The three Aran islands, from left to right Inisheer, Inishmann and Inishmore, as seen from the village of Fanore.  If this was a movie, you would see their light houses winking on and off.

One hundred years ago John M. Synge wrote 'The Aran Islands' which became a classic of Irish literature.  He painted a vivid picture of the life on Inishmann. Synge came here to learn Gaelic,  as these islands and adjacent Connemara, are the places Gaelic survived as a first language.

The house where Synge stayed is a museum now.  This is me sitting on its foundation wall. It is typical of the old cottages of Ireland, though now thatch is not common. 

An old woman, just as described in Synge's book, walks down to the post office. She wears a heavy black coat and bright woven shawl over a bright red wool dress, but with Nikes on her feet instead of the rawhide "pampooties", pieces of sea-wet skins tied to the feet,  once worn to give grip on the wet rock.

Ferries sail to the islands, but not too often and very slowly.  We travelled to Inishmann by Britten-Norman Islander, a very exciting small plane ride of just a few minutes.  The first thing you notice -  it is a very small island.  The second thing is that it is divided by stone walls into hundreds and thousands of very small fields.

The neat fields behind their neat walls.  Too neat?  It gave me a strange uneasy feeling, wandering among the narrow winding stone walls with only  the occasional glimpse of yet another tiny field. I would nominate this place as "least like Saskatchewan" of anywheres.