an idyll _
_________in Ireland
TWO GREAT IRISH HOTELS ____
_____________WARM A WINTER TRAVELER.

BY PATRIC KUH | among the portraits of 19th century inventors and industrialists in the National Portrait Gallery in London is an actual steam engine. Rightly so, because when this machine, labeled "the rotative steam engine," produced something called "horsepower," it changed the face of England forever. Indeed, when the idea of England met the power of steam, it produced the Industrial Revolution -- and that changed the world.

A magnificent, antique-filled room in the Killarney Park Hotel in Killarney, County Kerry -- with SkyTV on the telly -- is a strange place for this thought. In the last two months I've watched SkyTV in Moscow, London and now by the lakes of Killarney. I can't imagine my life without the word "horsepower," but can I even imagine it without the word "satellite"? I'm writing a column for the Internet on great Irish hotels. Can I imagine my life without the word "double-click"?

The Killarney Park Hotel was voted by the Automobile Association the best new hotel in Ireland for 1992. Through ingenious design -- and owner Padraig Treacy's penchant for antique collecting -- they have succeeded in making it appear like a grand old house planted right in the middle of Killarney.

There are many hotels in this town, but none as centrally located as the Killarney Park Hotel. Right outside the front gardens is the intersection that leads toward Muckross Abbey, the famed Gap of Dunloe and the Ring of Kerry. A drive in the mountains in winter is a stunning monochrome of rust-colored heather interspersed with occasional flecks of bright color like the markings on a wandering sheep or a copse of pines leading toward one of the many lakes. It's like a beautiful Irish tweed.

Killarney in summer is crowded. You'll need the pull of the front desk to get you a decent tee-off time at one of the many famous golf courses. (The head barman, Tommy, has been known to slip off with guests for a round of golf between shifts.) But in winter it is a different place. The bus tours of Americans -- known affectionately in local parlance as "Kelly Greens" -- are still shoveling snow back in Boston and Buffalo. The hackney ponies are stabled and the singing pubs are quiet. You won't even have to queue in front of the House of Names to "Know Your Coat of Arms."

After either a drive in the mountains or a stroll through the town, the greatest pleasure of traveling in winter in Ireland are the fireplaces when you get back inside. The Killarney Park Hotel takes its fires seriously. There is one in the anteroom that separates the lobby from the street, and others in the library, the sitting room and the wood-paneled bar. There is even one in our room, all set up with kindling and ready to be lit.

Like any great hotel they also take their modern conveniences seriously. Not just SkyTV in the rooms or Jacuzzi tubs in the bathrooms but also the information superhighway. Charming deputy manager Ailish Hallissey informs me of the imminent arrival of a computer consultant who will teach the staff to find its way around the Internet.

"By the time the article comes out?" I ask. Padraig Treacy playfully ribs Ailish. "Oh, she'll find it all right," he says with a wink. "Just put her name in it."

The next day we head for Galway. The road takes us up through Kerry and across the Shannon and through Connaught and then across the flat land around Thoor Ballylee, which is Yeats country, and finally funnels us into Galway's bustling Eyre Square and the warm foyer of the Great Southern Hotel.

The fire is burning, the concierge wears coattails and on the reception desk there is a silver tray with liqueur glasses and a decanter of sherry to take the chill out of travelers' bones. The hotel was built by the Midland Great Western Railway and opened for business in 1852. It was -- and still is -- attached to Galway's train station. At the time the station was one of the busiest in the country. Many of the ships that sailed to the United States left from Galway harbor.

Today the hotel still has that 19th century grandeur and it's the perfect base from which to explore the buzzing cobblestone alleys of Galway or to take a day-trip through the stark beauty of Connemara. In either case, come back for tea in the foyer of the Great Southern. The tea is piping hot, the scones are freshly baked and if you ask him, the pianist will even play your favorite Irish tune.

As I sip my tea and listen to him play I find myself thinking about how Ireland has changed. Last night RTE, Irish national television, showed the film "The Crying Game" and found no need to cut out the full-frontal shot of the transvestite's genitals. In the Ireland I remember, RTE would pause its broadcast at 6 every evening to ring the Angelus bells so that Ireland might pray. This has always been a small enough island for any journey to be a communal one: famine, tenancy, statehood, education, electrification, urbanization. But the greatest journey of them all was immigration. Ireland has always been about leaving, an inner nostalgia, a reason to have "one for the road" on Shaftsbury Avenue in London or Queens Boulevard in New York. After 15 years away I am struck by the sheer amount of youth in this country and how they always seem to be going or coming from school. Walking around I sense a whole new idea in the air, an idea that their fathers and grandfathers never knew, the idea that you can stay in Ireland and have a future, not just a past.
June 3, 1997

Patric Kuh is a regular contributor to Salon.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Killarney Park Hotel
Kenmare Place, Killarney, Co. Kerry.
011-353-643-5555
Fax: 011-353-643-5266

Great Southern Hotel, Galway
Eyre Square, Galway.
011-091-564-041
Fax: 011-091-566-704