Ireland: beautiful Glendalough

Glendalough - valley of two lakes. Home of the 7th century monastic site of St. Kevin. A day that threatened rain, with full clouds and wet air, remained freshly Irish-overcast. A perfect day for a pilgrimage to the ancient monastic village.

The famous Glendalough round tower. Originally a bell tower and place for refuge.

It's the first thing you see of the monastic village, rising up over the misty forest.

St. Kevin's Church. Not built in St. Kevin's time but later, during the medieval period.

I sang a made-up chant through the iron gate and listened as the sound swirled up 

into the attached round "steeple."

Ruins of Reefert Church up the hill.

Crosses worn smooth by the hands of pilgrims.

Local legend says that if you can wrap your arms around the entire width of St. Kevin's Cross 

and close the circle by touching your fingertips together, your wish will be granted.

Sheila and I had to work together to make this wish come true.

 We talked down a wooded path...

And climbed up to St. Kevin's Cell, where it's said his little stone "beehive" hut used to be. The hut is long gone, but the view and the silence and the scope of the entire valley and the mountains and the view of the upper lake lie before you and it takes your breath away. Or maybe it was just those steps...

I sat in the imprint of the cell and meditated until a little boy roared past me 

and I had to warn him not to fall off a cliff or I'd be very, very, very upset with him.

Nobody dies in Ireland on my watch.

 Thoroughly chilled, with sore feet, knees and hips, we retired to the pub

for a (decaf) Irish coffee, a gorgeous shot of The Jameson...

 ...and hot whiskey. Mmmm, hot whiskey. 

Why yes, adorable Irish bartender. Yes, I'd love another...