Brian Brady hails from Westmeath County, Leinster Province, the Republic of Ireland. As we skimmed the dark blue surface of the Ha Long Bay together in a tandem kayak, he recounted for me the sad story of Fionn McCune and the Salmon of Knowledge.
In Brian’s telling, Fionn meets a bad end. When Fionn’s quest for the wisdom of the ages leads him to eat the fabled salmon, the sudden revelation imparted by the fish’s flesh is too much for him, and Fionn perishes.
Brian and I paddled around the limestone karsts of Ha Long bay; we skirted sheer limestone walls undercut by waves; we skated through dark limestone passages to interior lagoons. Few sounds broke the peace, other than the splash of our paddles and Brian’s stories of home. Occasionally we clapped our hands and basked in the rounds of applause reflected from the surrounding cliffs.
Ha Long Bay bears little physical resemblance to Ireland. Nevertheless, Brian’s descriptions of his country — its lakes and heather, its folk tales, folk music, faery rings and faery woods, its banshee winds and rocky flats — were oddly appropriate to the setting, for the simple reason that Brian obviously loves the Irish countryside. In the midst of scenery whose drama and beauty far outstripped our descriptive powers — indeed, rendered description irrelevant — this simple reverence for the familiar landscapes of home filled the silence perfectly.
And I was grateful for the opportunity to reciprocate. Finally, a conversation about America in which I could talk about our open spaces, our mythology, our great cities and regional quirks, our countryside’s vastness and beauty.
I think I may have even convinced Brian to make his next trip to America. At the very least, I convinced him we are not all obese, gun-toting loudmouths (after all, only 30% of Americans are obese).
We’ve plotted a rough itinerary. It will be a cross-country road trip, of course. Convertible Mustang preferred. The journey will begin in New York (no explanation necessary); pass through Wyoming (Yellowstone, Grand Tetons); pass through Texas (rodeos, barbeque, cowboy bars); traverse the Southwest (Zion, Bryce, red rocks, etc.); take in LA (no explanation necessary); and meander the California coast, with a possible side trip to Vegas (love it or hate it, it’s something to see).
If he does it, I, for one, will be jealous.
