Day 6 - Errands in Armagh and Castle Leslie Estate including Snaffles Restaurant

Friday, 20 September 2019
Breakfast at Castle Leslie Lodge is taken in the same space as Snaffles Restaurant, upstairs. The beauty of reporting after we've returned home is that I can say without any hesitation that the breakfast at Castle Leslie Lodge was easily the best I had on this trip. This was because of the French Toast they do there. Cooked to perfection, served with a combination of a little pot of berries and a second little pot of thick sticky maple syrup, and just to round it off, a physallis complete with it's papery wings. Utterly divine.  Hubby is still stuck on the full Irish and is enjoying the mix of white and black pudding, and we enjoy trying the little triangles of potato bread though for the life of me I can't recall what it should be called.

What is that potato griddle scone thingy called?

Best French Toast ever! Totally first class.

Hubby's main occupation in life at the moment is keeping me in the land of the almost mentally stable, calm and reassuring. Without him I'd be just about ready to be sectioned (committed for hospital treatment). Yesterday coming back from afternoon tea we took our time as I made sure I captured photographs of the beautiful driveway to the castle, it's mossy shade and water tower, the church and the gorgeous garden seating and autumn creepers on the lodge building itself. Now the SD cards are corrupted again and they and the photos of afternoon tea are considered lost. In the end, our morning which was to be chilling in luxury, is allocated to heading into Armagh to an IT store to try for cables for downloading or at least a better quality card reader. We need at least one of the actual cameras ticking over nicely and for some reason even the iPhone isn't cooperating. Yeah I know, it's probably user error, a thought which doesn't really reduce my anxiety level.
The IT store is co-located with the post office. We have luckily nabbed a parking spot just outside. It's a small store but the lovely lass looking after the IT side of things helps us out with a cable for the EOS M5, so we have that at least. Weight off. Hubby is recommending we don't reformat and reuse the SD cards that are apparently corrupted, because we might be able to retrieve material from them when we get home. So that means the new 300 mb card we bought in Dublin is out of action and we need another. For that we head to Argos in Armagh and are assisted by another lovely chap. Always when travelling in the UK we find that LOTS of people have children or family in Australia, and or they have been to Australia or are planning to go in the near future. In Ireland that seems to be pretty much everyone and our two locals this morning are no exception!
Now we have got at least the M5 in operation, I set about finding a way to put the lost photos out of my mind. The main strategy there is to give up trying to journal. Move on. Relax. Live in the moment. It's what you should be doing all the time but it's extra important when on holiday!

So, what now? Well, I loved the Navan Centre so much yesterday and I'm beyond upset to have lost ALL the photos of the iron age dwelling experience so I process my grief by just doing that part again! And I'm glad we did. Really glad we did, but that's dealt with in yesterday's report so that all discussion of the Navan Centre is together.

We complete some further purchases in the Navan Centre gift shop and head back to Castle Leslie Lodge, about 20 mins away on the edge of Co Monaghan.  Determined to see at least some of the Estate, get some replacement photos along with some exercise to counter all the eating we're doing, we set off for a late afternoon walk. Hubby has obtained a map of the Estate Walks so first we go back down the drive to the castle, starting to relax as we enjoy the beauty around us.

An idyllic spot on a mild autumn afternoon

You'd go a long way to find a more beautiful driveway

Castle Leslie

The Castle gardens are closed, so we figure we will take a walk that takes us to the alternate lake viewing area on the map. I'm loitering behind a little composing my photographs. Hubby suggests we take the route signposted as the integrated constructed wetland walk. Sounds good. Looks inviting. Off we go. We find ourselves wandering through well maintained dry paths through a wilderness bordered by water and extensive reed beds. Birds call in the woodland. Sun shines overhead. An information board explains that this series of ponds is a sewerage treatment system for Glaslough village. You'd really never know. Wildlife generally loves such nutrient rich natural waste treatment systems. I'm a lazy birdwatcher, so a sewerage treatment system only has positive connotations for me, birds LOVE sewerage treatment ponds at home in Australia where water is so scarce in most areas. A natural wetland approach is just about perfection. Nice work Glaslough and Castle Leslie Estate. 

 

We cross a little bridge and find ourselves somewhat bewildered.  I amuse myself photographing umbellifers in various stages of flowering and seeding as Hubby studies the map with somewhat limited success. Eventually we decide to back track. Then we head up another wide path, but it starts to look a bit wet and boggy so we head back. Discretion is the better part of valour afterall. Back at the drive near the Castle we study the map again and decide to stick to the original plan and walk out towards the little Gothic Lodge and Old Stable Mews. The path is high and dry and gives us some views over Glasough. 

Glaslough - The Green Lake

Gothic Lodge, Castle Leslie Estate

A silent and sullen lady walks briskly past us back towards the castle,  seemingly oblivious to our greeting. We carry on. Soon enough we reach the derelict lodge and ornate gate to the road which could also use a bit of a spruce up. The ground is a bit boggy looking but with the dry weather, it's not too bad.  Now, I'm not one for backtracking if there's an alternative, so against Hubby's preference I encourage a new direction into the wood.  

We chat as we go, and we get along pretty well. For a while. Then we come to some patches of muddy puddles. Nothing too drastic we venture further and further into the mire until I start experiencing two persistent thoughts. 1. I'm channelling my mother at the Valley of the Winds. Surely it's easier to press forward than to walk all that way back 2. We're going to have to declare our footwear to the bio-security checks when we head back through customs in Australia. 

Before long, I'm wondering what the bloody hell I was thinking. Penny drops and I figure this must be the other end of the path we turned back on earlier. I hoik up my pants out of the mud, we step around, muddy bog on one side, stinging nettles on the other. Water seeping and mud sucking at our shoes. We laugh, and I stop to photograph Hubby trying to navigate a particular nasty section. Well this will be a memorable walk at any rate. I start to imagine riders cantering along this track spraying mud as they pass, wondering what sort of idiot comes this way through the mud, and develop an underlying preoccupation with declarations for bio-security when we go home. 

Hubby's doing a lovely job of controlling a surely tempting opportunity for an I told you so. Or maybe he's just thinking of the Battle of the Packing and his insistence that he might need a change of shoes, feeling smug. The anticipated improvement in the track never seems to materialise. Eventually we reach a place where we can get along by the fence and back onto solid ground. We reach reception and Hubby enquires from the doorway how best to get to the boot room, we're anxious not to muddy up their floors. No problem just come through here directly and over the patch of carpet in the hall, they're not bothered. Thank goodness for the boot room! We clean up our shoes and put them on a shelf to dry and pad back to our room in our socks. Well, that was an adventure. Not quite what I had been imagining an exploration of the estate would involve. Oh well, it was much needed exercise at least.

There's now time for some relaxation before dinner in Snaffles, the more upmarket of the dining venues here at the Lodge. 

Time for our reservation, Hubby leads the way to the venue and we are seated next to each other on one side of a fairly large round table facing away from the body of the restaurant. We are having a 6 course tasting menu, so that involves a combination of dishes we choose and others that are a delightful surprise. First up, as expected among a well established dining format, some complimentary soda bread as we order our drinks. Then we are presented with cute little three cornered dishes containing what my notes describe as Cheese Custard with Pickled Apple. It was as delicious as it looks and if memory serves it involved the teeniest little muscles, rounding out the flavour combination. What a good start. 

Round 1 commences with the delivery of our starters. We've fallen into our predictable pattern of choices, Hubby opting for the Foie gras terrine,  pain d'epices, plums and smoked eel while I snatch the opportunity for Seared Scallops, brown butter sand, lemon gel, dilisk and curried fennel. No opportunity for controversy or disappointment there. 

Our next gift from the kitchen is tiny handled glass mugs with a taste of Celeriac Soup. Mmm. Delicious. Very good.  Good food is always a mood lifter isn't it. This is great. 

For our mains, again, if I describe our choices, I don't think those who know us well would find it difficult to pick who the wait staff should hand the plates to on arrival at table: Truffle corn fed chicken breast, roscoff onions, leeks, truffle puree, truffle potato puree, buttermilk.  Obviously for Hubby but only because the alternative is Potato Gnocchi, onion petals, confit shitake mushroom, dried tomatoes. A dish of gnocchi arriving at our table will pretty much always be for me rather than Hubby, though I did throw a curve ball in there choosing something with a species of mushroom involved, the combination of confit style and shitake species giving the dish a free pass through my mild mushroom phobia.  Along the way tonight we've basically abandoned our usual competition. We must be tired! 

These delicious plates tucked away in satisfied bellies we are keen to see what our options are for dessert. Hubby is again predictable choosing the Chocolate and passionfruit tart, chocolate mousse, opaline, passionfruit sorbet while the mention of apricots steers me towards the carrot cake, glazed apricot, apricot sorbet, creme fraiche, dill.  Overall our desserts were a little disappointing, not being at quite the same level as the other courses. That's a shame. An Irish Coffee for Hubby and a round of neat little petit fours see our meal to it's conclusion and we retire to our comfy room. 

Day 5 - Picking up the Car from Dublin Airport, the Navan Centre and Castle Leslie

Thursday, 19 September 2019
To say we are shattered after two really long, busy days, that followed two sleep deprived days in Dublin would be understating it. We are hours later than planned leaving Premier Inn to collect our Budget Rental Car at Dublin Airport.  We've been quite impressed with Premier Inn, they've given good service, good food and a comfortable bed. All we needed or could expect and it's for a reasonable price. We take the free shuttle across to the airport then Hubby estimates the walk from the drop off point to the car hire counters inside Terminal 1 as about 400 metres or more. Once you have booked in for your car and signed your contract they give you a slip of paper and then you walk back out to another shuttle bus that takes you to the area where they have the cars and you front up to another counter to get your key. Key in hand, off we go looking for a black Mercedes - they've given us as a free upgrade. We were told it's in D199. It's actually in E190. Eventually we find it by unlocking and locking using the remote. They appear to have adopted a system where their own staff don't really bother to check or record the damage on a vehicle. Ours we were told had no marks on it. Whereas in reality it had a huge scrape on the bumper that also impacted the nearby panel and several door edges had significant chips. Any way, we're eventually on our way. A little irritated but mobile. Collecting the car has taken us over an hour and a half! I think that's a record for us.
Now, there's only one thing we MUST do today and that's get ourselves to Castle Leslie in time for afternoon tea which is booked for 4 pm. We had booked a tour of the Tayto factory, but they cancelled tours that day due to staff training they had to do. We retrace some steps heading to the north along the motorway, back across the Mary Macaleese Boyne Valley Bridge, which is a cable-stayed bridge fairly similar to the Anzac Bridge in Sydney, and naturally, makes quite a statement and landmark for getting your bearings, sitting as it does in the rolling countryside.

Maru Macaleese Boyne Valley Bridge
named in the honour of the President of Ireland for her contribution to the peace process

Our next sight seeing priority is the Navan Centre. If we don't have enough time today we can do it tomorrow, but we go in to at least sus it out. Now, I'm going to cut to the chase here and explain that due to fairly catastrophic issues with photograph downloads - the stupid card reader we bought from Bermingham's camera store in Dublin chewed up the memory card from our little Lumix and we lost all the photos we took in the best bit of the Navan Centre along with those from Kilmainham Gaol and EPIC. So in the end, we visited the Navan Centre twice on successive days and as such I will consolidate my report here to cover both visits.
So, on arrival at the Navan Centre on our first visit, we arrived just before 13:30. We're impressed from the word go. The parking area is grass blocks that sit in concrete surrounds to strengthen the support for the vehicles without compacting the earth between.  Of course this is also not such a hot surface and it's subtle looking green overall. Love it!

The path down to the centre is beautifully shady and pretty, so I don't feel like hurrying through. The doors open to welcome us and we're soon being taken in hand by Rosaleen. I was wondering if we should just skip it today and come back tomorrow as time is limited now, but Rosaleen explained that the next tour of the dwelling is at 14:30. However if we like we could walk up to the fort unguided, then take the guided tour of the dwelling and be off in time for getting to afternoon tea. It's a deal. We transact in the gift shop, the ladies offer to mind our purchases there while we walk (don't need to offer us that twice!)  and then we set off for the mound. Short of time we resort to holding hunger at bay with a bag of delicious Prawn Cocktail Tayto crisps from the cafeteria on site, though I can't say they reminded me much of a prawn cocktail.

Bug Hotels are all the rage here

I'm almost tempted not to bother when we walk out onto the trail and find interesting bug hotels here and there and then a little overlook on a wetland where the air is alive with various flying insects. I'm transfixed by a dragonfly who lands on the railing and appears to be doing some yoga. Dragonfly Downward Facing Dog is my new avatar for TripAdvisor, though I also have the option of changing to the Speckled Wood butterfly that was sitting on a leaf among the reeds. There's birds singing in the trees around me. I could happily stay right here for the next hour but I tear myself away conscious that our time is limited.

Most likely a Common Darter I think

Speckled Wood butterfly

Navan Fort is similar in it's basics to Tara. We read the signs and climb to the top of the hill and yep, more great views all around. Time is moving pretty quickly and we need to be back so we don't hang about more than a few minutes, loitering is not necessary in any case because there are circular paths around the site that lead us out.  

Climbing Navan Fort

You don't really need to do more than one of these ancient mounds but that's not the best thing about the Navan Centre. 

We are challenged on our arrival. Who are we? Are we friend or foe?

Time is come for our visit to the iron age dwelling. We assemble with a trio of elderly folk, a man and a couple of ladies, one with the aid of what our Iron age hosts describe as a chariot. Rosaleen leads us out stopping to explain the willow sculptures by the entrance which are of various forms of the goddess Macha. I kick myself when Rosaleen tells us about the statue of Cuchulainn in the Dublin GPO which has the figure of a raven / crow on his shoulder representing Macha. Aaagh! If only I had gone over and gone inside! I would have liked to have seen that. Oh well, a note to self if we're back in Dublin some day...
We are met at outside the dwelling and invited inside where we sit on benches arrayed around the exterior walls. There's animal skins on the floor all shaggy in whites and browns. The woven ceiling swirls up to a point in beautiful woven hazel whips.

As we sit, our hosts engage with us, in an exchange of information as we are asked questions about ourselves and ask questions in exchange. What you discuss is influenced by what you ask and the conversation as it naturally occurs so it's important not to just sit passively, you need to actively engage in the process. For this reason, when we visited again the next day, we learned different things as a result of the fact that we are with different people, this time a middle aged lady and her unmarried adult daughter and this sparks another direction of enquiry and discussion including quite a lot on the issue of the young woman not yet being married. On different days you also have different characters present in the dwelling, some of whom specialise in different aspects of iron age life and Celtic spirituality. On our visits we have a young man who is a baker by trade so he explains the grinding of grain and baking of bread and how this specialisation helps him to acquire all he needs in life. 

At work grinding grain in a very upmarket
piece of technology only wealthy folk would have had

After a period inside, we are taken for a tour of the gardens to learn about what is growing and how it is used, some technology used for cooking at home and when travelling. Questions during this process will also influence the information provided so again, it's really important to be an active participant in the information exchange. Finally, we pose for some photographs with a spear and shield and we're bid farewell. The whole thing is brilliant. 

Baking oven

Following our second visit we also took a look at the exhibition, which is fairly small but informative. Some material is similar to that we were given at Tara so we don't need too long in here and we're on our way. 

It's a quick drive across to Castle Leslie, which is entered from the pretty little village of Glaslough. On our first approach we were a little puzzled because the satnav took us direcdtly to the equestrian centre, but eventually Dr Google helps us out and we find the right entrance.  Oohing and Aahing at the beautiful scenes we pass on our way to the carpark. Having sought directions from the staff at reception, we have no time to check in.  I change my shoes and we dash up the stunningly pretty drive to the Castle itself for afternoon tea.
At the Castle itself, a young woman is carrying a white dress sheathed in clear plastic into the building, it's pretty obvious preparation for a wedding tomorrow is underway. We are greeted in the entrance, with its beautiful mosaic flooring and shown through a large room into a smaller room with views across the lake. We are shown to a small table at the window and are immediately asked if we'd like the shutters open or closed. We opt for open but soon find that the heat radiating from the glass is a bit too much so we half close the shutters to get the best of both worlds. Our waitress sounds like she is either French or Belgian and of course we start with ordering drinks. This all goes according to the usual except I strike out and be bold which an order of hot chocolate. In due course our little stand of afternoon tea items arrives at the table: On the top we have four types of sweet morsel, the middle tier is savoury items and the lowest shelf has a couple of small scones with tiny little jars of butter, lemon curd and preserves.  Hubby heads straight for the top tier, I start with the savoury items as we can't help but overhear the conversation of the large group seated near us which is a mix of local people and an Australian couple who seems like their from Tasmania. The conversation is polite, like the people don't really know each other, so I'm thinking this may be the parents of the groom, come over for the wedding and getting to know the bride's family. After a while, they finish up and head outside to explore the gardens and we finish our  afternoon tea in quiet solitude, now able to look more overtly around the room taking in the wall paper which appears to be hand painted as none of the pattern repeats anywhere in the room. It's birds on boughs that drape around the fireplace and other obstacles on the walls. Ready to go, we take our time, photographing the nearby conservatory with it's little ornately railed landing and large spreading passion flower vine. Then we head back to check into the lodge and settle down for a rest before dinner.

The reception staff are all very friendly and competent, Castle Leslie Lodge is lovely, with a classy but informal ambience in the public areas. We are shown to our room which is in a new wing of the lodge, through the fire doors, there's the boot room should we need it,. Through another fire door and arrayed around a sitting area and gallery walls with art works for sale are the new guest rooms. All the rooms are named after horses and ours is called Dillon. It is very beautifully and thoughtfully designed to look very simple and traditional with opulent blood red fabrics, but with every imaginable modern convenience hidden among the joinery. Full length and make up mirrors concealed in an angled cupboard, Large flat screen TV hidden behind sliding bookshelves, USB and powerpoints beside the bed on both sides, there's utterly nothing further we could need. The bed is beautifully comfortable, the most important item in any room, well, perhaps a very close second to sources of power to make sure we can recharge and use appliances as we need to do.

After an hour or two, which I would like to say was relaxing but was in fact stressful and distressing as I continue to struggle with the downloading of photographs from the Lumix. That stinking card reader they sold us in Dublin is corrupting every card I put in it. Or maybe it's the SD cards. Most of them are getting pretty old now. Maybe we should just buy a new one and see if that's the problem. Meanwhile I do a bit of journaling with the photos we do have and bit of googling to see where IT or Camera stores might be found to get this problem fixed once and for all. Seems bizarre a card reader would actually damage the cards it's designed to be used with.
Eventually, we head out to have some dinner in Conor's Bar. It's pretty busy and the only table available is a high table with bar stools. Luckily though, before our meals can arrive a nearby table for two in a cosy corner is vacated and we decamp over there. Ah, much more comfortable.
I have been looking forward to their  local sausages with champ, Hubby opts for a serve of chowder followed by the chicken breast.

Seafood Chowder is a safe menu option in most places, star of the show is the delicious home made wheaten bread that compliments the flavour of the chowder so beautifully

Tone down the pepper a bit and the sausages would have been more to my taste. 

The chicken breast was a little overcooked and the potato item a little disappointing, like a floury potato has been mashed and reformed into a little cake and pan fried, only without any change to the texture of the potato. Overall our main dishes were a little disappointing. 

Given our late afternoon tea, we skip dessert and head back to our room for an early night, pleased that tomorrow has been scheduled as a rest day. I was wondering if I'd put the rest day too early in the trip, but as so much has gone wrong with both photographs and sleep, it's just as well we have some time up our sleeves. 

Day 4 - Historical County Meath Tour with My Ireland Family Heritage

Wednesday, 18 September 2019
We're up for another early start today, kicking off with some admiration of the sun rising over Trim Castle.

Ian is picking us up at 07:45 so we can get across to Bru na Boinne for the first tour of the day. Laughter and chat among the three of us on various subjects, including of course contextual information relating to the history of the area, sees the time pass in a jiffy but I have no clue of the direction we're heading or where we are at any given point. We note as we are passing through Navan that the building now occupied by the North Eastern Area Ambulance Service Headquarters used to be the local Workhouse and soon after we pull up for a quick photo from the car of the Donaghmore Round Tower.

Navan Workhouse, Co. Meath

Donaghmore Round Tower

Soon enough we pull into the car park at Bru na Boinne, there's plenty of spaces available just before 09:00 but it's filling quickly. The visitor centre is under renovation at the moment but meanwhile there's quite good portable facilities at the car park and a lady handing out bus boarding passes asking whether we want to go to Newgrange or both Newgrange and Knowth. Ian (our guide) has us organised and we're just visiting Newgrange. It's a walk down a beautiful shaded walkway to some stairs and the Visitor Centre which looks like work is nearing completion for an impressive grass roofed centre. We walk on across a bridge over the beautiful inky River Boyne and eventually come to where the buses are pulled up in a turning circle, a driver directing people to this bus or that.

 We've had tantalising glimpses of Newgrange as we've walked the path to the bus, but this does nothing to damp the excitement of seeing it sitting proudly at the top of the hill as we alight from the bus and walk up to the little hut and holding pen where we wait for our guided tour to start. As we wait I amuse myself by photographing some small birds who are sitting up in the top branches of a nearby tree, warming themselves in the morning sun. A young robin sits lower in the branches and sings for me, totally uninhibited by the long lens.

Newgrange

In due course our guide, joins us. He's an older man with a slight and rather classy eastern European accent. He is aided by a walking stick. Up close the monument is so beautifully finished, one of the questions that is often asked is when they added the quartz and stone finish to it. But no, this is original, over 5,000 years old. It looks like it was laid yesterday and it's a very stylish look.

It takes magnificent workmanship to last over 5,000 years!

We congregate out in front of the entrance for some initial warnings and information. No photos or videos inside, it's a confined space so if you're claustrophobic, consider if you want to continue. One lady immediately opts out, but our guide stops her - Before you decide not to go let me give you some more information" A detailed description of the space aspects of the experience given, she decides to give it a go, for which she is later very grateful. Probably the most emphasised point is that although lots of people have theories and have written books about their theories, NOONE knows what the purpose of this site actually was. Newgrange opens to the east, other nearby sites catch the western or other equinoxes. The technology between the light entrance and the people entrance is extraordinary.  Bags off our shoulders, backs or in any way around our body are removed and carrying them at knee height in front of us as instructed we head into the chamber. 

Entrance to Newgrange

The passage is narrow and a little convoluted as it leads us around a large boulder. Once in the central space which is tall and large enough for the 24 of us to be carefully positioned so each of us can see the light beam that will appear on the floor. There's three alcoves, it's believed these were put in place first and the monument built around them. The first to our immediate right contains a large stone that is slightly hollowed and holds another very large bowl shaped stone. The other two alcoves have stones on the floor but nothing larger. It's believed the ashes of the dead were placed in these alcoves.  Antique graffiti competes with the ancient decorative carvings in geometric patterns that the ancients applied. We are given ample warning before the lights are turned off, including advice about where to look if you are freaking out in the dark. After the light show it's time for questions and every question is answered comprehensively and with a tone of authority. This man is a superb guide. The technology of the construction is really impressive. They don't know how the huge perimeter boulders, which weigh between 1-10 tonnes were moved. the rocks that form the chamber are alternated large slabs over thinner slabs designed to fracture and ease the impact of the larger rocks being placed on top. The rocks slope to do as much as possible to waterproof the chamber. You don't get drips inside the chamber but you do get white calcification on the face of the rocks which is caused by slow water seepage over time.  It's a fascinating and awe inspiring place. Older than the pyramids in Egypt. A truly ancient place. 

Having emerged back into the light, we walk around the monument, which is decorated here and there by some pretty volunteer plants creeping delicately around the stones. Eventually, having loitered taking in the atmosphere, I hurry to catch up to the group so as not to delay, or indeed miss the bus back to base.  It's a shame to have to hurry from the bus up to meet Ian, the birds are singing in the trees along the path and if I had the day to our own devices, I'd be whipping out the binoculars and taking my time and doing the tour of Knowth as well. However, we do have a busy day planned so we walk purposefully on.
Our next stop is by the side of the road, where we pull up right next to a smallish dolmen, the precise location now escapes me but apparently these extraordinary arrangements of boulders are scattered around the landscape here and there, 190 in total around Ireland.  In this case, rather than being in a grassy paddock it's the centre piece of a pretty garden bed in a public park.
On we go and soon we're pulling into a pretty little lane and carpark with an adorable cottage beside a nicely kept graveyard. A nice man is resident in a little entrance gate hut and he greets us warmly before backing off when Ian come across from the car.

Muiredach's Cross at Monasterboice

This is Monasterboice. Ian takes us in and makes sure we notice the main claims to fame at this site - firstly let us examine this 5.5 metre high cross ornately carved with depictions of bible stories. The detail is somewhat blunted, but to be in even this condition after over 1000 years suggests that the original must have been truly superb. The round tower screams for attention and in due course we follow others who are climbing the stairs and having their photos taken. It's not really my scene to do such things but I climb up the stairs and smile for the camera when pressed. Another High Cross stands beside the tower in a challenging position for photography. What a shame the religious folk didn't consider this angle when putting the monument in position 😏.

With humans to give some scale - Monasterboice round tower and west cross

The most interesting thing for me with these towers was the clever construction methodology. They built them from the inside out, start with the base, construct a stair and internal structures and build the thick stone walls around it. It's beautiful craftsmanship. Doors are elevated in the side of the tower to make the tower less vulnerable to sappers. Small window ledges have formed a shelf for birds to build their nest.

What's this do you reckon?

In the ruins of a chapel, Ian points out an inconspicuous roundish rock with a bowl-like receptacle and some sharp straight parallel grooves across it. This doubled as sharpening stone for swords and a pestle for the religious to grind their herbs or grains. in the chinks between the rocks of the walls a pretty fern has latched on, eking a living from the moisture trapped in the crevices and nutrients it extracts from the soil trapped in pockets and even the rock itself.

Lastly we visit the sun dial, which has been modified to provide a core to hold the fracturing rock together and is protected behind a sturdy metal fence. Photos in the bag we head back to the car and one of the sites I have been really looking forward to.

Battle of the Boyne Visitor Centre

Battle of the Boyne Visitor Centre is schmick. It's on a grander scale than I was expecting. The car park is alongside some attractive stone buildings housing toilet facilities then we walk up a landscaped pathway to the open courtyard in front of in impressive heritage building that has been converted for the purpose. Old canons guard the entrance way. 

Inside, Ian explains the story to us, but really I'd rather be left in peace to read the panels. It's hard to think with someone chattering away. There are displays on the walls, some guns in display cases, mock ups of campaign tents with generously bewigged officers depicted consulting with one another about the battle. However far and away the best part of the displays was a 3D model of the landscape of the battle sight on which a light show explains the positioning of the troops on either side and the movements each formation made during the battle, it was simply brilliant and got across how the battle unfolded far more effectively than words or pictures alone could do.

We move out to the rear of the museum and find another large courtyard with a display of other canons and battle hardware. It's all beautifully presented and maintained. Our visit to the Battle of the Boyne has only taken us about 35-40 minutes. It may have taken me considerably longer had we been there on our own and more inclined to quietly contemplate and read the display boards more thoroughly or wander around on the battle field and defensive emplacements used for re-enactments, or indeed realise that there's a garden marked on the map - we missed that entirely. Oh dear.
Next we're off to Slane Abbey, which perhaps predictably, is positioned at the high point of another local hill.

We passed through the sheep gate and climb to the abbey ruins and prowl about for a while looking for photo opportunities as we hear of history dating as far back as St Patrick who lit a fire here. The buildings that are now ruins date from 1512. Hubby climbs the dark narrow tower on uneven stairs to an expansive view over the ruined Abbey and off into the distance.

View from the tower at Slane Abbey

Slane Abbey

Ian asks me to guess how they made the stone vaults.  I think about it and if built today I'd say they would have used a frame to hold the bricks in place until the lockstone is laid then remove it, but I'm puzzled by the timeframe. Given my hesitation in replying Ian goes on to the explanation. Like today they did indeed use formwork but they used woven hazel wands supported by posts. This was flexible and re-usable. It's marvellous what is done with coppiced hazel and willow. Puzzling why those skills seem to have been lost in the derivative culture in Australia. We should revive it. I'm really not into ruins but Ian's guiding has really enhanced our experience of Slane Abbey.

We stroll down the hill, heading in the direction of lunch via Slane Castle, an iconic outdoor rock concert venue. Apparently anyone who's anyone has played Slane Castle, crowds 80,000 strong arrayed around a natural amphitheatre. Expats have been known to come home especially to attend a gig there of a favourite band.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Before we reach Slane we again pass through Janeville and the Mural celebrating 100 years since the death of Francis Ledwidge in the third battle of Ypre in 1917. Time over I'd visit the museum about him. We are rather fond of visiting museums about local poets. Indeed, reviewing this entry at the end of our trip now we're home, not stopping at this museum is one of my biggest regrets for this trip. Looking at the museum website, Ledwidge's poem titled June seems a very fitting description of the weather over the last several days. Yes, I deeply regret not stopping in Janeville. I could blame letting someone else choose the itinerary but to be fair, I didn't have Ledwidge's museum on my own draft for the ancient east either. Silly.

June      

Broom out the floor now, lay the fender by,

And plant this bee-sucked bough of woodbine there,

And let the window down. The butterfly

Floats in opun the sunbeam, and the fair

Tanned face of June, the nomad gipsy, laughts

Above her widespread wares,the while she tells

The farmer's fortunes in the fields, and quaffs

The water from the spider-peopled wells.

The hedges are all drowned in green grass seas,

And bobbing poppies flare like Elmo's light

While siren-like the pollen-stained bees

Drone in the clover depths. And up the height

The cuckoo's voice is hoarse and broke with joy.

And on the lowland crops the crows make raid,

Nor fear the clappers of the farmer's boy,

Who sleeps, like drunken Noah, in the shade.

And loop this red rose in that hazel ring

That snares your little ear, for June is short 

And we must joy in it and dance and sing,

And from her bounty draw her rosy worth.

Ay! soon the swallows will be flying south,

The wind wheel north to gather in the snow

Even the roses spilt on youth's red mouth

Will soon blow down the road all roses go. 

I'm pretty happy with that given it was taken from the car in a hurry as we
were stopped by the roadworks and traffic

Our lunch venue is the Headfort Arms in Kells, this is another very atmospheric, upmarket venue where Ian knows the food is reliable. We are served by an older lady who will be heading down under to the Melbourne Cup, flying first class no less. That's definitely the way to do it. I decide to go for the brie and cherry tomato quiche while Hubby and Ian tuck into roast Turkey with baked vegetables. The food is nice and consumption slowed by chat.
Back in the sunlight, we're not done with Kells yet. We park in a street of quaint and well maintained cottages among which is another ancient building, this time a 10th century oratory that is in surprisingly good condition. To be honest I'm just as interested in the fruiting currant whose berries are shining like jewels int he sunlight above the fence

...and the Handball club across the road. You have handball clubs here? Yep, and a competitive competition league. What! If we have that in Australia I've not heard of it. A little googling and I find there is indeed competitive handball outside the schoolyard in Australia too. Who knew?
Not far away the Spire of Loyd and the adjacent famine pauper's graveyard is our next stop. The destitute would head to the workhouse if for no other reason that their expectation of being buried in a coffin. The coffin was just a loan to transport the body to the burial ground then the corpse was tipped into the grave, quicklime sprinkled over and the coffin returned for the next poor soul. The destitution of the poor contrasts with the extravagance of the lighthouse folly. But we need to make tracks. We're aiming to be back at Trim for the last tour of the day there.

Looking down on one of the models of Trim Castle

We jump out of the car at the entrance to the Castle while Ian finds a parking spot. We wander about briefly among a group of noisy schoolkids and wait for the tour to start. Trim Castle is largely ruined, but there's enough left to support some modern walkways at various levels to bring you to the top of the castle and resulting views.  I've toured a few castles now but I still learned some things at Trim, particularly as our guide, Gerry, takes us through the three models of the castle at various points in history. Apparently they had wooden structures cantilevered on the exterior sides of the castle which if under attack and they caught fire, could simply be dropped onto the assailants below as a flaming barrier.  Ingenious. Gerry starts off fairly restrained but as he gets into it, he is very engaging and entertaining. Amazingly the castle was covered in Ivy and weeds for hundreds of years, a veritable sleeping beauty's hideaway, until the owner allowed it to be cleaned up and opened to visitors in the 1960s.

A handy breeze sprang up to lift the flag at just the right moment

...there's a new job we learned about too, apparently in order to make the garderobes work properly some poor creature had to jump down into the cesspit and stir the human waste and filth to make the fumes rise to fumigate the clothes hanging above. There's no commentary about the likely lifespan of these poor sods, it can't have been long, surely. I wonder how they prevented cholera if people were wading about in shit on a regular basis. Perhaps cholera wasn't in these parts in those days. A brief check of the History of Cholera and I find that no, it wasn't. The first major outbreaks of Cholera were in India hundreds of years later.  

It's getting on now but we've still one more stop to go before we head back to Dublin. I've been very much looking forward to this one too. Tara. It seems rather fitting that some alternative lifestylers seem to have set themselves up for a comfortable stop in the car park. We have a quick look at the information boards near the entrance path, before we walk up into the sun, lowering now as it heads for the horizon. We look at the formation known as the Banquet Hall but thought more likely an ancient road or pathway,  Ian talks to us about the site as we walk. It's not until we are standing in the highest mounds surrounded by the earthworks that the site can be fully appreciated. It is here that I am most affected by the ancient and perhaps mystic significance of this place. We head across for a photo opportunity at the Mound of Hostages then start heading back to the car through the dim shaded grounds of an old church. I linger behind as we emerge out into the sun. Some quiet time here in the golden light of the dying day is called for. You can't hear any place speak to you if you're not quiet and listening. A piper is now standing on a high section of ground playing The Dark Island. She's a silhouette in the golden sunset, her haunting music making an emotional connection to this moment in this place. I am grateful. The Hill of Tara is not so much a sight as an experience. I walk towards her, keen to capture the moment and immerse myself in the music. 

Piper on the Hill of Tara

It feels like a pretty quick dash back to Premier Inn at Dublin Airport where we are having a quiet night. Just as well. We are shattered. I'm literally falling asleep waiting for our meals. We've covered a lot of ground but it's been a long and exhausting day.