One of the nice things about travelling alone, of which there are TONNES, is that you can do everything spontaenously. So, after I had my lunch, I went back to use the bathroom and take five, and then after that, because it was the most AMAZING day, headed back out again. You never get another chance like this again in Ireland. If you don't take your good day you can forget about it. Once my mom asked me why I was having a BBQ on a weekday, why don't you have it on a weekend? she asked. Because I said, the sun is shining today. It may not be shining in four days time.
When you come up close and personal with the Atlantic you understand why this is the case. I don't know why I never had this same experience in Donegal. There is something morose, and i mean PERMANENTLY morose about Donegal. Possibly because it is more northerly. But the feeling that you get in a place like Port Magee, you don't get in Moville or Bunbeg or just name any town or village in Donegal. Of course I am not saying this is a bad thing - it is just different. The relaxed bonhomie of the Kerry folk seep into the landscape. Or the other way round.
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| The view of the islands from the top of a mountain. |
Although to be fair, I have never encountered anything like the Kerry spirit in any other part of Ireland. I really couldn't explain it. Was i different? What? I mean Irish people ARE friendly, but Kerry people are extra special friendly. And they are that way without even trying.
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| Glen Pier |
Because it was off season the few people who were there pretty much had any place to themselves. Take your pick. This was Glen Pier. This place is a sun trap. So I set up here for a bit and then proceeded to fall asleep, as I often do. I slept for about half and hour and was awoken by my own snoring and another car turning on the pier.
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| Clear clean water - and the sound of the sea |
After Glen Pier, I went to the chocolate factory - yes, there is a chocolate factory there. It was alright. I didn't spend much time there. Then I went for a walk on Bolus Head. This walk has rekindled my love for walking and now that the spring is here that is what I am going to do - walk my ass off.
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| Moss covered water courses |
The walk in Bolus Head took about 2 and a bit hours. I saw stonechats, wheatears and LOTS and LOTS of meadow pipits.
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| The view of the Skelligs from a field |
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This is the actual colour of the place
I had to readjust the saturation to capture the real brightness of colours.
The other photos are washed out due to the light adjustment |
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| Stunning moss |
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| The top of the mountain |
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| Taking five |
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| Selfie! |
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I think that the sun must set in between the islands from St Finians bay
the bay below on the equinox. But I can't be sure. Or maybe even on the winter solstice. |
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| This might explain why the monks decided to set up shop there |
I would be really interested to know when the sun rises between the islands. Does it change every year? The bay below is called St Finian's Bay. He was the one who established the community on Skellig Michael. If there was an additional phenomenon with the sun then it might explain why they decided to set up shop there.
For many many years, the Irish believed that there was a land of eternal youth out West. They called it Tir-no-og, literally, the Land of Youth. It was like an Irish Avalon. There the gods resided. You never felt hungry or cold or ever grew old. And sometimes, people would come from this land of youth and visit Ireland. Brendan the Explorer was looking for such a place. The legend goes that he sailed around for seven years, basically lost, until one day paradise was revealed to him.
Seven is a number which is common in many myths. It is the number of spirit. It is an odd number. The number of change. We have seven orifices in our head, where the world enters and we encounter it. There are two through which we cast it out. Our skin is special, because it does both - in our skin, our bodies, we are a unity. Women have another two orifices - the nipples by which we nourish the world. I suppose what I am trying to say is that these numbers are not arbitrary. Like the Seven Voyages of Sinbad, they reflect, in story, a physical and spiritual reality. Seven is often thought to be the number of years we take to fully comprehend something. After seven years our bodies have changed completely, Have renewed ourselves completely after seven years.
People often laugh at Moses and Odysseus, why did they take so LONG to find their way through the desert, back to Ithaca? The journey only makes sense if you look at it as allegorical or symbolic or metaphorical. It is a journey of encountering difficulties, challenges, trials and tests - and only when you have passed them, then you reach land, or port. Moses wasn't allowed into the Promised Land because he doubted God. It always seemed particularly cruel to me that he was only allowed to see it. But the new must discard the old completely - a snake sloughs off its skin completely, it retains none of the old skin. So too the Israelites had to leave Moses, the consciousness which guided them to the Promised Land behind, to take up a new consciousness.
All these stories are stories of initiation. Life is an initiation. We are constantly tested and in our testing we often fail. Seeking true north is done every single day. I wonder if the monks, sitting out on those islands at night hoped they would hear the voice of god. Did they? Did they hear god speak?
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