AFTER YESTERDAY'S LIE-IN, WE got up early today for a trip east to Waterford. Our objective: Get some Waterford Crystal! (But we had identified a few other things to do, too.)
From west to east, Kerry, Cork, and Waterford are the three southernmost counties of Ireland. The route from Killarney to Waterford would take us to Mallow (well-known to folk musicians from the air, The Rakes of Mallow, though the tune may be English in origin), then we could bend southward via Fermoy and Dungarvan, or northward via Caher, Clonmel, and Mooncoin. The difference in distance and time was slight (about five minutes in it), so it was another Irish tune, the Mooncoin Jig, decided it for us.
We expected to get to Waterford by midday, but the journey took much longer, mostly stuck behind slow trucks (50 kph at most) on “A-class roads” (National Highways, nominally 100 kph) that are actually country lanes. As a result, it was mid-afternoon by the time we got to Waterford and found the Waterford Crystal factory at Dungarvan.
Our first priority was lunch, which we took in the excellent café, but we decided against the factory tour because it was so late, and we’d already watched glass-making in Scotland and Venice. Instead, we toured the exhibition and gift shop, but most frustratingly we were unable to take photos because all our batteries seemed to be flat. Still, we’d travelled with intent, and looked round the gift shop for a suitable piece of glassware.
In the end, we bought a “Stuart” vase featuring fuchsia decoration, in recollection of all the wild fuchsia we’d seen on our Ring of Kerry tour. (We deliberately overlooked the fact that it was made in Germany, and not in Waterford; most “Waterford Crystal” seems to be made in Europe nowadays, and there are rumours that the factory in Waterford is to close. In any case, “Stuart” crystal was originally English, and was bought up by Waterford Crystal last century. It’s a global economy!)
We left Waterford around 6 p.m. and drove down to Ardmore, a fishing village and beach resort at the foot of a short, rocky, and somewhat elevated promontory which juts out into the Celtic Sea to the south of Dungarvan Harbour (pictured). Driving through the village and up the hill, we found a narrow parking space across the road from the top end of the Sailors’ Graveyard.
Do cemeteries have a special attraction for us, in view of Aghadoe? Not exactly; the Ardmore cemetery surrounds St Declan’s cathedral, with its historic oratory and spectacular round tower. Margaret stayed in the car while Don went to Investigate and Record (despite the camera, or its new batteries, as the case might be, refusing to play ball).
Everyone knows that St Patrick brought Christianity to Ireland; except local people, and historians, know that St Declan was one of four bishops who preceded him in converting parts of Ireland to the new faith—and what’s more, where St Patrick was a Welshman, St Declan was a native Waterford man, born somewhere between Cappoquin and Lismore, and almost became the country’s patron saint. Yet most Irishmen know little about him.
The tower, built of pinkish sandstone blocks, is easily visible for miles, and dominates the village from all directions. Dating from perhaps the 10th century (perhaps five centuries after Declan
himself) but excellently preserved, it stands about 5 metres across at ground level (17 ft), tapering to about 3 metres just below its conical cap, the tip of which is about 30 metres aloft (100 ft).
These towers were commonly built by monastic communities for self-defence in times of trouble (this was the period of the Viking raiders). The entrance doorway (long lacking its door) is something like four metres up (12 to 13 ft). When danger threatened, the monks would scramble up a ladder with the monastery treasures and pull the ladder up behind them. (There are three storeys inside, reached by internal ladders.)
The ruined church (known rather incorrectly as St Declan’s Cathedral) has its own points of interest, especially the 12th-century west gable, with several carved panels showing scenes from the Bible. Nearby is “St Declan’s oratory”, dating from the 8th century, reworked in the 18th, but reputedly the saint’s grave. As Don wandered round, a gardener trimming the lawn kindly gave him an information leaflet!
From the top of the cemetery, we drove back down into Ardmore and through to the seafront, in search of toilets. It was probably the finest weather we had during our Ireland visit, and while the beach wasn’t exactly packed, there was an appreciable number of holidaymakers on the sand and even (brave souls) in the sea! (And of course, the Round Tower was prominent above the village rooftops.)
We bade farewell to Ardmore and drove westward and into Cork County, crossing the River
Blackwater at Youghall, skirting Cork itself, and heading south-westwards towards Clonakilty and Skibbereen. Between the two, near Ross Carbery, we turned off the main road (the N71) onto the Glandore Road and so down a farm lane to a parking area marked for the Droumbeag (or Drombeg) Stone Circle. From there it was a ten-minute walk to the site, down a lane densely packed with wild fuchsia.
The counties of Cork and Kerry have 100 of the 145 known stone circles of the Irish Republic,
and Cork itself has 86. Drombeg is one of the finest, made up of an above-average number (17) of above-average size stones, which grade in height from the tallest (the “portal stones”), at the north-eastern entrance, to the lowest, either side of the recumbent “axis stone”. (Four of the stones are now missing.) The photo is taken along the north-east—to—south-west axis, with the portal stones closest and the axis stone opposite, behind which the sun sets at Midwinter, gliding from upper left corner towards the left-of-centre, to disappear into the cleft of the hills.
Drombeg is obviously a pre-Christian site, though not Stone Age (its age is disputed; some
authorities reckon it Iron Age, perhaps around 150 BC, while carbon dating suggests it was in use a thousand years earlier). Its exact function can only be guessed at, but it seems to be almost complete. It was excavated in 1957, and in the centre was found a pit containing a deliberately-broken pottery urn, wrapped in coarse cloth, containing the cremated remains of a youth. A (very) small fortune in coins, with other modern offerings, marks the location.
We’d known about the Drombeg circle before we came (it was why we were travelling back to Killarney the long way round), but the site included two extra features which surprised and delighted us. A few metres to the west are the foundations of two round stone-walled huts, probably of similar age to the circle. You can walk through them from one to another and gain a little of the feel of Iron-Age life.
The other surprise was south of the main site, where a small spring marks the start of a shallow stream which keeps the site somewhat marshy (at least, that’s how we found it). The spring has
been protected by a low stone wall and partially roofed, with a stone embankment extending south from it to enclose a trough and hearth. The assemblage is called a Fulach Fiadh, a hunters’ cooking site; they would fill the trough with water from the spring (or “well”), heat stones in the hearth, and use the hot stones to boil the water and cook meat and vegetables. (An experiment showed that hot stones placed in the filled trough could boil 70 gallons of cold water in just over a quarter of an hour.) All three parts of the site—the circle, the huts, and the cooking site—are probably contemporary, though the cooking site was still in use in early Christian times.
By now, the sun was well on its way down; we left for Killarney about 8 p.m., and arrived in town at 10:10 via back roads. It was not too late for seisíun at Farrell’s, so we joined Megs and Peter for the last time. On this occasion, they finished early (11 p.m.) as they’d already played for two hours for a tour party before coming to the pub. Don sang the first verse of The Parting Glass, quietly, as we exchanged mail addresses and said farewell …
From west to east, Kerry, Cork, and Waterford are the three southernmost counties of Ireland. The route from Killarney to Waterford would take us to Mallow (well-known to folk musicians from the air, The Rakes of Mallow, though the tune may be English in origin), then we could bend southward via Fermoy and Dungarvan, or northward via Caher, Clonmel, and Mooncoin. The difference in distance and time was slight (about five minutes in it), so it was another Irish tune, the Mooncoin Jig, decided it for us.
We expected to get to Waterford by midday, but the journey took much longer, mostly stuck behind slow trucks (50 kph at most) on “A-class roads” (National Highways, nominally 100 kph) that are actually country lanes. As a result, it was mid-afternoon by the time we got to Waterford and found the Waterford Crystal factory at Dungarvan.
Our first priority was lunch, which we took in the excellent café, but we decided against the factory tour because it was so late, and we’d already watched glass-making in Scotland and Venice. Instead, we toured the exhibition and gift shop, but most frustratingly we were unable to take photos because all our batteries seemed to be flat. Still, we’d travelled with intent, and looked round the gift shop for a suitable piece of glassware.
In the end, we bought a “Stuart” vase featuring fuchsia decoration, in recollection of all the wild fuchsia we’d seen on our Ring of Kerry tour. (We deliberately overlooked the fact that it was made in Germany, and not in Waterford; most “Waterford Crystal” seems to be made in Europe nowadays, and there are rumours that the factory in Waterford is to close. In any case, “Stuart” crystal was originally English, and was bought up by Waterford Crystal last century. It’s a global economy!)
We left Waterford around 6 p.m. and drove down to Ardmore, a fishing village and beach resort at the foot of a short, rocky, and somewhat elevated promontory which juts out into the Celtic Sea to the south of Dungarvan Harbour (pictured). Driving through the village and up the hill, we found a narrow parking space across the road from the top end of the Sailors’ Graveyard.Do cemeteries have a special attraction for us, in view of Aghadoe? Not exactly; the Ardmore cemetery surrounds St Declan’s cathedral, with its historic oratory and spectacular round tower. Margaret stayed in the car while Don went to Investigate and Record (despite the camera, or its new batteries, as the case might be, refusing to play ball).
Everyone knows that St Patrick brought Christianity to Ireland; except local people, and historians, know that St Declan was one of four bishops who preceded him in converting parts of Ireland to the new faith—and what’s more, where St Patrick was a Welshman, St Declan was a native Waterford man, born somewhere between Cappoquin and Lismore, and almost became the country’s patron saint. Yet most Irishmen know little about him.
The tower, built of pinkish sandstone blocks, is easily visible for miles, and dominates the village from all directions. Dating from perhaps the 10th century (perhaps five centuries after Declan
himself) but excellently preserved, it stands about 5 metres across at ground level (17 ft), tapering to about 3 metres just below its conical cap, the tip of which is about 30 metres aloft (100 ft).These towers were commonly built by monastic communities for self-defence in times of trouble (this was the period of the Viking raiders). The entrance doorway (long lacking its door) is something like four metres up (12 to 13 ft). When danger threatened, the monks would scramble up a ladder with the monastery treasures and pull the ladder up behind them. (There are three storeys inside, reached by internal ladders.)
The ruined church (known rather incorrectly as St Declan’s Cathedral) has its own points of interest, especially the 12th-century west gable, with several carved panels showing scenes from the Bible. Nearby is “St Declan’s oratory”, dating from the 8th century, reworked in the 18th, but reputedly the saint’s grave. As Don wandered round, a gardener trimming the lawn kindly gave him an information leaflet!
From the top of the cemetery, we drove back down into Ardmore and through to the seafront, in search of toilets. It was probably the finest weather we had during our Ireland visit, and while the beach wasn’t exactly packed, there was an appreciable number of holidaymakers on the sand and even (brave souls) in the sea! (And of course, the Round Tower was prominent above the village rooftops.)We bade farewell to Ardmore and drove westward and into Cork County, crossing the River
Blackwater at Youghall, skirting Cork itself, and heading south-westwards towards Clonakilty and Skibbereen. Between the two, near Ross Carbery, we turned off the main road (the N71) onto the Glandore Road and so down a farm lane to a parking area marked for the Droumbeag (or Drombeg) Stone Circle. From there it was a ten-minute walk to the site, down a lane densely packed with wild fuchsia.The counties of Cork and Kerry have 100 of the 145 known stone circles of the Irish Republic,
and Cork itself has 86. Drombeg is one of the finest, made up of an above-average number (17) of above-average size stones, which grade in height from the tallest (the “portal stones”), at the north-eastern entrance, to the lowest, either side of the recumbent “axis stone”. (Four of the stones are now missing.) The photo is taken along the north-east—to—south-west axis, with the portal stones closest and the axis stone opposite, behind which the sun sets at Midwinter, gliding from upper left corner towards the left-of-centre, to disappear into the cleft of the hills.Drombeg is obviously a pre-Christian site, though not Stone Age (its age is disputed; some
authorities reckon it Iron Age, perhaps around 150 BC, while carbon dating suggests it was in use a thousand years earlier). Its exact function can only be guessed at, but it seems to be almost complete. It was excavated in 1957, and in the centre was found a pit containing a deliberately-broken pottery urn, wrapped in coarse cloth, containing the cremated remains of a youth. A (very) small fortune in coins, with other modern offerings, marks the location.
We’d known about the Drombeg circle before we came (it was why we were travelling back to Killarney the long way round), but the site included two extra features which surprised and delighted us. A few metres to the west are the foundations of two round stone-walled huts, probably of similar age to the circle. You can walk through them from one to another and gain a little of the feel of Iron-Age life.The other surprise was south of the main site, where a small spring marks the start of a shallow stream which keeps the site somewhat marshy (at least, that’s how we found it). The spring has
been protected by a low stone wall and partially roofed, with a stone embankment extending south from it to enclose a trough and hearth. The assemblage is called a Fulach Fiadh, a hunters’ cooking site; they would fill the trough with water from the spring (or “well”), heat stones in the hearth, and use the hot stones to boil the water and cook meat and vegetables. (An experiment showed that hot stones placed in the filled trough could boil 70 gallons of cold water in just over a quarter of an hour.) All three parts of the site—the circle, the huts, and the cooking site—are probably contemporary, though the cooking site was still in use in early Christian times.By now, the sun was well on its way down; we left for Killarney about 8 p.m., and arrived in town at 10:10 via back roads. It was not too late for seisíun at Farrell’s, so we joined Megs and Peter for the last time. On this occasion, they finished early (11 p.m.) as they’d already played for two hours for a tour party before coming to the pub. Don sang the first verse of The Parting Glass, quietly, as we exchanged mail addresses and said farewell …
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