"Islands and daring sea forts"

Dun Aengus: Promontory Fort by Atlantic's foam

Perched on the largest of the three Aran Islands - Inis Mor - off the west coast of Ireland, is a defense fort by the cliff, properly called a Promontory Fort in archaeological parlance. This is a spectacular stone fortification which overlooks the foaming Atlantic below! Others can be seen on the west coast of Ireland - around the Dingle Peninsula particularly - and there are one or two others on Inis Mor but this one is particularly famous and well known! Dated to circa 1,000 BC, it's not known why it was constructed save that the builders clearly felt under threat from the sea and marauders coming in from the Atlantic. Some theorists attribute it to the mythical Fir Bolg - who according to the chronicles, after defeat by the Tuatha De Danaan, were allowed to take refuge in Connacht (the west), as part of the peace treaty after the battle. Hence, the legends dictate that the Fir Bolg retreated to the west! The one thing archaeologists are adamant about is that there is some Iberian connection, and as I've alluded to before in some posts in this blog, there are undoubtedly connections between Ireland and the Iberian Peninsula, which re-inforce the many references in the myths.

My first visit here was back in 1993, and permit me to digress a little here - for on that trip, I got one of the worst sun burnings I've ever had (my last one!). The Atlantic breezes tend to be very warm, and a hot torrent wafts ashore from the west! Anyway.... It was an amazing feeling when first getting to Dun Aengus - in the days, much like Newgrange, when heritage sites were yet to be commercialised - I was able to walk straight up into the fort, without having to go through the omnipresent Visitor's/Intrepretive Centre, which cropped up at many places in the late 90's! Lying over the edge, was a spectacular experience; the crazy and whimsical idea I had, of throwing the football I had with me, into the herculean Atlantic below, to see if it would float out to sea, an example of youthful and capricious exuberance, as if the lady of caprice was waving her mantle or cape avidly for me there!

The name of the fort is interesting - Dun Aengus - Aengus's Fort - and making a beeline for the mythology, the permutations are interesting. For, of course, Newgrange is often called "Aengus's Tomb or Palace" - in fact, that's what it's known as in the mythology - Aengus being the son of the male deity, the Dagda; Aengus the Gaelic God of love - him of the famous Song of Wandering Aengus by WB Yeats. So does the fort have some connection to Aengus? Certainly, the view from here of the Atlantic below and the elliptical angle of the cliff, as elliptical as the curve a half moon makes, would fertilise the most banal muse and feed the most barren mind into fertile and inspiring creativity! So as an aside, apart from its clear defensive purposes, perhaps it's meant to be a kind of romantic refuge or bastion! (Of course, in the days of yore, when it was noncommercialised - just like Newgrange - one could walk up to it, stay as long as one wished, contemplate, meditate and let the eloquence and muse drift in, from the Atlantic!!)

At the entrance to Dun Aengus promontory stone fort; on my third and final visit 2002

                                                                       
Notwithstanding the now commercialised nature of the site, to actually see those limestone walls and stonework, the very impressively built structure of this promontory fort, and to gaze out at the broad and billowing Atlantic - foaming felicitously and powerfully, gives one a great insight, into why the land of Ireland, the island of Eireann, has mystery and mystique laced all over it like an embroidered quilt, embroidered intricately! In addition, to merely stand there at quite possibly the most westerly point of Europe is awesome in itself! Visions of pirates or ancient marauders surrounding the cliffs, seeking a hornet's nest, the cliff's face and nooks and crannies being eked out, for some vantage point to come ashore, spring to mind and send the thinker into overdrive; visions like a scene from an Errol Flynn film or an ancient equivalent of Pirates of the Caribbean - renaming it "Pirates of the Atlantic" - and the descriptions in the annals and mythology of the sea pirates called the Fomorians come to mind; visions of the mythical "Tir na Nog" (the land of eternal youth), all break out of the shell of legend as through the Atlantic squalls and the Aran Island's mists! Dun Aengus Promontory Fort is a hill fort with a difference.

PS For the definitive and authoritative guide to megalithic and archaeological monuments in Ireland:

Pre-Christian Ireland by Professor Peter Harbison is recommended;

And in addition The Stones of Time by Martin Brennan;

www.stonepages.com


 
                                                   

"Havens of peace"

Gobnait and the Bee

About one mile south of the Gaeltacht village of Ballyvourney in West Cork, then turning left, and veering around to a remote fastness, near the hub of the Lee Valley, is to be found the rustic and idyllic site of Saint Gobnait's - such a haven of peace that it almost feels like one has entered the domain of the dove and that one is resting on the palm of the creator of the universe when first the world began! And so I went with open heart and serene soul to this refuge of solitude; for the mystique of that holy woman, Gobnait - christianised by the church - so similiar to Brigid, and the lure and reverence for the bee, bade me come hither, as if drawn by a powerful magnet as powerful as a wave whose buoyant crest ceases not its joyous sway!

Statue of Saint Gobnait

The bee and deer carvings

As seen from the other side; with bee, bell, psalter

 The site has a number of things of interest: directly across from the Abbey and graveyard is a small holy well called Saint Abban's and a most striking sculpture of Gobnait; with the iconographic imagery of the bee (whose patroness was Gobnait), the bell, the book or psalter and the deer! According to the legend, she was directed by an angel in a dream, to leave her home in Clare, and venture forth like a white peregrine, not declaring a truce with her wanderings and odyssey, until seeing nine deer. This is the first thing that struck me; the deer, features very much in Gaelic and pagan chronicles and I wonder could it be borrowed from them, and hence be a metaphor for something else, rather than a literal anecdote. For instance, Oisin translated, literally means little deer, and some interpret the story of Oisin (myself included), as possibly some sort of figurative allusion to shape shifting, to which belief, prechristians and pagans would have adhered. Additionally, the prayer of Saint Patrick "Saint Patrick's Breastplate" is, interestingly also known as "The Deer's cry". Could this herein be a parable for us surrendering to our dreams and following the 'deer' of innocence to wherever destiny bids us to go?

Saint Gobnait's Grave, Abbey and Churchyard with the Lee Valley in the background

Inside the graveyard and abbey, there are a number of curiosities: there is the grave of Gobnait, which has a mound, upon which is a white sculpture with references and symbolism of the snake. This I failed to see; hence, it would seem as with other places and other times, I have to return, to finish unfinished business, like when one is filling in a hole, but decides not to fully fill it in but leave it part empty for future endeavours. The main area here is the old Abbey; carved into a lintel above the right window, is to be found a Sheela-na-Gig. This doesn't seem incongrous, in the least, given Gobnait's pagan/sacred feminine persona, which lingers under the surface like a deep pulsing vein beneath the skin and flesh. For with some of the stories about Gobnait, it seems she was a doyen of fertility for the blooming blossom of progress and evolution; there is the story of how, when the place was threatened by a plague, she marked out the area with a stick, and it was miraculously saved!  Perhaps true but it could also again be an allegory - this time for dowsing the land for its miraculous properties or esoterically infusing the land with energies and leylines!?

Sheela-na-Gig above the east lintel; demonstrating the multitiered aspects of the place.

Almost climbing up to it!

 Just down from the abbey grounds and graveyard, through a mystical arched entrance - a bit like rolling an almond through an alcove, one will stumble upon Gobnait's Holy Well. This is a beautiful well, with the middle step perfectly aligned in a hollow, in which to kneel down, as if some mystical craftsperson had carved it like a mat, to take the contour and shape of the pilgrim's knees with the finest precision; the water volume is like a vessel whose liquid bounty is an incandescent blowtorch whose taste and freshness is as fresh as a river when first it flows. And there is a tranquility particularly around here which makes it a prime candidate for the haven of peace in an oasis of delight; the doves fly around in the secret channels of mirth.

Tranquil sereneness by Gobnait's Well

In reprise

Gobnait's Well with middle step into which one can kneel

 GOBNAIT, THE BEE AND ITS HISTORY OF HEALING

It's narrated that Gobnait was the patroness of the bee - a beekeeper - who had some mystical connection with the bee and according to tradition, saved cattle from marauding raiders, by sending the bees out - radar-like - to chase the would be thieves away! There is also a tradition of people being healed here through the winsome honey mead of the bees! Clearly, this was a special place - a chosen place - what with its strategic positioning as a sanctuary, the importance and reverence accorded to the bee, the tradition of healing, the story of the land being cut off - quarantined so to speak - to remain unblemished and free from the ravages of the plague; then, additionally, the fact that there is another spring nearby, which means that there are up to three wells in close proximity. (Interestingly, when around this part, I had a strange sense of bees buzzing in my eardrums, and there was a tingling inside my ears, as if some small army were marching in my eardrums!)

The site of Saint Gobnait's, Ballyvourney, is a real refuge off the beaten track; it is a haven of peace where the pilgrim and nature seem to enter a symbiotic relationship heretofore nonexistent. It's as if the veil between the two worlds has opened - the two worlds that connect the human make up - the masculine and the feminine, and this harmonious interconnectedness is ably reflected by the cosmic clamour of the bee and Gobnait's mystical antennae. This is a sanctuary where many sanctuaries exist; it is a prime mover of relaxation!  See it and be at ease with life.

Ruined house beyond the graveyard. At the side of the base of the Celtic Cross in the middle, there is an interesting celtic design.

 PS There are also supposed to be Bullaun Stones in the graveyard 'though I didn't see them.

Directions:

From Macroom, County Cork travel west on the N22 towards Kerry. Go through Baile Mhic Ire (Ballymakerry) and after the church and school on your right take the next left turn signposted. About 400 metres down here you will come to the first holy well. Take the next right for the Church.

"Lesser known lakes of Ireland"

Lough Muckno: Killarney of the north!

The Lakes of Killarney are very famous; a little less famous are the lakes of the midlands of Ireland, the Lake District of Mayo in Connacht and Cavan and Fermanagh in Ulster but perhaps almost totally unknown is a lake in another Ulster county - Monaghan - called Lough Muckno. Located in the grounds of Castleblaney, i.e. the Castle of the Blaney family, from which the town of Castleblaney, County Monaghan sprung up, it is actually known as "Killarney of the north" - such is its idyllic enchantment and solace. The European waterski championship has taken place here and it is also a deep and rich resource for coarse fishing. However, aside from this, it's largely untouched and thus a 'Hidden' lake of Ireland, much like an unknown gem yet to have its full rays dazzled for all to see!

The name of the lake is most curious; translated from the Gaelic, meaning 'Lake of the Black Pig.' Now, of course, the nominative of the Black Pig figures very much in Gaelic mythology and folklore; there is also the real but enigmatic part of topography: "The Black Pig's Dyke" - a wall or series of earthen ramparts which run along the bandwidth of Ireland from around Leitrim/Sligo in the west to Armagh/Louth/Down in the east; interestingly a physical and natural demarcation from antiquity. The derivation of this lake's name means it's almost certain that the dyke runs very close to Lough Muckno itself.

Within the grounds of the 900 acres Leisure Park which has been open since 1980, is "Hope's Castle hotel". Formerly a house, it was taken over by a member of the Hope Family in the 1800's; this was the family who gave their name to a green diamond, which was the largest to be discovered in the world. On the site of the old Castle, there is much history around here - the "Oakboys revolt" of 1763, for instance, when the castle was the seat of a British Army Barracks!

As it's located in south Ulster, Lough Muckno and indeed Castleblaney tend to be overlooked and few people know about the area or the locality. But its hinterland is very important; a couple of miles to the east of here is Crossmaglen in county Armagh with its famous market - with which it has strong links; and hence the Plains of Macha of old - which was the thoroughfare of Cuchulainn in the annals and old stories. A few miles to the south is Inniskeen, which was the birthplace of one of Ireland's famous sons and one of my favourite poets, Patrick Kavanagh, who wrote arguably one of the greatest romantic poems of unrequited love of the twentienth century On Raglan Road. As an aside, although it's never been recorded, I wonder did he ever grace Lough Muckno and drink in the radiance of the place? (Of course, the omnipresent drumlin, which figures in his early poetry, can be seen from here).

But what makes Lough Muckno and hence, Castleblaney so worth seeing and exploring, is that this lovely and elegant lake and its leisure park, whilst a popular hub for sportspersons and nature lovers, still retains a measure of elegance and a state of uncorrupted wilderness that cannot be measured by any barchart. Imagine the difference between a rural family's child who stays at home in the homestead remaining innocent and uncorrupted, and the other who goes to the city and loses that fresh and sweetly becoming innocence! Muckno still has that sweet and becoming innocence! Besides, it has none of the crass 'sidekicks' of the Lakes of Killarney with visitors being taken around in a pony and cart! In the words of the song Muckno Strand by Caffrey Mahon: "I know an island in a lake, not very far from land
              An island with a peacefulness
              that only GOD could plan!"

"The necessity of protecting heritage"

Bremore: a wilderness by the Irish sea

This Blog is all about chronicling hidden places - hidden sights of Ireland; unknown places, enclaves and locations off the beaten track; and the place called Bremore on the east coast, straddling the Dublin/Meath border merits inclusion on that list. A few miles north of Balbriggan, County Dublin, the best way to explore this beauteous cleft in the coastal strip of plenty, is to go to the Delvin bridge (a short distance from the Huntsman's Inn pub), and head down to the right, following the Delvin river to its mouth!

STRATEGIC IMPORTANCE

Either side of this river, is to be found a series of mounds (passage tombs) - and hence a complex - which would seem to be every bit as important as their more famous counterparts - the Boyne Valley - and very plausibly designate the start off point for the neolithic people - like turning a key in an enigmatic lock - as they moved inland. Indeed, one could draw a line, linking them to Fourknocks passage tomb, then on to the Boyne Valley; the line can be taken further to Loughcrew, then on to Carrowkeel and Carrowmore in county Sligo, in the northwest. (Gaelic mythology of course, attributes the advent and construction of the passage tomb to the enigmatic and magical Tuatha De Danaan - they may well have simply been a highly advanced neolithic people, who were portrayed and depicted as Gods by the good folk of the land, and those who forged their links with the Emerald Isle subsequently!).

Main mound of Bremore and satellite mound

 ARCHAEOLOGY AND MYTHOLOGY OVERLAPPING????
 
The Passage tomb is believed to have originated in the Iberian Peninsula; having travelled around there three times, I was struck by their prevalence and number in Galicia in the northwest. This conjures a very interesting scenario: the Beaker People, according to archaeologists were responsible for the construction of these megaliths in the Iberian peninsula, after which, they probably migrated to Ireland. Simultaneously, look at the mythology: as I've alluded to in a few posts in this blog, Gaelic mythology and Galician mythology corroborate each other regarding the connections between the two countries (the common denominator to both traditions and chronicles being the "Tower of Brigantia/Hercules" in La Coruna). This neatly accompanies the Beaker People scenario of people coming here from the Iberian Peninsula, so archaeology and mythology actually overlap each other!  

Anyway, as one takes a ramble along the coast's edge heading south, onto where the land touches, the estuaries and rocks, one gets a very appreciable scope of the area's importance: flint is readily found, the water is particularly translucent, as if conveying and unveiling the deepest thoughts of profundity; there is a fantastic view as far north as the Mournes, and there are the passage tombs themselves; there is also a lovely array of wildlife, protected under an EU Habitats directive. In sum, this is an untouched, pristine wilderness, and as one looks back to the beach, just beyond where the river Delvin, sallies forth, the incline of the cliff face is most evocative! There is also an energy around here, which pokes me tantalisingly with the thought, that this is a very important place in the history (ancient) of Ireland. At the end of a recent walk, led by local historian, Brendan Matthews, close to the Wishing Chair (a curious rocky outline/outcrop, at which hikers and visitors can sit, muse, meditate and make a wish), I was able to look directly across the field, to the south, and see Balscadden Bay - known generically, as Cromwell's harbour, where it's believed Cromwell docked before heading northwards. I was also able to identify (with the assistance of a lady called Kathyrn), the church of the Beekeeper behind Balbriggan Castle in the near distance!

On the subject of the bee, the aforementioned Brendan Matthews mentioned that there might be a connection between here and the Boyne Valley via the goddess Eblana (which, of course, is what Dublin is called by Ptolemy on his c. second century maps). I found this most intriquing, and will be exploring the bee dimension very much in the near future.

Wishing Chair to be seen at the top of the rocky outcrop

Photos courtesy of Teamhair Scrin

To cut to the heel of the chase, this area is under threat from a proposal of a 300 million euro deep sea port to be constructed here. Given what Professor George Eogan, Mark Clinton of An Taisce and the passionate and erudite Brendan Matthews, say about the area, in addition to its pristine beauty, its ecological significance, and its pedigree as a wildlife sanctuary, this would be an unthinkable scenario and yet another nadir for Irish society to add, to the long queue of the encroachment of consumerism and wealth of the last 20 years. Reference the following article (scroll 3/4's down) published by me in this newsletter pre-2002:  www.ireland-information.com/nov01.htm    If one then adds the disgrace of the Tara (Gabhra) Valley destruction in 2007/08, the percentage of Irish heritage destruction is probably 45/46% as we speak. This is the backdrop to where we are at now. This wilderness on the east coast of Ireland - Bremore - must be kept intact.



And so to finish with a poem:


East coast cooler

The water's sway and ripple
like an east coast boulevard
jettisons crests supple
at Bremore's salt water yard.
Was it a staging post? A couple
of mating tribes bore witness
to creation's subtleties?
The wit of time when witless
in the long boat's sureties!
In the soapy suds, what faeries
linger on moss and algae;
cream-coated estuaries,
the floating pupils of larvae?

For pre-Celt, neolithic,
the gateway of Meath;
rockhard in megalithic
when first civilisation teethe!
Did it seed on beach
and germinate? What fungi
carved its maiden speech?
Its depths and leagues rangy -
pristine and untouched cameo -
Eireann's flint-filed claymore!
Stones sharp in patterns long ago
will the willow at Bremore
fast forward their constellation so?
Oh Eblana Queen amore
for wildlife, heritage, protect Bremore!       




PS For more info, check Save Bremore on Facebook