Behind me are the ruins of an early Christian church, a holy well and the cave of a hermit. The track meanders downward, across a field and onto a limestone terrace. It’s quiet, beautiful and relaxing. We share a cheese sandwich and a flask of water. Nothing happens. Perfect. The Burren – West of Ireland.
Adapted from William Bennett, Narrative of a Recent Journey of Six Weeks in Ireland. London: C. Gilpin, 1847, pp. 25-9. We spent the whole morning visiting these hovels, followed by an ever increasing group of wretched creatures, who begged for help. We avoided houses known to contain the fever. Some were easily identifiable by the small … Continue reading