Wild Wicklow

On my last day in Dublin, I ventured into the countryside to the south about 60 miles.  This area is known as Wicklow.  The houses only became more beautiful as we winded on little roads up into the hills.  We past the street where Bono lives, then a tower where James Joyce spent his last night before his death.  The Irish are a proud people and I admire this enthusiasm, but have trouble imagining being so rooted in my country and heretage.  Wicklow was the last county to succumb to English rule, they fought hard and long. 

THE BOGLANDS

Then we reach the highest area in Ireland, a big open wild preserve. These are where the boglands are. Pictured above, this area is too wet for trees and is covered in mosses that, as they die, accumulate into a deep spongy deposit of dead plant material called peet. This mucky, spongy, dark wet material continues deep into the ground and one can fall into it and never get out.  (sheep have been known to get stuck)  This is where some of the oldest well-preserved human remains have been found. 

The Celts who lived here around 500 BC believed the bogs were cursed and they would bury their slain enemies in the bogs to trap them for eternity.  In the early 1900's (as most of the trees were cleared and used) the Irish would dig up the peet in the bog to dry and burn as fuel.  As they got deeper over time, they discovered the bodies. They assumed they were murdered and recently buried, since they still had hair and skin and nails.  In reality, the conditions of the bog had preserved these bodies over 2,500 years old.  They even found a barrel of butter dated at 500 BC.   

ST. KEVIN'S MONASTERY  

We also visited an old monastery from 600 AD.  As the story goes, St. Kevin decided to lead a monastic life of celibacy and came to this area high in the mountains.  He and other monks built buildings out of stone to study, worship and generally live simply within. But there was a woman who was still in love with him and would come visit him, trying to seduce him and win him back.  Once, when he felt the natural temptation of her flesh, it is told he stripped naked and rolled in the thorn bushes. Soon, he became more secluded and moved to the far side of the lake that sits a couple miles beyond the monastery. He lived the rest of his life as a hermit there. 



The older area of the graveyard with a tower



These buildings are now surrounded by headstones from 1600's to today.  This area was so serene with the mists and the hills cradling it. It was wet, but warm. After exploring the buildings and graves we had time to hike 30 minutes up to the 2nd lake where St. Kevin once lived in solitude. ( I was the last to leave to

leave the graveyard- cemeteries have always fascinated me)    



Looking into one of the Monastery rooms, now inhabited by a spider.



The upper lake- a glacier carved lake that drops off to significant depths.