County Meath
Traveling on country lanes, bordered by a thick growth of Queen Anne’s Lace in bloom, we thought the countryside of County Meath was as pretty as a movie set. It was just like I had glimpsed over Shannon – flat, undulating, GREEN land, full of grazing sheep; houses and cottages each with its garden, both in impeccable condition. Crossing over N1 at Swords, with another significant castle, we also passed over N2 and N3 until we came to Trim. Getting further away from the coast, there were some interesting places I wanted to go to in this region.
Trim Castle was first built by Hugh de Lacy but was destroyed a year later by Rory O’Conner, the last High King of Ireland. Reconstructed around 1200, it is one of the few castles that are in their original state. The largest Anglo-Norman castle built in Ireland, it drew us here because it was used extensively in Mel Gibson’s movie Braveheart, filmed in 1996.
Across the River Boyne was the “Yellow Steeple,” once part of the bell tower of St. Mary’s Abbey, rebuilt in 1368. In 1415, Sir John Talbot, then Viceroy of Ireland, took part of the ruins of the abbey and built a manor house known as Talbot Castle. In the 18th century, it was purchased by Esther Stella Johnson. She was the mistress of Jonathan Swift, who subsequently acquired it. Jonathan Swift was rector of nearby Laracor where he died. He had also been dean of St. Patrick Cathedral in Dublin. Of course, he also wrote Gullivers Travels.
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Church on Tara Hill
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More country lanes brought us to Tara Hill, the place where the mightiest Celtic King was crowned. We walked through the “kissing gate” then up the hill to the church where we fit through a narrow slit in the wall. Both of these devices were built to keep the sheep in and out. Walking out of the church grounds onto the Hill of Tara itself, we had to be extremely careful to miss the copious amount of sheep droppings, which covered the ground. The black-faced white sheep began a cacophony of boos, warning their lambs of the approach of humans.
The seat of power of the Celtic High Kings of Ireland for over a thousand years, the Hill of Tara occupies a place in history and legends. Burial mounds go even further back to 4000 years. We came to the two, large ring forts. Atop one of these was the phallic Stone of Destiny, representing the joining of the gods of earth and of the heavens. Supposedly, the future king would stand on the top of this. If the stone let out three big roars, the king would be crowned. He was not considered King of Ireland but just the supreme King of all the chiefs of the land. Nearby is a mass grave of thirty-seven persons killed during the 1798 Uprising, with a gravestone commemorating these heroes.
From this elevated spot, we had grand vistas in all directions. We walked back down into the beautiful, church burial grounds. The church is now the Tara Visitor Center where a 20-minute video is shown entitled “Tara: Meeting Place of Heroes.” We were too late for that and for the tour, which is supposed to bring the mounds to life.
Personally, I had wanted to go to Tara because that is the name of Scarlett O’Hara’s plantation in Gone With The Wind. I remembered that Scarlett was Irish. I wonder if Margaret Mitchell knew about the significance of Tara Hill in Ireland. I’m sure she must have.
We’d been riding on Highway 114 or smaller farm lanes off of it. We continued on a similar lane to Navan. A beautiful rainbow appeared just beyond Tara. It was the perfect ending to a gorgeous day. We realized that even though it had been cloudy sometimes, it hadn’t rained. Maybe the rainbow was “luck of the Irish” sign for us. From Navan, the N3 goes to Kells but there’s not much to see there since the Book of Kells was moved to Dublin. So we took N51 to Slane, a tiny estate village. We chose to spend the night here because it was 8:00pm by this time. Unfortunately, the B&B, which would have been our choice, was already full for the night. It had a beautiful view overlooking the bridge and the River Boyne.
The Conyngham Arms Hotel, built in the middle of the 19th century, had a beautiful, period room available. We had a grand, canopied bed with rose-flowered fabric and matching draperies. This was not a “wannabe” but the real thing. But again it was above budget at IR£ a night. The brochure states that it is conveniently located to several important sites including Tara, which was for centuries the seat of the Celtic high kings – one of the wonders of Europe – a Celtic Camelot.
The Poets Rest was our choice for the place to have dinner. We had another genuine pub experience with all locals present, with the exception of a couple from Australia and us. We had fried onion rings for an appetizer. Then I had a meal of roasted duck (one of the best I’ve had anywhere in the world), chips (fat French fries for those who don’t know) and the ever present coleslaw (which I never tire of).
A surprise was in store for us! The place had traditional Irish music on Thursday night starting about ten o’clock. Two old gents played the fiddle and the accordion while two young guys played the mandolin and keyboard. They performed Irish gigs, ballads and waltzes. Everyone knew each other and the young and the old mixed together. Our waitress, who was a pretty Irish coleen, said she was happy with cows and horses, illustrating how rural this area was. Everyone clapped after each song as these locals appreciated the music played by their peers. I was greatly surprised when the young mandolin player sang the first song of the evening and it was… “Good Night Irene.” I didn’t even know it was Irish!
We left about 11:00pm as we were tired, and we went to bed shortly thereafter. I awoke at 4:30am with jet lag so wrote in my journal again and read guidebooks. Then I took a long, leisurely bath. I was so fresh and perky when my TC (Travel Companion) woke up at 8:00am. We went down for our big Irish breakfast at 9:00. I had poached eggs, bacon which is like fried ham, toast and tea. The dining room was nicely appointed.
We had spent the night here because we didn’t want to go any further and miss going to Newgrange. The best-preserved passage graves in Europe, dating back to 3500 B.C., are located there. These graves were buried and forgotten for four thousand years. Then they were discovered three hundred years ago, miraculously with their structures still virtually intact. A new visitor center called Bru na Boinne, the “dwelling place” or Palace of the Boyne, has recently been constructed. Encompassing an area between Slane and Drogheda, the main tombs are at Newgrange, Knowth and Dowth. This was our first stop of the day. We parked our car and walked to the Visitor Center where we took a bus to Newgrange.
What a marvel these Stone Age people created 5000 years ago, predating Stonehenge and even the pyramids! The quartz and granite for this Newgrange structure was quarried from the Mourne Mountains to the north and the Wicklow Mountains, just south of Dublin. The great stones inside and out have circular and spiral designs similar to the Celts but occurring before their time here. The archeologists have constructed a whole alphabet for these people. We just need a Rosetta-like stone to unlock the mysteries behind it all.
I climbed through the doorway and walked along the passage to the center of the structure. Above the doorway is the roof box. On the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, at dawn, sunlight comes into the grave for fifteen minutes. Our guide turned off the lights and with a flashlight tried to simulate the effect for us. It was eerie in the dark. Three bays were in the center, where cremations had been held for five persons. It seems to have had spiritual meaning. As the sun returns each year, so may the souls or even the bodies of these people return. This New Year also gave rebirth to the crops in this agricultural community.
Backtracking the eight kilometers to Slane, we crossed the bridge over the River Boyne and took pictures of the entrance to Slane Castle, which was severely damaged by fire in the 1990′s. Slane is a tiny village that has four identical, Georgian houses at its crossroads, cause for much speculation. A church with a separate bell tower also caught my eye.
