Following on from our visit to Glasnevin Cemetery a few weeks ago, and our tour of Daniel O’Connell’s crypt, I thought it would be a nice idea, while we were in Kerry on holidays, to visit Abbey Island and the burial place of Daniel’s wife, Mary O’Connell.
If you’re driving the M7 from Dublin to Portlaoise and you’ve an interest in photographing old ruins, then you could do worse than to take a detour out to the Rock of Dunamase.
At the top of the rock are the ruins of Dunamase Castle. The castle dates from the 12th century although the rocky outcrop was the site of a fort that was originally constructed in the 9th century.
I’d been threatening to visit the site for as long as I can remember seeing the signpost for it pointing off the M7, and I finally got the chance a few weeks ago as I was on my way back from Dublin. Continue reading
We went for a spin last weekend and took in some of Waterford’s Copper Coast which I always thought was named after it’s beautiful sandy beaches. I never knew that there was an entire copper mining industry in the area in the 1800s. Maybe I can be forgiven for this considering I’m technically a ‘blowin’.
Driving through an area called Tankardstown we came across these buildings, which are the remains of the old copper mine that operated there from 1850 to 1879.
The Dublin Mining Company had moved their operations to Tankardstown in 1850 and business reached its peak in 1865. This however was followed by a steep decline and eventually in 1879 all the engines were sold for scrap and the buildings fell into disrepair. Continue reading
While we were staying in beautiful Mannix Point Camping in Kerry a couple of weeks ago, Bláthnaid and I ventured out to Ballycarbery Castle on foot.
The Castle didn’t look too far from the campsite and we thought (or rather I thought) that it would be a nice stroll.
The castle was a lot further away than we (I….’I’, I am reminded….) thought it would be, and I had some job to keep Bláthnaid going, after she deemed my statement of ‘It’s only around the corner’ to be an untruth.
A few weeks ago I was searching for somewhere in Ireland to take a week’s holidays. Just a change of scenery for myself and himself, and the two girls (16 and 20).
Camping is our preference. Also important is peace and quiet at night. And scenery. And close proximity to shops and night life (just in case we get fed up with the peace and quiet). Oh…and a beach – daughter number one had placed great importance on the presence of a nice sandy beach.
Not an easy task to find a campsite in Ireland that ticks all the boxes, as I soon found out.
A campsite that we’d been to a couple of years ago in Kilmuckridge was ruled out as there weren’t many shops around. Another one in Cork was also crossed off the list for the same reason. Our favourite campsite in Killarney didn’t fit the bill as there was no sandy strand within walking distance. Mayo was deemed too far as we were only going for one week. One by one, potential sites were eliminated from a list that I’d compiled from various camping websites and recommendations on forums.
I came across the website for Mannix Point camp site during my search and thought the place sounded lovely. I liked the warm, personal welcome from Mortimer Moriarty in the ‘About’ section of the website. I loved the pictures in the photo gallery of the pitches beside the water, with yachts sailing by. And the music sessions in the camper’s sitting room with turf fire sounded just perfect. And on a discussion forum that I consult on an occasional basis, another user who was in Mannix Point at the time, recommended it.
Driving from Cahirciveen to Sneem or somewhere last week, we passed through Waterville. From the main road I could see this derelict building in the distance and was curious to know what it was. So we turned off the road, towards the coast, to get a closer look (because, as you know, I’m nosey like that), and parked the car beside the beautiful sandy beach nearby.
It’s good to be back home!
I’m just back from a week in the beautiful Kingdom of Kerry, bringing home a mountain of photographs that will take me an eternity to process, and a massive laundry pile of sheets, sleeping bags, towels, clothes, etc., etc. Camping is great, but it has its teeny disadvantages.
This evening I was skimming through the images I took, when I came across this one of a small pub on Valentia Island.
It’s a fascinating place, in off the coast, and I had visions of it being the last glimpse of home for many people before they set sail from the Iveragh Peninsula for America during the famine years .
Heading for Glengoole after turning off the M8, there’s a sign to the right for Boulick Burial Ground. I’d been there once before but it wasn’t such a great day for photos. Driving home from Durrow last weekend I decided to stop by again.
Browsing through Twitter at the weekend I came across the hashtag #gcmbloggers being tweeted from a group of Dublin Bloggers visiting Glasnevin Museum and Cemetery. The tweets reminded me that I’d told the girls that, during the summer holidays, I’d take them to Glasnevin to visit the resting place of their great grandparents. So yesterday (Monday) we push-started the car, which was having one of its (many) moments, and took a spin up to Dublin.
Shanrahan Cemetery, just outside Clogheen, is the burial place of Fr. Nicholas Sheehy. Fr. Sheehy was born in Fethard in 1728 and was Parish Priest in Clogheen. He was a friend of the ‘Whiteboys’, (a secret Irish organisation that rebelled against landlords and tithe collectors).
In 1766 Fr. Sheehy was tried in Clonmel for the murder of a John Bridge. He was convicted, and hung, drawn and quartered (a very gruesome death that I cringe at the thought of, ever since watching Braveheart). He protested his innocence to the end, and I read somewhere that, to this day, a black cloud hangs over Clonmel as a result of this wrongdoing. I can testify though that the black could only appears when I hang my washing out.
Detailed information on Fr. Sheehy can be found on Waterford Museum’s website. It’s an interesting read.