To Kildare Town

Our last pilgrimage day was eventful, and pleasantly so.  We began with a short walk through the Pollardstown Fen Nature Reserve.  I frequently visit a wetland reserve near our home in Maryland, the Battle Creek Cypress Sanctuary, so it was fun to compare the climate, plants, and wildlife at these two, actually very similar preserves.

And onward into the Curragh!

This is the world-renowned Curragh Racecourse.

The springy turf evidently brings out the best in racehorses.

We were joined at the Curragh by the Brigidine Sisters who had tales to tell.  

After that, it was on to Kildare Town.  

 

We were greeted in central Kildare Town with fanfare, lovely harp music, and refreshments.  The excellent harper was shy and preferred not to be photographed from the front.

And after that, there was more on the program.  I was thrilled to visit the site Brigid's Fire Temple, an ancient, well-loved site.  There are many visitors each day, and ritual is still held here.

I waited for the crowd to go on to something else, then took my camera down into the site.

And on to another Brigid's Well.

The erudite and gracious Sister Phil tending the well environs.

 

I said my goodbyes to the group at this well since I was offered a ride into town where I could catch a bus to Dublin.  I was ready to leave the group at that point, but I knew I'd formed some lasting connections to people, the land, and Brigid Herself.

Perhaps the greatest lesson of the Pilgrimage was the discovery that even though things were not happening as they should, I could still enjoy what was around me and have an absolutely spectacular time.  I do not at all regret this journey, although I will not be traveling again with the same group.  But if I'd gone a different way, I wouldn't have met Deborah -- and Lee-Anne -- and John -- and Anthea -- and Sister Phil -- and -- and...

May Brigid's blessing of peace be with you.  

Our Grand Canal Sojourn

For two days, we spent a great deal of time walking the towpaths along the inland waterways of County Kildare.  In many respects, this was the most pleasant part of the trip, certainly the most relaxing walking-wise. 

Meadowsweet!

 

 

Coming into Robertstown where we stayed for two nights -- or some of the group did.  Surprise!  The leaders had underbooked, and four of us were to stay at B&Bs that were a 20-Euro taxi ride away -- and guess who had to pay the taxis.  This was particularly offensive since all of the group events were held in Robertstown.  We took turns paying the driver.  Oh, excuse me; not quite.  B. was one of the four, and she wasn't paying for anything.  She was originally placed in the same B&B that I was and had a major freakout because (a) you couldn't fool her; they made pornography at that B&B; and (b) she didn't want to be under the same roof with me since I had used a cell phone "RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!  I DON'T HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THAT!  She's horrible!  She makes you like her, but she has this satanic energy..."  At which point, I felt that the best thing to do was disappear since my presence seemed to upset her, and I wasn't into being attacked.  I later felt guilty about leaving this situation to other pilgrims, but I was assured repeatedly that I'd done the right thing.  Somehow, it was handled, and presumably being at the other location did not expose her to anything unholy. 

 

 

Lovely wall decor on a commercial building in Robertstown.

This village entryway reminded me strongly of the Brigid's Well that Patrick took care of.

Our second day of canal walking, we were delighted to witness a major event on the opposite shore.  A farmer, a vet, and an assistant delivered a baby bull by Cesarean section.  We stood on the walkway and asked Brigid to be present in this difficult situation.  The elderly farmer stayed close to the heavily-tranquilized mother, reassuring her. 

We were all a little surprised to see Baby Bull off by himself, but he was breathing and clearly making his first attempts to stand upright.

All in a day's walk.

Further...

Another Brigid's Well.  This one was tended by a lovely gentleman named Patrick, not shown in this picture.  He heard that we were on our way from a radio program and rushed out to sweep around the well so that we could gather there.

 

 From the well, it was a long day to our next destination, Donadea Forest Park.  Our leaders had said 12.5 miles for the day, but a pedometer reading showed that it was really more like 15-plus miles.  That was a good long while to steep myself in the countryside.  The growth was so rich and fascinating that I think I barely lifted my eyes from the roadside for the entire walk. 

 

 

 We spent the evening and some of the following morning at Donadea Forest Park.   The former estate of the Aylmer family, it eventually was sold to the state for recreational use. 

 

 Donadea Forest Park 9/11 Memorial.  We paused here to remember the fallen.  Sean Tallon was a New York firefighter whose family originated in Donadea.  He died heroically on that horrible day.

This is the ice house where the castle food supplies were stored.  The housekeeper or head of staff would have sent the footmen or kitchen staff from the castle on a daily trip to fetch perishable foodstuffs from this ice-filled cavern.