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.
Ross Errilly Friary. Panorama by Joshua Albers, May 26, 2013.
Ross Errilly Friary is probably the best preserved Franciscan monastery in Ireland; it is also one of the largest. Yet the site is curiously absent from many guidebooks and harder to find than more tourist-ready destinations. As a result, we found it gloriously uncrowded.
Founded in 1351, the monastery was enlarged in 1498 and ultimately abandoned in 1753. Now left largely unguarded, the remains sit beside a slim stream amongst sprawling cattle pastures.
The central cloister demarcates the boundaries of the more private spaces of the monks’ former living quarters from the church and bell tower. The domestic sections include a bakery, kitchen (complete with a water tank for live fish), dining hall, and, on the upper floors, dormitories. The presence of more recent graves throughout the building suggests that the entire structure is still on consecrated ground.
Photo by Joshua Albers, May 26, 2013.Photo by Joshua Albers, May 26, 2013.
Photos by Renée DeVoe Mertz, May 26, 2013, unless otherwise stated.
Dolmen on the north side of Carrowmore Megalithic Cemetery.
Although less well-known than Brú na Bóinne and the tombs of Knowth or Newgrange, Carrowmore is home to one of the largest Stone Age cemeteries in Europe. It was once the greatest collection of passage tombs and dolmens in Ireland, but quarrying has destroyed much of the original site and many of the 40 or so remaining tombs are on private land. Even so, a walk through rolling fields punctuated with megalithic graves is impressive, particularly when the weather cooperates. And, because it is less popular, visitors have much more freedom to wander and explore at Carrowmore than at Brú na Bóinne.
The site is divided by a small road, but both sides are accessible with the same ticket from the visitors’ center. The north side also provides a clear view of the legendary tomb of Queen Maeve [Medbh or Medb], the enormous, unexcavated cairn which sits atop Knocknarea mountain about 2.5 miles west of Carrowmore.
Back in the Republic of Ireland, we decided to call it a day and spend the night in the port town of Sligo (Sligeach), which Wikipedia tells me is the most populous area of Sligo County. It is also the setting for Sebastian Barry’s bleak but beautiful novel, The Secret Scripture, which relates the history of 20th century Ireland through the life of a nearly 100-year-old mental patient.
Despite Barry’s less-than-complimentary depiction of Sligo as a town defined by its harsh weather, closed minds, and divided politics, we found the people friendly and the city center, perched along the River Garavogue, lovely. It was also surprisingly popular, and we had to try several B&Bs before we could find one with a free room.
Most places were closed by the time we settled-in on Saturday evening, so we decided to wait for the friary to open before leaving in the morning. As a result, we were the first people there and had the site almost entirely to ourselves for the duration of our visit.
View of Sligo Abbey’s nave with rood screen (center) and O’Crean tomb, 1506 (left). Photo by Joshua Albers, May 26, 2013.
Although popularly known as Sligo Abbey, the monastic ruins near the town’s center are technically the remnants of a Dominican friary. The terminological slippage is quite common—most “abbeys” in Ireland are in fact friaries—and quite understandable, as the two types of structures are nearly interchangeable in both function and appearance. The most basic difference is simply that monks (and abbots) lived in abbeys, whereas friars lived in friaries. Because a monk’s lifestyle was generally private—focused on personal prayer and meditation—abbeys tended to be closed to the broader public. Friars, on the other hand, went on preaching pilgrimages and encouraged their communities to worship in their churches. Architecturally speaking, the differences are even more subtle. Friaries usually have tall, narrow bell towers, while an abbey’s tower is relatively short and broad.
Sligo’s friary was founded in c. 1253 by Maurice Fitzgerald when the town was still a Norman settlement. Some of this early building survives, although much of the friary was rebuilt in the 15th century. Its most unusual aspects include a 15th century rood screen, two elaborate tomb monuments, and the only remaining sculpted stone altar in Ireland.
Although the altar is probably the most significant feature of the site, we were even more taken with the local Gastropods, particularly the large and rather weathered specimen we still affectionately refer to as “the Sligo Snail.” Perhaps the most expressive invertebrate I’ve met, we watched him/her devour flowers for at least a quarter of an hour. If you’ve never seen a snail eat, I recommend checking-out Josh’s time-lapse of the process. It’s kind of adorable.
