Today, our travels have taken us to Cashel. A quaint town en route to the larger city of Cork, it is the location of the rather famous ‘Rock of Cashel’. Offering little more than the castle to the typical tourist, this town has maintained its pure, small town feel. In fact, it has an overlooked quality to its houses and people. Reminiscent of Brigadoon, it is a place of faeries and magick. As we round the bend of a rather foggy, unimportant looking road behind the castle, a great expanse of frost covered fields opens before us, and we trek down to them – as further exploration is naturally necessary. Placed quite grandly indeed amidst these pastures is the ruins of a once working monastery.
Known as Hore (or Hoare) Abbey, while the earliest known records date from about the 1270s AD, an awe-inspiring ruin is all that remains. As we march single file along the worn and narrow cobbled path, the sun glares off the green and white fields around the abbey, and it practically hurts the eyes to look. But you cannot help it. Something about this place captures the imagination, and transports one into a world all your own. An enchanting mix of the bright green of the grass, under a fresh dusting of snow, wraps around the warm grey stones, welcoming one in to stop and rest awhile.
As we wander amongst the tiny doorways, and walls that only stand a few feet high, I can literally see the air
A view from the entrance 'gate'
sparkling about me. One can just imagine the fantastic bonfires and parties thrown by the infamous faeries when no one is looking. But even so, there is a calm and quietly reassuring atmosphere in and around the buildings. When walking through the graveyards it is not a place of creepy ghosts, but rather a place of peace and rest. And even within these inviting walls, there is a sense of the monks still at work; walking, singing, and working around the many visitors that come to this place.
There is even a tune, subtle, floating on the air, calling you back. It is going any place you desire – a childhood place, a place of the future – it is indeed wherever the wind may take you. With this song, and the ‘pixie dust’ all around you, you can finally find your very own faerie world. A beautiful piece of untouched Ireland, as the sun begins to set, we gather our selves together and reluctantly return to the real world. Back into town for a soothing coffee to warm up, and just enough time to catch the bus back into the rather more hectic (merely by comparison) world of Dublin.
By far, my favorite part of Ireland, I hope that this amazing place can remain pure and enchanting – even in the face of the modern world. As it has stood for so long, seemingly undisturbed, I have hope, and wish to remain forever in the captivating faerie world the abbey has shown me.
I share your enchantment of this special place. It was the highlight of our Ireland trip and inspired a poem I wrote….The Gap of Dunloe, which just mesmerized me with its rugged beauty, was also a favorite. Thanks for sharing.