Croagh Patrick & Famine Houses

Cead Mile Failte! (Here comes another one!)

It feels like forever, and so much has happened since my last post. As I mentioned, I missed the 1st of only 2 busses and had the luxury of spending another morning in Dublin. I hopped on a bus and visited Archbishop Marsh's Library. It was constructed in 1701, making it the oldest library in all of Ireland. Readers, mostly Trinity College students, were locked in a cage with the books chained to a rod in the bookcase. The library is exactly the same today as it was then - even the bell without the striker in cage one where Stella (Jonathan Swift's love) lost her life as she was forgotten in the cage.

I saw the pub on Dawsons Stree that only holds 14 people. Talk about cozy; you could fall over and never hit the ground. :-)

Journeyed west for the night, and was picked up to join my photography group. We are a fabulous bunch of women who get on so well. We vary in age and personality, but we share a common love to photograph to show how we see the world. Some excel at striking up conversations, and I for one am still working on that.

We spent Saturday photographing what Olcan (our local guide) refers to as Timescape Photography. We are not only capturing images of objects or people - but thinking about all the history and spirit of the place we photograph. We visited the Coffin Ship monument in Murrisk. It's photos will speak for themselves, I promise you. Olcan had the honor of performing (he's a very accomplished traditional musician) at the unveiling ceremony with President Mary Robinson in 1991.

As President, Mary did much in commissioning works to commemorate the Famine Years and had the works scattered all across Ireland. She initiated the light in the presidential home in Phoenix Park, a model of the White House, to remain on until all who emigrated return "home".

There are only two residences in all of Phoenix Park in Dublin. One is the home of the acting President. The other is a beautiful home on 60 acres for the American Ambassador as a thank you for all America did in accepting famine victims and working to create a plan for their succesful transition.

We photographed the remains of Murrisk Friary, built in 1457 in the shadow of Croagh Patrick, and wandered around the adjacent cemetaries.

After lunch (tuna melt wrap and water) filled the belly, we hiked up the hill to the Croagh Patrick monument. I spoke with a young man who had just come down from the mountain, who tried convincing me that this vertical hike "tweren't too bad; you should try it." Of course, he had a devlish sparkle in his eye and he laughed a bit. Irish humor, you know. :-)

Outside Campbell's, a meeting place for many who make the pilgrimmage up Croagh Patrick on the last Sunday in July, we captured the essence of a long-time local. The joy and contentment in her face is a testament to her strength. A truly delightful lady.

Later in the afternoon, with perfect light, we journeyed through Louisburgh on to Barnabawn to make Timescape Landscapes of several abandoned famine houses. One, untouched since the 1850's - the other re-roofed and lived in until the family moved to Germany to find work in the late 1950's.

Olcan spoke of how there were actually two famines in close proximity. The first famine 1845-1847 claimed nearly 2 million people who passed. The second, from 1855, saw another 2 million people emigrating to Britain, Australia, and America. In the late 1840's, there were 8 million people living in Ireland; last year, they just reached the 4 million mark. Today, they still receive "blight" warnings so that they can spread an organic powder on their fields to prevent the loss of the potatoe - especially in wet conditions to keep them from rotting in the ground.

In the graveyards at the friary are many rocks of different sizes. Each of these represents someone who passed in the famine and were "lucky enough to be buried in Irish soil." Many of those who emigrated left weak and sick; if they dies on ship, they were given a typical sea burial. Many more, who made it to the island off Quebec are buried in mass graves. Also, now bearing a monument, honoring their lives with a promise to not let it happen again.

After a delicious dinner (pork & potatoes - how fitting with mushroom soup), we were off to Cronin's Pub to enjoy the local flavor and listen to Olcan and his mates perform. Jeannie and I had our first Guiness, and we were all weary yet sad to head back at midnight.

To be continued...