Newgrange is brilliant. It's a single mound, similar to those at Knowth, only much larger. It had been lost to history, thought only a natural hill and used as farmlands. Occasionally a lump of quartz would turn up there, and when the Scottish landlord who owned the place decided to begin mining for the stuff, Newgrange itself must have cried out ( Read more... )

My last day in Ireland I'd saved for Newgrange, Knowth, and Dowth. To get there one must sign up for a tour. Misery. Pestilence. Woe. Most often, I believe, the hired coaches only go to Newgrange, the most widely known of the three, but I befriended the driver, told him how much I'd like to see everything I could, and he did a fantastic job of ( Read more... )

The cathedral itself is something of a museum now. The original had been built, supposedly, by Saint Brighid, whom the museum and church readily admitted had once been a goddess. "That other Brighid," they called her, which is very similar to what my grandmother (not the one who is praying for me, although this one might be too) usually called a ( Read more... )

"The monastery, though," the driver remembered and asked, "which one do you mean ( Read more... )

From Cahersiveen I made my way to Cork. My delight upon entering a city again was as complete as it was unexpected. My utter surprise at finding more than a few buildings located within close proximity of one another may have seemed reasonable had I been away from cities for a few months or years as opposed to maybe a week. But I love the urban, ( Read more... )

The next morning I woke up a bit early in order to attempt to make the walk out to the oratory. I was accompanied by an American woman from the hostel who also wanted to see it, and a photocopy of a map given to me by a nice woman at the visitor centre. The walk was to be about eight kilometres each way on small country roads. There aren't walkways ( Read more... )

People, including a good many of the ones from Ireland, apparently love Dingle. A German girl with whom I spoke for a bit at the first hostel in which I'd stayed mentioned that it was the one place an Irish family she'd met told her she absolutely had to see. The locals I've encountered couch surfing seemed genuinely happy for me when I told them ( Read more... )

Written 1/8/08 for The period between 28/7/08 and 30/7/08 ( Read more... )

Most of my thoughts in recent months have been dedicated to attempting to decide upon a reasonable future. Not the entire future, mind, just the next year or more of my own. I know that I'd rather not live in the States. If I did stay, I'd be interested in organic farming on the west coast, although most of my attempts to learn about it have failed ( Read more... )