in order to extract a toll from boats wishing to enter, except for those coming from Norway. The local cafe where we had breakfast all those years ago, still bears her name.