Sunday 14th June
A nice quiet and undisturbed night.
As we were parked right outside Charles Fort we had to make
a visit. We paid our money and were really surprised as to how well preserved
it all was, even the grass was well manicured!
I could almost sense the soldiers wandering around.
Being a woman, I was flabbergasted at how the soldier’s
wives were treated. Only a tiny
percentage of ordinary soldiers in a regiment were officially permitted to
marry "on the strength." For those few couples, the wife was
recognized by the army, allowed to live within the garrison (often in cramped,
shared quarters separated only by blankets), and received half-rations. These women earned their keep by doing essential,
heavy labour for the garrison—primarily cooking, mending uniforms, and managing
the heavy, boiling tubs in the laundry blocks.
If a soldier married without the commanding officer’s permission, his
wife was "off the strength." She received no rations, no medical
care, and no housing. When a regiment was reassigned or shipped abroad, these
women and their children were simply left behind at the fort gates.
Charles Fort is a spectacularly preserved 17th century star-shaped military fortress which was constructed in the late 1670s. It is one of the largest and most impressive military fortifications in the country, commanding a magnificent, strategic vantage point right over the waters of Kinsale Harbour. Having played a significant role in major historical events like the Williamite War (including the Siege of Kinsale in 1690) and the Irish Civil War, the interior houses a fascinating mix of ruins, including old soldiers' barracks, officer quarters, ammunition stores, and stable blocks.
On the opposite side of the river are the ruins of James
Fort. Together, they represent the strategic military weight Kinsale held on
the world stage during the conflicts between England, Spain, and France. Historically, a massive iron chain was
stretched across the seabed between these two fortresses and raised to
physically block enemy warships from entering the inner harbour.
We needed LPG and I had found a garage in Cork which sold
it. (LPG is not that easy to come by in Ireland). It was very expensive at £1.36 a litre (it is
usually around £1 a litre). however, their diesel was £1.56, but we didn’t need
any 😢
We drove to a beach just south of Youghal - it doesn’t seem
to have a name! We were on an aire
called Frank’s Field with space for 20 motorhomes, which backed onto the beach.
Without electricity it was £10. The beach wasn’t the best but Rio enjoyed it,
nevertheless.
One of my last minute Amazon purchases before we left home
was an AA road atlas of Ireland. I didn’t have time to look at it before we
left but it has been indispensable. It is A4 and has shown the WAW in yellow
which has been brilliant. I have had two phones going with Google on. One has
been attached to CarPlay and the other on my knee so I could watch where we
were heading to. The map was on the table behind me so I could grab it
quickly. So often Mrs Google wanted to
cut a mile off our journey by sending us down a totally unsuitable road, so if
I could grab the map in time, I could reroute Richard! However, now the WAW has ended I have to work
out where we are going, certainly not so many single track roads with grass
growing down the middle of them!! I am
missing the WAW though
☹️
Today’s myth/legend
Right in the southern suburbs of Cork City sits The Lough, a
tranquil limestone lake with a tragic, submerged backstory. Long ago, a great king named Corc had a
palace in a lush valley where the lake now sits. In his courtyard was a spring
of pure, magical water. Fearing it would run dry, the king locked it away
behind a heavy door, letting only his daughter, Fíoruisce ("Spring
Water"), hold the key. During a
grand feast, Fíoruisce went to fetch water with a heavy golden goblet. She lost
her balance and fell into the well. The magical waters burst forth with such untameable
force that they flooded the entire valley, drowning the palace. It is said that
on clear days, you can glimpse the towers beneath the water, and on quiet
nights, you can still hear the phantom music of the king's eternal party
playing from the depths.
The What3words for Sunday were
https://w3w.co/doorstep.explanation.trustees
Monday 15th June
We were pitched with our heads slightly downhill and both
woke up with headaches! We will have to
watch that in future.
We drove to Tesco in Youghal to do some shopping. I had wanted to have a look round Youghal but
I couldn’t see anywhere to park a motorhome. I wanted to see the Youghal Clock
Gate Tower which was built in 1777 on the site of the old medieval city gate,
this iconic structure straddles North Main Street. It served as a jail during
turbulent times and is now an excellent museum.
Film buffs love that John Huston used Youghal's harbour as "New
Bedford" in his classic 1956 movie Moby Dick. You can still grab a pint at
the Moby Dick Pub on the pier, which is packed with memorabilia from the
production. Photo borrowed from the internet.
We drove up towards Waterford along good straight roads with
plenty of room, it made such a difference not being pushed into the hedge all
the time. There have been times when I
have had to shut my eyes as there is a wall much too close to Kiwi for my
liking!
We headed to the Waterford Suir Valley Railway where there
is a narrow gauge diesel train ride. It
was a very bumpy ride but it was a lovely view right down the side of the River
Suir. I'm afraid that Rio didn't like it
at all, he normally loves trains but obviously prefers first class steam
trains!
The line’s creation was heavily driven and funded by William
Cavendish, the 7th Duke of Devonshire. His goal was to connect his sprawling
estate at Lismore Castle with the port at Waterford to export cattle, sheep,
pigs, and fresh salmon caught on the River Blackwater. Because the South Waterford landscape is so
undulating and hilly, building the line was an engineering headache. It
required a series of sharp curves, steep gradients, deep rock cuttings, several
spectacular stone over-bridges and a 418-foot tunnel at Durrow. It quickly
earned a reputation as one of the most scenic—but financially draining—railway
routes in Europe. The line originally opened to traffic on August 12th
1878.
For nearly a century, the standard-gauge (5ft 3in) line was
a vital artery for County Waterford. The line suffered during the Irish Civil
War; in August 1922, the spectacular Ballyvoyle Viaduct further down the line
was blown up by the IRA, causing a train to crash into the breach. It was later
rebuilt. After World War II, passenger and freight traffic dwindled as
road transport took over. The national transport operator, CIÉ, officially
closed the line to regular passenger and freight traffic on March 27,
1967.
The idea to bring the railway back to life was actually born
over drinks at a New Year's Eve party in 1996 between Frank O’Donoghue (Chief
Executive of the Waterford Chamber) and Michael Wilcock (a railway enthusiast).
To make the heritage project viable and family-friendly, the volunteers chose
to build a narrow-gauge (3-foot) railway instead of the original standard
gauge. Starting in 2000, a dedicated crew—led by a retired Irish Rail inspector
named Dan Donovan—manually cleared the overgrowth and laid the new narrow track
using picks and shovels, just as the Victorians had done.
The 6 mile long Waterford and Suir Valley Railway officially
opened to the public in May 2003.
I had found a park up a few miles away at Killoteran on the
Waterford Greenway overlooking both the railway track and the river.
The Greenway is Ireland’s longest off-road trail (28.5 miles
in length) and follows the old railway track which is a mostly flat path from
the heart of Waterford City all the way to the coastal harbour town of
Dungarvan. Because it follows an old
railway line, the gradients are gentle, making it exceptionally accessible for
walkers, cyclists, and visitors looking for a smooth, scenic journey.
Right next to the car park are some lime kilns. During the 1800s and early 1900s, lime burning was a widespread rural industry across Ireland. Local workers would pack these kilns with layers of crushed limestone and fuel (such as coal or wood) and burn them at intense temperatures exceeding 900°C to create quicklime. They were located by the railway as it allowed heavy loads of coal to be delivered easily right to the top of the kilns. Once the limestone was burned down into a powder, it was used by local farmers to sweeten the soil (reducing soil acidity) and as whitewash for traditional thatched cottages. The train line made it seamless to ship the heavy product across the agricultural heartlands of County Waterford.
In the evening the car park filled up with joggers, I just
hoped they wouldn't start at 6am in the morning.
Today's myth/legend
Located in a field just a short distance from the
Kilmacthomas section of the Greenway, the Cloughlowrish Stone (Cloch Labhrais,
meaning "The Speaking Stone") is a massive, fractured glacial erratic
boulder. According to local folklore,
this giant rock was once a living, speaking entity capable of delivering
absolute justice. It acted as an ancient lie detector for the local
community. The story goes that a local
woman came to the stone to swear her innocence regarding a serious accusation.
The moment she uttered a lie, a massive crack split the boulder completely in
two. It hasn't spoken a word since, but the deep fissure remains as a permanent
warning to dishonest travellers.
The What3words for Monday were
https://w3w.co/paragraph.reissued.cubs
Tuesday 16th June
There were no joggers at 6am but it was raining when we woke
up though it did improve throughout the day.
We headed to New Ross to visit the Dunbrody Famine Ship, a
full-scale replica built locally in New Ross, County Wexford, Ireland.
Construction began in 1997 and the ship was officially launched on February
11th 2001.
The original Dunbrody was commissioned by the Graves family
of New Ross and built in Quebec in 1841.
As a merchant vessel carrying timber from Canada, guano from Peru, and
cotton from the American South, the Dunbrody was quickly refitted to carry
passengers when potato blight devastated Ireland. Between 1845 and 1851, she carried an
estimated 4,200 emigrants across the Atlantic. While many vessels of the era
earned the grim nickname "coffin ships" due to horrific mortality
rates caused by overcrowding and disease, the Dunbrody had a remarkably high
survival rate. This was largely credited to her captains, John Baldwin and
later William Williams, who maintained strict hygiene standards and ensured
adequate water rations.
Life onboard the Dunbrody during her emigrant voyages
(1845–1851) was a test of sheer psychological and physical endurance. For the
steerage passengers - the poorest travellers who occupied the lower decks - the
six-week journey across the Atlantic was defined by darkness, confinement, and
rigid rules. The lower deck was
essentially a long, dark warehouse with a ceiling less than six feet high. Wooden bunks measuring roughly six feet
square were built in tiers along the sides of the hull. Each of these platforms
was shared by up to four or five people - often entire families - packed in
side-by-side with their few remaining earthly belongings. There was no electricity and no windows. The
only natural light and fresh air came down through the open hatchways. Passengers were only permitted up on the main
deck for about one hour each day to breathe fresh air and use the basic
latrines. The other 23 hours were spent below. If a storm rolled in, the crew
battened down the hatches completely, leaving hundreds of people trapped in
pitch blackness, tossing violently in the stifling heat. Passengers had to be largely self-sufficient
when it came to meals. The ship provided
legal minimums of basic dry provisions—mainly biscuit, meal, flour, and a
strict allotment of about three quarts of water per day. To cook, passengers had to take turns using
the galley—open, brick-lined fire hearths up on the exposed top deck. If the
weather was calm, queues formed early. If a gale was blowing and waves were
crashing over the deck, the fires could not be lit. Passengers went hungry,
having to eat raw meal mixed with water.
Standing in the hold of the
Dunbrody it was hard to imagine about 200 people in there hanging on, as
the ship pitched and tossed in the Atlantic Ocean.
On our way back to Kiwi, we passed a butchers which looked
good. Good? It was amazing! The best butchers I have ever been in. Not only was there wonderful fresh meat but
yummy looking ready meals and lots of meats all ready prepared for the
oven.
We drove down to Hook Head where there is one of the oldest
operational lighthouses in the entire world - over 800 years old. The structure
seen today was built in the early 13th century, around 1201 to 1205, by William
Marshal, the Earl of Pembroke to guide his commercial trade ships safely into
the port of New Ross.
Long before the Norman stone tower was erected, a 6th
century Welsh monk named Saint Dubhán established a monastery on the peninsula.
The monks kept a beacon fire burning on the headland to warn sailors of the
treacherous, jagged rocks below, making it a site of maritime safety for nearly
1,500 years.
The lower and middle tiers of the main stone tower, the
massive vaulted stone ceilings inside the chambers, and the rough-hewn 115-step
spiral staircase are all original though the light has been modified over the
years as technology has advanced. The
light was fully automated in 1996.
There is a park up about 500 yards from the lighthouse which
suited us nicely. Our last lovely Irish
park up 😢
As we drove to Hook Head I noticed a large house, Loftus
Hall, perched on the edge of the cliff. The driveway was all blocked up so I
guess the Hall is shut up now. So today’s legend comes from the Loftus Hall.
The mansion's reputation as "the most haunted house in
Ireland" stems from a famous 18th-century ghost story involving the
Tottenham family, who resided there at the time. According to legend, during a severe storm, a
mysterious stranger arrived at the house seeking shelter. The family took him
in, and over the course of several days, a young woman named Anne Tottenham
became quite close with him. One evening while playing a game of cards, Anne
dropped a card on the floor. When she bent down to retrieve it, she glanced
under the table and noticed the stranger had a cloven hoof instead of a human
foot. Upon being discovered, the
stranger allegedly transformed into a ball of fire and shot straight through
the roof. Anne was left deeply traumatized, spending the rest of her days
locked away in the mansion's Tapestry Room until her death. Visitors and past
staff have long claimed to see her ghost wandering the corridors.
The What3words for Tuesday
https://w3w.co/invented.debates.cautiously
No comments:
Post a Comment