Week 7 Holiday in the West PART II

Donegal is known for being the northern most county, for its rugged scenery, its Atlantic coastline and cliffs, its history, its farming, its fishing, its beauty, St. Colmkille (Sam's patron, as his middle name is Colm), the Gaeltacht (Irish speaking country), and apparently its wind and RAIN.  We were greeted at our arrival to the grand, uncovered Lough Eskie castle steps by driving rain and Matthew from Downton Abbey (he reminded me of him) in his tweed hat and tan woolen jacket.  He grabbed our bags and led us down the gravel, wet, puddly paths to our cozy cottage room.  He told us that Donegal gets a lot of rain, but not usually all....day.....long.  Later he came to light our fire (it was necessary!) and share with us all about his fishing family in Donegal.

Lough Eske Castle

Never actually heard a REAL donkey before!

We took refuge in the cozy, modern, lively pub inside the castle, where we enjoyed a leisurely, HOT dinner before retiring.  In fact, we enjoyed many meals in that pub while we were there.  As I mentioned in my last blog, I was feeling inspired to do some research to find out my Leonard family tree.  I would just love to find some gravestones or even find some long lost relatives.  I set to work that night with information Aunt Mary gave me...and I have been addicted ever since.  To this day I am losing sleep trying to solve all the little mysteries of who, what, and where.

The next couple of rainy and cold days were spent relaxing.  A couple of spa sessions for me, some indoor pool time for the kids and Thomas, exercise, walks, some art, some cards and games.  Finally the clouds parted, and we set off for Siabh Liag (prounounced, "Sleeve League"), one of Europe's highest sea cliffs, if not the highest.  What a sight.  We hiked as far up as ability would allow and suddenly those two or three days of constant rain were in the distant past as we enjoyed, along with the sheep, this spectacular, serene, thought provoking, inspiring view.  I was so impressed by how well the kids did on this hike (as well as at Croag Patrick).  I think we were all so in awe of the beauty that the effort was not noticed so much.

Sorry you can't hear this one (file too large), but you can have a snapshot of it.

SPECTACULAR Sliabh Laig

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We made it a point to try to make a pilgrimage to some of the spots where St. Colm walked.  St. Colm (or Colmkille/Colm Cille/Columbkille/Columba, etc. etc.) was a product of 6th Century Ireland
following St. Patrick, and credited with establishing hundreds of monasteries which helped spread the Christian faith to Scotland and around Europe.  He was also known for his manuscripts, including contributions to the Book of Kells.  Sam considers him, along with St. Sebastian (Jan 20), to be his patron saint.  First, we made the hour long drive to the St. Colm Heritage Center.  Not a car in sight in the parking lot, doors locked, the sign clearly stated it was open, but no people as we walked around.  We felt like the scene in Vacation when Clark and his family arrive and the moose character says, "Sorry folks! Park's closed!"  There was a number to call, so Thomas called it and the lady on the other end said, "Sorry.  it's closed."  "But the sign says you're open now."  "Well we are closed."  (Oooookay.  Forget about the poor little boy who ventured ALL THE WAY across the Atlantic Ocean to come to this spot, and all he wants to do is learn about his patron saint.  Oh no, he doesn't matter.  Take a nap or something.  Enjoy your day.  Poor boy.)  Actually, it didn't look that impressive, so we figured there was something else for us.

We learned that there was a chapel ruin around where St. Colm used to pray and which had a stone inside on which he used to sleep between prayer sessions.  We set off, looking for the shrine surrounded by stands with people selling their St. Colm wares.  We struggled to find it, as directions in the guide book was vague and the nav system didn't have a clue, but we happened to stumble upon a small sign.  We followed the dirt road up a big hill and around the bend, and came to a dead end at a sheep herder's house.  There was a sing pointing up another hill (undriveable) that read "St. Colm's Well" (WAY up), but, as the farmer stared at us, we asked him what and where the well was and he replied in some incoherent English or Irish that included the word "lolipop" over and over.  (Sam kept turning to me asking, "Mama, why is he saying lolipop over and over?"  We hadn't a clue.  Then, we asked if he happened to know where the chapel was, and he pointed to the middle of his land, with more incoherent yelling, except we heard, "Don't let the sheep out."  So we parked and walked through this man's muddy pasture, past his barking sheep dogs, through two gates, being sure not to let the sheep out, and up to a round, stone structure.  There it was!  Right in the midst of this shepherd's pasture was the unmarked 6th Century chapel where St. Colm himself prayed.  In ruins, but half a wall high all the way around, and openings for a full door and window, while in the corner was a big stone slab...the very stone that he used to lie on to rest during his marathon prayer sessions.  It struck me that this man, who influenced all of Christendom, only needed this 16 meter square structure, with little view of the outdoors, little or insufficient heat, wind howling through the cracks, probably little light, to be inspired to spend hours in prayer.  That to me is amazing.  It is rare that I can have the temperature right, my cushions comfortable, my tea hot enough, and the room quiet enough for me to really feel the presence of God.  I strive for those moments, regularly, every day, because when they come they fill me so.  But to be so committed as to lie on a rock to replenish oneself just enough to then spend more time with the Lord is real love for Jesus.  REAL love.  Almost heroic love.  And yet, there was not a sign or a granite plaque, or a t-shirt or plastic statue being sold.  Not even an official road leading to it.

St. Colm's Chapel

The stone where St. Colmkille slept between prayer sessions

You can see the shepherd's house in the background.

Next, we had the privilege of stepping on the site where St. Colm was born.  This one was MUCH more well marked.  It was quite pastoral and reverent and stimulated the imagination.

The pastoral little lane to St. Colm's birthplace

Finally, we visited the site of an ancient monastery that  he established or inspired (We were a bit confused about the exact history of this spot, and the conflicting signs didn't help.)

Our castle hotel has quite a history itself, related to the famed O'Donnell clan.  Actually, for quite some time the castle fell on land that had been passed down to a lord that owned pretty much owned the entire area until not too long ago.  The castle had been taken up by the National Forest Department (or something of that nature), had been neglected and fallen into ruins (with TREES growing INSIDE the building and gargoyles being stolen, etc.) until just a few years

 

back when a developer took it over and refurbished it to its current modern, but traditional state.

A quick visit to Donegal town the next day, and we were headed back to Dublin!



BONUS FEATURES!
Here are a few items I forgot to include in previous posts.
First, a video of Sam singing the role of Jesus in the Easter play.  He is a little hard to hear from this distance, but he is the high solo voice with all the other kids singing the repetitive ostinato.  (Actually, I was only able to download this as a "picture."  When we tried to download as a video it said the file was too large :(  I am hoping to find another way to share this and other future special videos with you.



And second, a couple of pics of me at Cashel House:

Stealing away on a law

n ornament

Captain the Horse remembered me!