Most editions of Lighting the Path deal with an aspect of my family’s 2016 or 2023 journeys to the northern hemisphere; sometimes both. So please make sure to carefully note the dates of each post as you browse in order to better understand how it relates to the others.

2 July 2023

So today our inaugural overseas group tour begins in earnest. Which means we will be sitting cheek by jowl for most of the upcoming week in a medium-sized bus with eleven other Australians and four Americans, along with our tour guide, Billy, and our Irish driver who, you may have guessed, goes by the name of Paddy.

The rest of the Aussie contingent ordinarily reside all up and down the East Coast of our shared homeland, although Melbourne is definitely overrepresented here, supplying six members of the tour group - ie couples Paul & Jenni, Geoff & Colleen, and David & Kathy. Greg & Larysa live in Noosaville on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast, old friends Annie & Di hail from Brisbane and rural Tasmania respectively, while Wendy, the only one of our number travelling alone, calls Adelaide home.

Becka & Cheryl are long-time travelling companions from Ohio, up near the Great Lakes in the USA’s north-east, while our final pair of intrepid tourists are Bonita & Carolyn, not only sisters to one another, but siblings to Becka as well.

As is only to be expected, given that none of us have yet reached a conclusion about who, other than our regular partner, might make tolerable company for an extended period of time, we all sit in our pairs for most of the day, with Wendy riding shotgun in the single seat up front, just behind Billy & Paddy.

Our first point of disembarkation - not one, I think I can safely say, that Linda and I would probably ever have contemplated visiting if left to our own devices - was the Irish National Stud & Gardens situated just outside the town of Kildare, around an hour’s drive south-west of Dublin. That said, I have to concede that our visit provided a fascinating insight into a sport (horse racing)/an industry (horse breeding)/and a world (VERY big money) of which Linda and I know three-fifths of nothing whatsoever.

Seeing a few retired champions at close quarters gave us a much better understanding not only of their impressive and intimidating size and power, but also their relaxed, muscular elegance and beauty. And of course the young foals we observed at play (and for whom this establishment provides some sort of confusing combination of provider and pimp), transfixed us with their gangly cuteness and innocent joie de vivre.

One story of particular interest to the Australian contingent was that of Invincible Spirit, a bay stallion who won just under GBP250,000 during his four years racing in the UK between 1999-2002; winning seven of his 17 starts, and placing in two others. In his first year at stud in 2003, commensurate with his solid but modest results on the track, Invincible Spirit commanded a “covering fee” - you see why I used the word pimp earlier - of EUR10,000. By 2015 that fee had risen to EUR100,000 after one of Invincible’s foals from 2011, Kingman, was named the 2014 European Horse of the Year, and rated the world’s number one 3-year old colt, winning a handful of highly prestigious races that year. We were even more intrigued to hear however that, in between times, Invincible Spirit had spent five productive years in Australia, fathering no less than 259 foals here during that period!

All told Invincible has apparently produced 22 Group 1 race winners during his illustrious career as a sire for hire.

So what do Invincible Spirit and I have in common? Well, as time has passed we’ve both had to resign ourselves to the fact that our progeny have proved themselves to be a hell of a lot more talented than we ever were. I only hope that (a) the old fella feels as proud about that outcome as I do, and (b) he’s given proper credit for his offspring’s outstanding qualities to the first-rate genetic material, and superior nurturing skills, provided by their mother - or, in his case, dams.

Enjoyable and informative as our visit to INS&G proved to be, it couldn’t hold a candle, from my point of view anyway, to our time at Birr Castle - situated a further hour and a bit by bus to the west.

Birr Castle Demesne, as the property is officially known, has been the ancestral home of the Parsons family for just on four centuries; although it is said that a castle of some sort has stood in this location for more than 850 years. What makes this family so extraordinary amongst the landed gentry, to my mind anyway, is that since the early 19th century they have championed, and indeed actively promoted, scientific research and advancement. And if you’re not persuaded by that generalisation, how about this: by 1845 there stood within the grounds of the Castle, constructed almost exclusively with funds supplied by William Parsons, the 3rd Earl of Rosse, the largest telescope in the entire world - a title it retained for almost 70 years therafter. As a result Birr Castle became the focal point for some of the most significant astronomical observations of the 19th century, and was visited by a number of the world’s most brilliant academics and scientific minds including, for example, Charles Babbage - often referred to these days as “the father of the programmable computer”.

As admirable as her husband, without any doubt, was Mary Parsons, the Countess of Rosse - who is not only believed to have had a significant influence on the Earl’s ongoing interest and investment in astronomy, but is also separately remembered as a pioneer of photography; an art form which was, during her lifetime, very much in its infancy.

And it is perhaps no surprise, given his lineage, and the environment within which he was undoubtedly raised, that Charles Parsons, youngest child of William and Mary, would go on to achieve great things in his own right as a mechanical engineer; inventing the modern steam turbine that would, in time, revolutionise the maritime industry, as well as developing state of the art optical equipment. Despite having fed from a rather large silver spoon for most of his life, Charles was a groundbreaking inventor with an irrepressible entrepreneurial spirit. This much was clearly evidenced when he arrived unannounced at Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations off Portsmouth on the UK’s southern coastline in June 1897 aboard his turbine-powered yacht, Turbinia, leaving the British Navy’s fleet, which was gathered there to honour their monarch, sputtering in his wake.

Within a few short years, on the strength of this calculated demonstration of the superior capabilities of his engine’s technology, Parsons’ company had supplied turbines to a number of newly constructed naval vessels, as well as to the first trans-Atlantic ocean liners of their kind.

Almost as impressive to me as all of these wonderful achievements however was the fact that, so far as we could tell from what we observed and read, the Parsons family have retained a strong philanthropic connection with their local community, and with the broader scientific community as well.

I know I’m gushing here a bit, but it genuinely warms my heart to hear about those born into privilege who have chosen to use their wealth and influence to such positive effect, and for the benefit of those around them, rather than simply as a means to further feather their own nests [and even moreso in the light of recent developments around the world, most particularly in the United States].

So - what will we leave behind?