I'm a tour guide based in Dublin. I've done tours for over ten years - now mainly walking. I do historical, hidden sights, off the beaten track: Dublin, surrounding areas, e.g. Tara, Boyne Valley, Wicklow, the east coast, the west of Ireland, Belfast. I've top reviews on the web; particularly on: http://tourguides.viator.com/tour-guide-rob-mcelroy-5566.aspx
I can also do tours of Scotland & the south of France - particularly historical, combined with ancient & sacred sites.
I have walked around Dalkey and up to Killiney several times and it always proves most gratifying - as satisfying as a pearly horizon which never fades into oblivion. Located on Dublin's south coast - known as the Green Coast - it's a place steeped in history, claims to fame and Gaelic essence - its name being derived from Deilg (a composite of the Gaelic word for thorn and the Viking ay or 'eye'). But it's its literary connections - especially George Bernard Shaw and James Joyce, I'd like to particularly explore - and which has become a kind of a trail for me. Just after the village on the Dun Laoghaire side, if one takes a left turn, ascending a hill, about halfway up on the right hand side is a house called Summerfield House, owned by a member of a famous Irish band of the 70's called Horselips, famous for their fusion of Celtic ambience and rock music. Back at the start of the twentieth century, it was The Clifton Lodge School where James Joyce himself worked for about three months (having lived in both Bray and then subsequently Blackrock, Joyce would have been very familiar with walking along the south coast). He of course typically immortalised it in Ulyssees setting the second chapter here - in which Vico Road is mentioned - featuring Stephen Dedalus and using its headmaster as the basis for Deasy- an omnipresent technique or device of his, to weave real events, timelines, places and characters into the fabric of his writing. The house is situated on lovely grounds and it is my first stop on this trail! (The poet Denis Florence McCarthy lived here for a while).
Summerfield House - formerly Clifton Lodge School, at which James Joyce had his first and only job in Ireland from March to June 1904. Echoes of his famous character Stephen Dedalus resonate around here.
If one heads back down and towards the centre of Dalkey, on the west side, close to one of the three castles - Bullock Castle - one will see Colliemore Harbour, which from the late 1500's to the late 1600's, was amazingly used as Dublin's Port! Before the Port and Docks were moved to the city, it was here - which seems only fitting, considering that an old fishing village, with a rich pedigree, was located here. This is what I earmark as the second stop. (Just as well Dublin saw little drama or historical turbulence in the seventeenth century - the Cromwellian invasion and subsequent Confederate wars did touch Dublin but not initially, as Cromwell landed elsewhere!). Considering that Dalkey Quarry was a thriving Quarry (the stone used in the construction of Dun Laoghaire Harbour was extracted and sourced there), it's not that hard to visualise lots of boats, merchant sea vessels and trading going in, in the vicinity.
Bullock Castle - one of three in Dalkey, illustrating its importance in the middle ages.
Coliemore Harbour - Dublin's first verifiable harbour and port!
Coliemore Harbour - remnants of a once thriving Fishing Village with Dalkey Island in the background (a Hermitage used by a fifth century Celtic holy woman, Saint Begnet).
If one walks past the Dart Station, and takes the next right, crossing the bridge, one comes to Torca Road, and this really is starting to follow in the footsteps of George Bernard Shaw (Ireland's second Nobel Laureate and arguably one of the greatest Playwrights/Dramatists of the twentieth century). For after about a ten minute walk, ascending the incline of Torca Road, one reaches Torca Cottage, the summer holiday home of Shaw! It was owned by the music composer, George Vandeleur Lee (his mother's consort and his surrogate father), whose town residence at Hatch Street, was effectively Shaw's last home in Dublin (both places Shaw described as 'National Colleges of Life' along with the National Gallery of Ireland!). What influences and inspirations, must Shaw have garnered here? Everyday in the summer months from 1866 to 1874, looking out, with a spectacular view of Dublin Bay a mere stone's throw away?! Just across, virtually opposite, is the enigmatic Cat's Ladders - a series or flight of steps leading down to Vico Road which wouldn't be out of place like the Spanish Steps in Rome or some other exotic place (this would be the fourth stop on this trail!). The plaque at the entrance of the cottage is inscribed with a famous quote by him: "An Irishman is mortal and temporal but his hills are eternal". Spending one's summers as a teenager around here, must surely have planted this philosophising in his mind!
The aforementioned Plaque with Shaw's famous quote
Full View of the Plaque's Inscription
THE LONGTERM VIEW OF SHAW AND THE PARADIGM OF SUCCESS FOR THOSE WHO WAIT!
Standing outside the cottage on the few occasions I've been there, I've often mused in one of my soul contemplations of a young Shaw, at the cusp of his teens, roaming around here. Was he plotting a grand scheme, to prove all and sundry wrong - the orthodox academia - glorying in his 'mitching' from school? Did he grasp the taut and strong-willed essence of resilence, resolution, self-will and destiny whilst here? (By the age of 40, Shaw had only earned £50 from writing but kept persevering, persisting and retaining patience; in five years he was world-famous!). Was it here that he formulated the stratagem of being an autodiktat, in which he planted the seeds in his mind, that would ultimately bear fruit, thirty to thirty five years later?
Facade and Steps of Torca Cottage. Did a young Shaw dream up the nucleus of Pygmalion or Saint Joan whilst here?
THE LITERATI GLITTERATI
What is it exactly about Dalkey? It has such connections with George Bernard Shaw, lesser connections with James Joyce, was chosen as the setting for The Dalkey Archive and The Third Policeman by Flann O'Brien, and at least one other contemporary Irish writer has hailed from here - Hugh Leonard being to name but one. Is it the spectacular views of Dublin Bay that can be seen? (A curious fact is the number of Italian names of roads: the aforesaid Torca Road, the aforesaid Vico Road, Sorrento Road, to name but a few; this is accounted for, by the fact that in the early 1800's many of its citizens, had done the 'claim to fame' of citizens of the past - the Grand Tour - taking in Naples, and its Bay; it reminded them of Dalkey Bay, so when they returned, they coined many Italian place names for the area!). Or is it what I've often speculated generally for the abundance of writers, Ireland has produced - as abundant as the rich seeds in some field of plenty - that it's something in the soil, in the earth, which results in such a flowering of creativity and literary prowess? Perhaps that axiom or supposition could be applied to the nearby Killiney Hill (where megalithic tombs were located at one time), that Torca Road leads onto? Whatever the reason or explanation, Dalkey certainly can lay claim to being a launching pad for two of Ireland's and the world's literary greats! Literati Glitterati showers its confetti here! The Emerald Isle has many strings to its bow; this is but one of them!
In the footsteps of GB Shaw - ascending Torca Road, with Dublin Bay - part of the Green Coast - in the background.
There are two pubs - one in Galway City still standing and the other outside the city, which survived not the voracious grappling of the 'Celtic Tiger' - that I'd like to eulogise here. Both are examples of the vintage Irish pub - vintage like an old vintage car or the best of wines - and what makes County Galway so special!
The first one - Naughton's - Tigh Neachtain - I first encountered in 2002, and in 2004 I returned to show it to a Hungarian visitor. The pub is famous for Live Irish music - is an Irish music pub extraordinaire - which is saying something in the oasis, that is Galway City - has a very unique decor, photos, pub architecture, but most of all, has the typical feature of an Irish Pub - a Snug - on both sides. The Snug being the place where the shy type, the private taciturn individual, can 'hide in' and wear the garland of anonymity to one's heart's content. These Snugs are authentic to boot, and conjure up images of a novelist, a struggling poet, a murder mystery writer, snuggling up into them during the day and writing their tomes and canons. I wonder did Liam O' Flaherty ever haunt or hang out here?
But this particular visit was special for a specific reason: as I sat down in a Snug with the Hungarian visitor, I spotted in the Snug behind, a man who I recognised as the Chieftain Browne from the Browne Clan of Galway, about whom I had just read in a magazine (touch of serendipity here, I think!) with a very aristocratic foreign gentleman. I headed off to the toilet, and on the way back, I approached them (breaking the code and etiquette of privacy in the process) and said "Your name is Browne? "Yes, how did you know that?" he replied, so I explained I'd read an article about him recently. He duly invited us to join them!! We were introduced to his friend, who it just happened was Hugo O'Neill, the descendent of 'Red' Hugh O'Neill who claimed the title of the Chieftain of the O'Neills, and a rightful heir to the titles of the Earl himself. I recited him a poem and then he asked me would I do some Yeats? I did "The Lake Isle of Innisfree", then "The Stolen Child" and hand on my heart, a tear descended down his cheek, as if some army rapidly advancing across the field of peace. He thanked me; we talked some more and then parted (little did I think we'd meet again but again serendipity, as I call it, works in strange ways; three years later, I met him in Rathmullan, County Donegal, at the seminar for the '400th anniversary of "The Flight of the Earls"').
At night, the pub is brimming with Irish music and has the craic, the magic of the west and Galway, to such an extent, that one would think it had an infinite patent on such things........ and as an aside, has been known to unfurl French flags for Bastille Day! www.tighneachtain.com
The Connemara Coast Hotel This hotel has great Irish music sessions on a Thursday night, in which local musicians come to perform, doing their thing, in a laid back relaxing way! But it's the establishment's previous incarnation, when it was the music venue Teach Furbo that bids me to reminisce and go down memory lane. Going back to the 80's, the memories flood - like an inundation whose water is as pure and moist as ever - of gigs I attended there whilst on holiday in Galway. And this is riven with the presence of my father RIP (who'd such connections with the west, and especially Galway). For it was there, we went to see the legendary Wolfe Tones perform! We also saw Stockton's Wing there, if my memory serves me right! And these gigs still stand the test of time from the decade when the Irish ballad scene seemed to be at its zenith and reached its halcyon heights. Teach Furbo had a special kind of atmosphere, and the fact that it straddled the Atlantic, and was nestled at the cusp of Connemara, seemed to be part of its cocktail of magic and chemistry; it was in a great setting.
So Teach Furbo at Maam Cross - now reincarnated as the Connemara Coast Hotel - had the true 'craic' and substance of Irish pubs, music venues, ballads etc and was once again an example of everything that makes Galway special and the diadem in the crown of the west. This reminiscence is a real blast from the past for me but perhaps on Thursday nights, something of this halcyon time survives in the Coast Hotel!
There's no better place in Ireland for pubs, 'craic', musical odysseys, than both Galway city and county. To quote the great WB Yeats, they carry the spirit of "The indomitable Irishry!"
I've been to some lovely holy wells in Ireland: Saint Patrick's Well at Tara, the Well of the Saints on Inis Mor (about which I've blogged here under JM Synge), Saint Brigid's Holy Well at Faughart Graveyard, County Louth etc, but perhaps one of the most enchanting and salubrious to be found, is Trinity Well, at a place called Carbury in County Kildare near Edenderry in County Offaly (where my paternal grandmother was born). It is in such a remote, tranquil, untouched place; so much so, that it's as if one has entered an unknown chamber or chasm of Mother Eireann. Not knowing how to get to it specifically, I was brought there by someone who had been to it many times; the time we chose was most apt like picking an apple from an apple tree when the apples have just ripened - last year's Imbolc - the start of springtime and the festival of Saint Brigid (early February). Moreover, it is actually the source of the famous River Boyne - one of the thirteen major rivers of Ireland!
Trinity Holy Well - right by the source of the River Boyne
The water from the well is so pure, pristine, it seems to be imbued with the chrystalline bounty of the first waters that buoyantly bubbled and swarmed to the surface of the Emerald Isle. It remains as fresh and as invigorating, two or three weeks later; one wouldn't get any flouridation and so on, from here or indeed holy wells generally, if one used them, I dare say!! And to merely behold it and then partake of its rich fruitful essence is comparable to drinking the ambrosia of life in all its parts!
The threat and demise of Irish Holy Wells
It's sad and regrettable to say that as a part, or a microcosm of the destruction and disappearance of Ireland's heritage, the holy well like another piece of natural heritage, the bog, along with the megalithic, archaeological, architectural, cultural, is being lost to the vicissitudes of time. It is becoming harder and harder to stumble upon holy wells, on a ramble or a walk around the fields and countryside of Eireann; for many of them are covered, filled in etc, by shallow, obtuse people. So to behold one that is in a totally untouched and pristine place like Carbury is very endearing and heart warming, as endearing and heart warming, as hearing the lowing of cattle in a meadow below or the bleating of sheep or a wee lamb in the midst of the Golden Vale of Ireland!
The untouched 'Hidden' canopy of Carbury
In many ways Carbury is, cut off from the material world; it's like a natural recess or alcove. Approximately 200 metres from the Trinity Well, at the top of Carbury Hill is the ruined and abandoned Carbury Castle, standing there still, for any wanderer or rambler to stumble upon! It was owned by the Colley family, who were the patrilineal ancestors of the Duke of Wellington (Arthur Wellesley); his uncle Richard Colley, for instance, had associations with Trim, County Meath, as well. Interestingly, the hill is also called Faery Hill, and this seems in keeping with the place generally, with its significance of being the source of the River Boyne and its tranquility, much like floating under an untouched 'hidden' canopy.
Carbury Castle at the top of the Faery Hill - Ireland of the shadows!
To behold such natural relics as Irish Holy Wells, is like revisiting the cauldron of the mystical, sacred wisdom, of the majestic Emerald Isle from its golden sun of the past. They uplift, renew, reenergise, reinvigorate and replenish with their chrystalline waters and none more so than the untouched, largely unseen and tranquil Carbury - the muse is alive and well here! 'Though it's lamentable that such a natural and health inducing emblem of Ireland is being lost; at least at Carbury, I hope, it will always remain there and not fall into that category. For visiting it at Springtime, is an auspicious and apt introduction to the new season.
PS To the person who got me there by car, and saved me walking around and around, I extend my gratitude.
Directly halfway between Omagh and Cookstown in the north of County Tyrone, at the foothills of the Sperrins, is an area which is like a gaelic, cultural and archaeological gala; the place is called Creggan (an Creagan in Gaelic meaning rocky or barren place) - it is one of three places in Ulster called Creggan. In many ways, it's yet another part of hidden Ireland; hidden Ireland being the target of my quest for ten years and the purpose of this blog!
Until circa 1940, there was a Gaeltacht in this area, and it died when the last speaker Peadar Joe Haughey passed away (coincidentally and intriquingly, another Gaeltacht in south Armagh at another one of Ulster's Creggans (which has been blogged here earlier under unique enclave for Gaelic poets) died at the same time!) Both Gaeltachts were badly treated and in many ways, shafted by the Board and Department of Education in the north of Ireland in the 20's and 30's; arguably it was part of a coherent and strategic anti-Gaelic policy, to render them dead and gone! Now, there is but one Gaeltacht in the six counties in the north - in west Belfast (sprouted up in the last few decades). The cottage of Peadar Joe Haughey can be visited and is restored and displayed, as it was when he lived in it!
VESTIGES FROM THE ANCIENT PAST
The landscape around here is dotted with megaliths consisting of: Cairns, Wedge Tombs, Stone Circles, Raths, Court Tombs, Portal Tombs (Dolmens) etc. For instance, to the west of the enchanting Visitors Centre is Aghascrebagh Standing Stone, the only standing stone in County Tyrone which has an ogham inscription; Dunnamore Wedge Tomb, is also known as the Giant's Grave (such an interplay of names happens in many different places in Ireland); and approximately six miles from here is the famous Beaghmore - three pairs of Stone Circles, a circular setting of upright stones, along with five small cairns! It is the largest in Ireland! It was one fair september day, some years ago, that I went a-looking for them, as part of my megalith hunting pursuits. They are so hidden and hard to find, it's like they are covered by some invisible covering; perhaps a great pair of binoculars would have helped or just some eyes with xray vision. I walked around as one doing a series of ceremonies encirling the epicentre or a baby crawling around the navel of its father's belly - as if circumnavigating the central cog of a machine but to no avail. I was encircling the fields as if wrapping them in my breast; I was ekeing out every nuance of the countryside - so much so, that even 'though, it is a very remote and untouched area, I attracted the attention of an elderly couple - the man actually watching me with binoculars from his doorstep (I should have asked him for a loan of them when I went over to have a wee chat!).
The area also has a bogland landscape, which is a unique bogland in Ireland. The most typical type of bog in Ireland, is the one that's found in Connacht; this one is different. And the aforementioned Visitors Centre is located at the heart of it; there are some great walking treks and routes going from the Visitors Centre around the bog, like spokes from a wheel. It's such a pleasant and enjoyable ramble to inhale the smoky, pungent bog aromas around here, much like inhaling the aromas of Ireland at the dawn of its being (especially as so many of Ireland's bogs have been destroyed - up to 80%!); indeed, one can rent cottages here, called An Clachan Self Catering Cottages, which contain a traditional feature of a cul-tighe (cultyee) in the kitchen - basically, a dual purposed contraption, which fronts as a seat during the day and a bed by night!
Finally, An Creagan Visitor Centre/Bar is an excellent venue, with a beautiful, sanguine fire, which would warm the coldest of hearts and render them sentient beings of indomitable warmth! It offers an inside track, an inner sanctum, an unseen door into the traditional gaelic culture of the area; evenings of traditional music, storytelling and song are regular eye and ear catchers throughout the year and live music features each weekend.
The area called the Creggan is like a Gaelic Gala in the Sperrin foothills of Tyrone, which in many ways is not only a part of hidden Ireland but is hidden County Tyrone as well! It is an authentic and vibrant place, much like, places one finds on the Ring of Kerry - as if time locked; and a flagbearer of the Ireland that is being rapidly lost in the modern, materialistic society of today.
The Bay and harbour of Kinsale, is not a hidden sight but a very important site; for it’s here one of the most important battles in Irish history had its launching pad . Beginning on Christmas Eve (Some sources say the dates were mixed up - as there was a discrepancy over the calendars used, having the battle beginning in 1601 and other sources saying 1602!), it was the most decisive battle in the Nine Years War. The only defeat endured by the Ulster Chieftains, the Earl of Tyrone, Red Hugh O’Neill and the Earl of Tyrconnell, Red Hugh O’Donnell, the defeat resulted in a seminal event in Gaelic Ireland five years later, “The Flight of the Earls”, and hence the battle signalled the end of the Gaelic System and way of life! So the place could be described as the alma mater of the gaelic raison d'etre.
The circumstances of the battle are tinged with a number of ironies and what if’s, if only’s etc – something that has often been uttered and proclaimed at different junctures in Irish history, and would make one wonder, if history really does repeat itself! And also makes one pose the question: where is the veracity in that cliche: “The luck of the Irish”? For, the Spanish had already arrived there - since october - and were under siege (the place of landing was meant to be on the west coast, so even before it began, it was a bungled fiasco); consequentally, O’Neill and O’Donnell marched 300 miles, to rescue the beleagured Iberians (who were supposed to be the aid bringers!) – the stage was set for a military charade and if it wasn’t a real event, it would be portrayed as a tragi-comedy of immense and monumental proportions.
IRISH HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF AND THE REFRAIN OF WHAT IF!?
Of course during the 1798 rebellion, if Lord Edward Fitzgerald (with his intricate, three pronged military strategy of attack on Dublin), hadn’t been captured and mortally wounded before the rebellion, and if Wolfe Tone hadn’t been captured at Lough Swilly, the rebellion could have followed a different course, and indeed Irish history! And so the same thing can be said of the Battle of Kinsale; for the irony of the wrong place, the wrong time, the timing out of sync, was as glaring as a sun turned red, and the cruel fates that sprinkled their wares there, were as cruel as a vindictive tyrant roaming out of control! Fiasco was juxtaposed with a barrel of vile fortune.
Donal Mor O'Sullivan held out, waiting for more Spanish to come to regalvinise his defiance but ultimately the highlight or lowlight of the aftermath of the Battle of Kinsale, resulted in a legendary march called the March of O’Sullivan Beare in December 1602 - a gallant and heroic retreat amid the inclement and vicious winter of late '02 - from Cork up to Leitrim, after which only a mere 35 surivived out of the 1,000 that set out!
Kinsale - its coastline, the bay and the harbour but particularly the Bandon road - the actual battle site - is a place at which surely many spirits haunt, much like Culloden Moor in Scotland; for both locations saw the final curtain drawn on the Gaelic ways of life in each country. And moreover the place and battle site is a testimony to “THE BAD LUCK OF THE IRISH!”. Rather than just explore the touristy town, one needs to grasp this soul resonator of Ireland’s history - the site of the Battle of Kinsale.
“The day our kingdom died”
The winds changed like fickle Gods
and the seas rose up
like whipping rods
around the Bay of Kinsale;
the seagulls and swallows warmed
to the coming of the Gaels
the elements in strains
flickered for an eternity;
motion and time's warring trains
and the Clans fraternity
made shadows on the waves!
Alas! the seas were blighted
and troughs on the waves
no MORE Spanish ships were sighted!
Doomsday blazed in the sun
and the Munster sky strayed out
o'er the Kingdom of McCarthy
Armageddon's roots played out!
The two 'Red' Princes -
wind pacing to a halt -
their destiny locked in clinches:
O'Neill and O'Donnell
the twin maelstroms in twain
Tir Eoghain and Tir Connell!
Nature hung back
and clouds waited for the pall,
in dread of the battle's smoke
the clamour of the squall;
the two maelstroms held back
the fullness of their fall
infinitely waiting WAITING
for more Iberian ships
to answer the Gaels call!
Ah too late anchored the slips
too long the Princes did stall
and hence the Earls set sail
when the Gaelic life died at Kinsale!
* The above poem was written on the 400th anniversary of the Battle of Kinsale, January 2002.
Meteorites are one of the great conundrums or phenomena of astronomy, mysteries and enigmas of antiquity. They have perplexed and been revered by many ancient cultures around the world: regarded by some as 'Gifts from the Heavens' or thrown to earth as gifts; the Greeks used them in the Temple of Delphi and their chronicles are sprinkled profusely with references to them and their sacred importance; the famous Ka'aba in Saudia Arabia, where Muslims do the pilgrimage of Mecca is believed to be an ancient meteorite; hence, a meteorite was regarded and revered as a sacred stone, and those who possessed it could wield much power and impact (excuse the pun) upon their life and environs. Native Americans regarded them as so sacred – particulary the Navajo and Hopewell culture – guarding them with a vigilance as if guarding a mystical Grail, Ark or Philosopher's Stone – that they even deposited them in graves and hid them beneath rocks (1). And some Christian Fundamentalists interpret the Book of Revelation chapter 6 Verse 13: “And the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind”, as alluding to Meteorites (and of course a gigantic meteorite caused the manifold landscape destruction at Tunguska in Siberia in 1908). So it was when, at least the third Meteorite of 2010, hit Ireland on the evening of November 28, that I decided to explore their enigmatic pricelessness and write this article. For to quote John Milton in his famous poem Paradise Lost: “Lucifer shone..... like a meteor in the flaming air”.
The first meteorite to hit Ireland this year occured on the evening of Feb 3 at 6 PM. It was seen by many people around the country (2). (And as a curious example of serendipity, synchcronicity or bizarre coincidence, I was travelling in a car with a friend in County Leitrim and having a conversation about Gaelic mythology and how the famous mythical people, the Tuatha De Danaan, purportedly 'Set fire and burned their ships' after coming here, when Matt Cooper on his early evening current affairs show, reported being deluged with texts from listeners seeing 'Fireballs!' - anyway enough of this digression). The location of its impact was subsequently determined to be CRIMLIN in County Cavan ref.www.astronomyireland.ie; and herein is another slighly curious coincidence: the first of only three definitive hits in Ireland in the twentieth century occurred at a place called CRUMLIN in County Antrim in 1902 – almost identical to the placename for the February 3, 2010 Meteorite!
UNPRECEDENTED METEORITE HITS IN IRELAND
So the first meteorite to hit Ireland this year, arguably led to a chain, if you like, in that more followed; in May there was a report of one to hit the Emerald Isle in Cork but this wasn't verified; a verifiable second occurred on September 3 – whose possible location was somewhere in County Clare (3); and the aforementioned definite third of sunday November 28 (4). This is unprecedented in the historical archive of definitive Meteorite hits in Ireland! Could they be portents of something for the future? Let's look at a few interesting coincidences re. previous Meteorites...... on April 25, 1969, two Meteorites hit Ireland; one was found at Sprucefield, County Antrim, and the other was found 65 km north west of there in county Derry (5). It was after this the 'Troubles' started to accelerate in the north! The next hit was on November 28, 1999, and this Meteorite was found at Leighlinbridge, County Carlow (6). This was simultaneous to the protests at the WTO Summit in Seattle, Washington, which was the start of the socalled anti Globalisation movement, which subsequently involved massive demonstrations around the world in the new Millenium. And now leap forward to the recent third Meteorite, and what do we find? It also occurred on November 28! Hitting the Emerald Isle at 5.40 PM – this coincidentally and strikingly so - like beating a drum of infinite percussions – is the exact time the 'Bail Out' contents and conditions were being announced!!
So could it be that the first and second meteorites were building up to, ultimately, the recent third one, and that these are actual portents for “Ireland in the coming times” (WB Yeats). Could they herald the dawning of a rising of consciousness in the Irish people or indeed around the world or alternatively great hardship or economic travail, vis-a-vis the belief that a meteorite heralded the advent of the Dark Age? Conjecture but food for thought nonetheless leading on to something else....... But before I move on - some interesting things that happened subsequent to November 28, 1999 were:
the Irish Government officially signed over their territorial claim to the North of Ireland;
they signed Ireland into the Partnership for Peace (NATO under another name) which had repercussions for Irish neutrality;
And direct rule of the north of Ireland passed from London to Stormont in the north via the power-sharing executive.
Interestingly these all pertain to changes in SOVEREIGNTY!
THE DIALECTIC OF SEEDING
An intriquing facet of meteorites is the hypothesis that meteorites have had the capacity to 'seed' new life in organisms; it's been found that meteorites, in the distant past, have produced such an eventuality (7). Basically, as meteorites, are fragments that break off dead asteroids, they are thus parts of objects (asteroids) that would have been born or engendered when the Solar System began and hence carried a DNA blueprint. This is an intriquing scenario; and again it could be linked to the ancient belief that a meteorite was a 'Sacred Stone' – 'A gift from the Heavens' or the debris, so to speak, from a galactic battle between angels. Hence, they could be analagous to the Elixirs of Life, the Philosopher's Stone or indeed the Alchemist's adamantine and priceless stone! So what if these at least three meteorites that have fallen to Ireland in the year 2010, could 'seed' some new organism to grow – or metaphorically signify some evolution or mutation in consciousness? A 'seeding' of some new organism/life? Or could it simply signify the 'Mother Goddess of the universe cometh?'
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS WITH AN EYE WITNESS
To return to the recent meteorite, the following Q and A's were conducted with eye-witness, Miriam Kelly, of Monasterevin, County Kildare.
What were the exact colours of of the fireball – body and tail etc?
MK: It was white/yellow with a tint of green off the tail.
For how long did you see it? And did you hear any sound afterwards?
MK: When I spotted it, it only lasted a few seconds. Perhaps 4 -5 seconds. I was in the car driving so I did not hear any sound.
How far away would you estimate it was and would you be able to judge in what direction it was travelling – north/south, east/west etc?
MK: It's hard to tell the distance from the ground.. It was clearly visible in both colour and shape. It was almost moving towards a south west direction.
4. Have you ever seen anything similiar before – namely lights, bright flashes, lights in the sky?
MK: Yes, a few years ago, I was standing outside my house at night and saw a ball of light
fall straight down from the sky. It looked like it fell in the field beside me; it was that close.
But you never know the size of these things; it could have been miles away.
5. Would you say you have an interest in Astronomy?
MK: Yes, I never studied it – only Geography, but I've always had a general interest in it. I own a telescope and am a member of Astronomy Ireland.
6.Did you notice or see ANYTHING strange afterwards, even in the next 48 hours?
MK: No, I never noticed anything.
7. Did you tell anyone else or do you know anyone else who saw it?
MK: No, I had seen comments on Facebook and heard about it on local radio.
8. Would you describe yourself as superstitious?
MK: No, not at all.
9. Did you report it to Astronomy Ireland, for instance?
MK: Yes.
What is certainly suggestive from this eye witness feedback is that the fireball was travelling southwest of Kildare, which would mean it was heading for county Laois on its onward trajectory!
HEALTH, RADIATION AND OTHER CONSEQUENTAL PHENOMENA OF METEORITES
In 2007, a Meteorite in Peru, was found to have caused sickness in people who were in close proximity to it; typical symptoms were nausea etc. It was reported as a 'mystery illness' (8). What is also often theorised is that the Chernobyl disaster was caused by a meteorite but this is of course, ill founded. (As an aside, an interesting movie postulates the radiation effects that a Meteorite can cause - although only fiction; it's called The Andromeda Strain.) How interesting it would be if anything similiar ocurred after other Meteorites, particularly any of Ireland's 'Roll of honour'('though it is said they are all safe and pose no health risks). A bizarre 'oddity' and piece of nomenclature of Meteorites is what's often referred to as “Starjelly”- explained as a type of pondscum emitting an odious smell at the site of a Meteorite. Such a phenomenon was reported in Ireland after a Meteorite hit in the late 1600's (10). It would be interesting to find if this has been noted after any of our recent meteorites!
CONCLUSION
The unprecedented occurrence of up to at least three Meteorites in Ireland this year; particularly the third one, having some interesting coincidences etc, makes me wonder could they be harbingers or portents for something in our future? Alternatively, they could simply represent an increasing prevalence of such wonders, rather than 'Signs in the sky'; but if so, a dramatic and astonishing strike rate for 2010! In essence, one thing is for sure, they are food for thought........... food of an exotic nature that will render the most conservative of taste buds relishing and salivating on them.
The Fireballs
Tumbling down to Erin's fastness
the fireworks of the Heaven's kelp;
blazing last gasps of vastness
imploded like a lion's whelp
into the ether of sun dance;
did they herald a rebel romance?
Fireballs glancing omniscient
what xray vision their aura;
the eye of Horus prescient
with love imbued aurora
like a sage's pure fire nascent?
Such a clutter in the airy stem
three fragments derail and swear
their allegiance to another gem
must burn off like a milky mare
metabolism o' Heaven's hem!
To shed unwanted skin they bored
great rocks broke and parted
like babes from umbilical cord
with sleight of feet darted
to earth - the prophet's fruit poured!
Three flints firing their sickle
with chants of the seraphs;
Fireballs pure the land tickle
for Erin's charms choreograph
in shards sprinkle their nickel
Enigmas to the Ast-
ronomer and Geologist
three great rocks hurtled fast
to the Emerald Isle like a fist
of galactic dynamite -
there was subtlety in their wrist!
Now reason three meteorite
hit Ireland with a golden light
were they a message or a presage or just lonely anchorites?
One of the most intriquing monuments that I’ve seen on my travels to many places in Ireland, is the “Gods of the Neale” monument in the village of the Neale, south Mayo, between Ballinrobe and Cong. I first encountered it by pure chance in 2003 ('though I had been been to the area up to twenty times previous to that, I ironically never knew of its existence). It's one of those coincidences that I talk about in my book about the Languedoc and Rennes-le-Chateau, and is an example of sychronicity falling into place at the right time!
Located on the estate of Lord Kilmaine (John Browne) who moved to Mayo in the late 1500's and then settled around the Neale; it is a type of stepped pyramid-like monument with a central carving, depicting three figures: a Griffin (a mythological creature from antiquity), a horse and an angel. Beneath it is a long, slightly faded - like the way stone fades from the abrasions of time - medieval inscription carved in medieval writing, clearly referring to something way back in the far distant past. It refers to a Diana Ffeale (a possible synonym for the goddess Danu of the magical Tuatha De Danann from mythology!) but probably Diana should be split up into two words Dia na and hence Dia na Feile in the Gaelic, would render a meaning: "Gods of Welcome"; the naming of the Neale derived from this; the God Conginus (from whom Cong got its name) and Lugh, the Sun god from our mythology – Lugh of the Long Hand (who it's believed was buried at the Long Stone of the Neale (a Standing Stone in the area!). One possible interpretation of the carved inscription, could be that it is signifying, that the place was at the very least an ancient Druidic Grove.
From Left to right: A horse, an angel and a Griffin, to which the Bardic Searcher is pointing.
Where the picture gets muddied and befuddled, is the fact, that the monument is unknown outside the locality and according to local tradition, the monument was found in a nearby cave, at which time some person then engraved it for posterity. The inscription, is dated 1745 as its signature, at the end of the narrative; the clear inference is, the narrator and chronicler, wanted to preserve the knowledge and memory of something significant about the area for posterity. (Assuming the whole thing isn’t an elaborate joke on the part of someone at that time; such as an associate or colleague of the then Lord Kilmaine in 1745!).
PROBABLE AUTHENTICITY AND IMPORTANCE ATTACHED TO THE AREA
But to throw weight on the side of it being authentic, and a genuine allusion by the narrator and carver, to something very significant about the place and the area, is the fact that the area is steeped in mythology and megaliths. No less than William Wilde (father of Oscar) had a house in the area, explored and studied it at length, which he documented in his beautiful book My own true Corrib. He was convinced the megaliths proved our mythology to be true and that the area was the staging post for one of the Battles of Moytura between the Fir Bolg and the Tuatha De Danaan. (To digress, there is a huge cairn nearby in the Neale called Eochaidh’s Cairn, believed to be the burial cairn of Eochaidh - the last Fir Bolg king killed during the battle and there is also the second biggest cairn in Connacht in the townland of Cross – Ballymacgibbon Cairn – where it’s believed the battle started! Additionally, the Pyramid Folly a short distance away in the Neale as well, is believed to be on the site of the barrow/tumulus where Slainge was buried (another fatality from the battle!) Perhaps the “Gods of the Neale” is in some way tied into the battle or could it depict something even more ancient? Around Cong, for instance, there are many subterranean galleries and caverns, and the bizarre natural phenomenon, to be seen in Cong, of the “Rising of the Waters”, when the lake, Loch Mask, suddenly shoots up from its underground cavern for about ten metres before going back underground! The area is a hot bed for mystery and phenomena!
Perhaps it was no accident that this Lord Browne, set up shop and planted his estate here? Perhaps he established a Masonic lodge, or was aware of the significance of the place, and was doing covert searches and explorations himself?! All of this is conjecture, as the monument has never been studied or analysed, as hereto stated! But there is one thing about which I’m certain: the monument called the “Gods of the Neale” is for me, one of the most bizarre, perplexing and intriquing monuments in the country and is a great example of hidden Ireland. It needs to be studied and investigated deeply!
Esoteric moment at the "Gods of the Neale" - with its enigmatic carved inscription; one of the most intriquing monuments I've found in Ireland.
"The Gods of the Neale":
Where fires of truth burn magma
and myth in cerebral fusion
some sage has carved without stigma
the silver plinth in his infusion
Hidden Ireland hath many claimants
of hidden treasures many suitors
but one perplexes like a book of payments
and intriques the most abstract tutor
Where lakes vibrate as they gleam:
sweet Conn, Corrib and Mask;
what writers, wordsmiths, speak eloquent
of the Scarab Beetle in its cask?
Near the 'Plains of Moytura' ancient
the 'Pilgrim of mysteries' is sentient!
Who were the 'Gods of the Neale':
of some Elder race the remnants
like the Tuatha De Danaan regal?!
What artist with carved pennants
came but to auction the Eagle?
Or were they but fallen idols
toppled by unknown tremors?
Are the Griffons mere symbols
the wax of long lost candles?
Did they have coats of many armours
more evolved than Neolithic farmers?
The 'Gods of the Neale' monument
'tween Ballinrobe and Cong, Mayo -
pounds my brain like a sharp instrument
Long lost Gods, Angels, Elders, who know?!
