Holy Cross Abbey. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 29, 2013.
From Cashel we took a slight detour north in order to visit the late Gothic church of Holy Cross Abbey, located near Thurles in County Tipperary. Named for its relic of the True Cross, the abbey was restored in the late 20th century and is once again in use as place of worship and pilgrimage after spending centuries in ruin.
Holy Cross was initially founded in 1168 or 1169 by Donal Mor O’Brien for the Benedictines. However, O’Brien transferred ownership to the Cistercians in 1180, and the abbey remained in their care until its eventual suppression. The current structure was built in the 15th century and contains a number of fine Gothic details, including sculpted pillars and remnants of a frescoed hunting scene. Although much of the sculptural decoration displays an unusual degree of refinement, the abbey’s most charming and surprising features are the numerous symbols subtly carved into the interior’s stone walls like labor-intensive doodles.
Holy Cross Abbey. Photo by Joshua Albers, May 29, 2013.
All photos by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 29, 2013, unless otherwise indicated.
Rock of Cashel. View from path between the Rock and Hore Abbey. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 29, 2013.
We left Blarney as the castle and grounds were closing and made our way northeast to Cashel, arriving before nightfall. Castle-hotels are among Cashel’s many attractions, but we chose to stay at Peggy O’Neill’s B&B, one of the town’s less costly options. Our friendly host offered us the choice of two rooms: one that was large and pleasant, the other that was small and had the following view:
View of Hore Abbey from Peggy O’Neill’s B&B, Cashel. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.
We chose the smaller room.
Of course, Cashel’s main draw is its medieval stronghold and namesake, the Rock of Cashel. Perched at the city’s highest point, Rock of Cashel impresses with its blocky enormity and abundance of carved decoration. The fortress’s English name is a bit confusing, as it implies the building is in some way the “rock” of the town. In fact, Cashel is the anglicized version of the Irish caiseal, or stone fort, while “Rock” refers to the hill it sits upon.
Although the site itself dates to the 4th or 5th century when it was seat of the Kings of Munster, the oldest remaining structure is the round tower, which was erected shortly after Muircheartach Ua Briain (O’Brien) gave the Rock to the Catholic Church in 1101. Like most round towers, it was originally a free-standing structure. However, it was later incorporated into the north transept when the cathedral was built in the 13th century.
Art historically, the complex’s most distinctive feature is Cormac’s Chapel, the interior of which contains unusual sculptural details, vestiges of painted decoration, and an intricately carved tomb. Consecrated in 1134, the Chapel may be the first Romanesque church in Ireland, and is certainly the best preserved. Cormac Mac Cárthaigh (MacCarthy), a bishop and king of Munster, commissioned the building. The sarcophagus, which boasts an elaborate Scandinavian Urnes design of intertwined animals, probably held either Cormac’s remains or those of his brother, Tadhg. The frescoes—a rare feature in Ireland—are the oldest on the island. They were covered in the 16th century during the Reformation and only rediscovered in the 1980s. Restoration of the chapel is ongoing, and access is restricted to groups led by the site’s guides. These tours are free, entertaining, and informative, but if you prefer to spend the rest of your time exploring on your own, you can join the group for the chapel portion of the tour only.
Blarney castle was a fun, if kitschy, stop near Cork along our southern route back to Dublin. The 15th-century fortress is best known as the home of the famous “Blarney stone,” which allegedly gives those who kiss it the gift of gab. Kissing the stone is a bit of a feat: the only way to reach it is by laying on your back on the floor of the castle’s highest story, letting the top half of your body dangle over the edge, and arching your back to push your head even further down, all while trusting the assistant holding your feet to not let you fall. The shorter you are, the harder this is (I’m 5’6″ and my bum was dangling over the side along with my torso), but hundreds of people of varied sizes and ages do it every day.
According to legend, the saying that something is “blarney” comes from the first Queen Elizabeth. During the Reformation, Cormac MacCarthy, Lord of Blarney, visited the Queen in order to argue for his realm’s independence. He managed, through a variety of polite excuses and charm, to both delay relinquishing control and paying tribute to the crown while promising to do so in the future. Eventually, after receiving the latest in a long series of apologies and flimsy justifications for further delay, Elizabeth lost her temper and cried out in frustration: “This is all Blarney! He never means what he says!”
The castle’s extensive grounds include a charmingly deadly and informative poison garden, caves that once doubled as prison cells, and several walking paths.
All photos by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013, unless otherwise stated.
Cloister Yew Tree, Muckross Friary, Killarney National Park. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.
A gem hidden within the grounds of Killarney National Park, Muckross Friary is located about a mile (on foot) from the parking lot of the sprawling mansion known as Muckross House. The monastery was once home to the strict order of the Observantine Franciscans, but had a relatively short life as a working friary. In 1541, only about a hundred years after its founding, Henry VIII ordered Muckross’s suppression. It was re-established in 1612, but Cromwellian forces finally drove out the inhabitants and burned the structure in 1652.
Today, Muckross’s most notable feature is the old yew tree that rises dramatically from the center of its cloister. Its bell tower, which was a later edition to the building, is also unique to Irish Franciscan buildings in that it spans the full width of the church.
The trails in Muckross Estate are easily managed and bountifully lined with twisting trees and fields of flowers. However, if you prefer not to walk, jaunting cars (aka, horse-drawn carriages) are available for hire at the parking area by Friar’s Glen and Torc Waterfall. Their eager drivers compete to take tourists past the sites along Muckross lake, and are willing to bargain with would-be passengers. The ride should cost around 5 Euro.
Torc Waterfall, Killarney National Park. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.Josh in Friar’s Glen, Killarney National Park. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.
After leaving Dingle, we made our way down Iveragh Peninsula towards the ports we hoped would take us to Skellig Michael and its resident puffins. We eventually settled in for the night at the lovely Final Furlong B&B, where we watched horses graze in the backyard while the sun set over the lake.
View of the Skelligs (far backround) and nearby islands, from Iveragh Peninsula. Panorama by Joshua Albers, May 28, 2013.
We knew that getting to the Skelligs would be something of a gamble, as boats don’t go out in poor weather and weather in Ireland is unpredictable. I was, therefore, relieved the next morning to find the sky overcast but not rainy, and we hurried on to find a ship to take us to this much anticipated destination. What we didn’t realize was that even though the weather on land seemed fine, the wind was making the sea too choppy for safe passage. No ships were making the journey to the Skellig rocks that day, nor were they expected to go out in the near future. Eventually, we admitted defeat and journeyed on.
With much of the day suddenly open ahead of us, we decided to take our time along the Ring of Kerry and made multiple stops within Killarney National Park.
Upper Lake, Killarney National Park. Panorama by Joshua Albers, May 28, 2013.Iveragh Peninsula. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.Iveragh Peninsula. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.Killarney National Park. Photo by Joshua Albers, May 28, 2013.Torc Waterfall, Killarney National Park. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.Muckross Abbey, Killarney National Park. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.Yew tree in cloister of Muckross Abbey, Killarney National Park. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.Killarney National Park. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.Killarney National Park. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 28, 2013.
Built in the shape of an inverted ship during the 7th or 8th century, the structure now known as Gallarus Oratory is the best preserved early Christian church in Ireland. The building has weathered the centuries and inhospitable climate impressively well, due in part to its simple, sturdy design and dry-stone corbelling. It has only two openings: a door and, on the opposite side, a small window. Neither are now covered, although there is evidence that the doorway once was.
Buffeted by wind and waves, Ireland’s Western coast tends to be surprisingly stark and inhospitable compared to the lush mildness of the island’s interior. The contrast perhaps goes some way towards explaining why, in a country surrounded by water, beef and mutton are far more popular than fish.
This is not to say that the coastal regions are any less beautiful than the inland counties. Dingle is particularly spectacular, and having to rush through it was one the few regrets of our trip. However, we had hoped to take a boat from Iveragh Peninsula to Skellig Michael—the island’s third and final World Heritage site—the next morning, and our main goal was to see the Gallarus Oratory and Fahan Beehive Huts before settling-in near the port before nightfall.
Aside from the occasionally terrifying and stomach-churning blind turns on narrow coastal roads, the only negative memories we have of Dingle stem from the peninsula’s particular relationship with the many foreigners who drive the region’s economy and clog its traffic. Unlike the town of Adare or sites like Brú na Bóinne, Dingle’s tourist industry seems unusually decentralized and a little ad hoc. Many of the archaeological sites are on private land, and owners charge (a reasonable) admission after drawing tourists in with handmade signs. The brown landmark posts seen elsewhere in the country are mostly absent. The downside of this system is that it can be difficult to tell what is legitimate and what is a trap for gullible outsiders.
Unfortunately, we got burned early on, during our visit to the Gallarus Oratory. (For anyone going, be aware that this is a nationally owned site which is free to visit, but the neighboring visitor center is privately owned and will try to charge you). Feeling taken advantage of is of course a souring experience, and as a result we were more suspicious in our subsequent interactions than we had felt the need to be almost anywhere else on the trip. It also caused us to bypass some of the unverified sites on private land, which we soon realized was our second mistake.
Photo by Joshua Albers, May 27, 2013.
Photos by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013, unless otherwise stated.
With its thatched roofs, heavily restored churches, lush golf course, and bus loads of grey haired tourists, contemporary Adare seems more like a Disneyland for senior citizens than an Irish village. However, one of the benefits of going to a place that targets this particular demographic is that most of its attractions are fairly accessible (aside from the ruined Franciscan friary, chapel, and church located on the grounds of the Adare Manor Hotel and Golf Resort). The centrally-located Heritage Center includes a large parking lot, and quite a bit of helpful signage has been sprinkled around the town. The downside, as with most touristy spots, is that everything feels a bit over polished and unreal.
Unsurprisingly, Adare owes much of its current appearance to 19th century renovations. Undertaken by the Earls of Dunraven in the 1820s and ’30s, the village’s refurbishment included the over-restoration of the Trinitarian Priory (founded by the Fitzgeralds in 1230 and now a Catholic church and convent located next to the Heritage Center). Further down the main road on the outskirts of town is the “Black Abbey,” an Augustinian friary founded by the Fitzgeralds in 1316. Now an Anglican parish church and school, the Black Abbey sits across from the grounds of Adare Manor and near the 13th century Desmond Castle.
Ennis Friary. Photo by Joshua Albers, May 27, 2013.
The earliest remains of the Franciscan friary at Ennis (Inis) date to the late 13th century, although much of the building actually comes from the second half of the 15th century. Founded around 1285 under the royal patronage of the O’Briens, Lords of Thomond, the friary soon became a burial site for kings and earls, and the town of Ennis grew up around it. By 1617, only one friar remained.
The site was undergoing a major reconstruction project while we were there, and relatively little of the decoration was in situ. Even so, Ennis possesses a number of fine examples of Irish Renaissance relief sculpture in its interior and decorated gravestones in its cemetery.
Relief of St. Francis of Assisi with the stigmata in Ennis Friary. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Tracery canopy of the south arch. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Photo by Joshua Albers, May 27, 2013.Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Panorama by Joshua Albers, May 27, 2013.Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 27, 2013.Photo by Joshua Albers, May 27, 2013.
Central church and round tower at Kilmacdaugh. Photo by Joshua Albers, May 26, 2013.
Monuments to death and the crumbling remains of former eras dominated our trip to Ireland, but no site better conjured the macabre than the monastic settlement of Kilmacduagh.
It was also one of the most difficult destinations to find (second only to the Reyfad rock art in Northern Ireland). After a number of misfires and a detour into Coole Nature Reserve, we finally rolled into the settlement’s adjoining parking lot around dusk.
Located near the town of Gort, Kilmacduagh consists of several structures, including a well-preserved, slightly leaning round tower, an Abbott’s House (Glebe), and multiple churches. It isn’t possible to enter the tower, but getting into the Glebe and two of the churches only requires crossing the street and acquiring a key from the caretakers. But beware: they have a protective, bitey little dog, which Josh and his ankles discovered shortly after we rang their doorbell.
The site’s most obvious draws are of course the 11th-12th century round tower, Glebe, and remodeled, pre-Norman “cathedral,” all of which are grouped near the main road.
View from main road of round tower, “cathedral,” and cemetery, Kilmacduagh. Photo by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 26, 2013.Round tower with typical raised entrance (compare with the roughly contemporaneous sunken tower of Monasterboice, County Louth).Relief detail from main “cathedral.”Partially reconstructed Glebe (foreground); cathedral and round tower (background).View from side road, showing (left to right): Glebe, secondary church (across main street), “cathedral,” and round tower.
However, the most memorable building is only slightly farther afield and requires closer investigation. Found at the end of the short side road that divides the parking lot from the main site, this small, unassuming church is easily overlooked. Its central spaces—decorated with high, delicate carvings—are enterable with the key.
From the interior, this charming but modest space appears to be all there is. However, circumambulating the exterior reveals that many of the windows and doors have been filled with stone, permanently concealing large sections of the building.
Fortunately, we were not the first people to be curious about the sealed rooms, and those that came before had left us a little assistance.
We were not disappointed by what we found.
Photos by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 26, 2013, unless otherwise stated.
