deBurgh Gardens, Naas

Twelve years ago I recorded how I had looked through railings to the OldTown House gardens in Naas. Now, a week ago, I read that the gardens, now renamed de Burghs Woodland Garden as"the jewel in the Naas crown", have recently been opened to the public between Thursday and Sunday 9am to 4pm prompt. As a detour from a Nass hike (whilst my other half was exercising in a local swimming pool) I decided to investigate and found myself looking over the same railings but from the other side. A lovely place to walk but the paths are dressed with sharp stones so not at all bare foot friendly.

2026 Foray #3 Monasteries of the Moy

My outgoing track cycling to Carrowmore
37.5km, 296m elevation gain

I guess that you have already guessed that I collect greenways in Ireland (North or South). Greenways are a bit of a novelty here - when we first moved to the South in 1984-85 there was only one way-marked long distance walk and no "greenways" as such. Covid did a lot to change that, with folk looking for alternative but safe ways of maintaining health. 

And so I discovered the Monasteries of the Moy Greenway and, naturally, had to experience it. I biked to Sallins and thence by various trains to Ballina, the Salmon Capital of Ireland. The route starts in Ballina in Belleek Woods which is one of the largest urban woodlands in Europe.

North Mayo is home to at least six historic abbeys of which four form the basis of the Monasteries of the Moy and my route. The map below enumerates my main points of interest.

(A) Augustinian Abbey Ballina.  This Franciscan Abbey is thought to have been built on the site of a former religious site called the Augustinian House of St. Mary of Ardnaree. The current remains are thought to have been founded by Tadhg Riabhach Ó’Dubhda (O’Dowd), King of Uí. My photo is from the other side of the Moy.

(B) Rosserk Friary was built by the Joyce family circa 1440 for the Friars of the Franciscan Third Order Regular. It is one of the finest and best preserved Friaries in Ireland. There is uncertainty as to when the Friary was dissolved but there are reports that Friars remained in the area in 1606.

Rosserk Friary

(C) Moyne Abbey.  This friary was consecrated in 1462 and is still almost perfect, except the roof and some buildings on the North side. It was burned  in 1590 by Sir Richard Bingham, the English Governor of Connaught, during the Tudor reconquest and Protestant Reformation

Moyne Abbey

(D) Round Tower, Killala. Not strictly an abbey, but historic all the same.

Round Tower, Killali

(E) Rathfran Dominican Abbey, just north of Killala so technically not part of the greenway which ends at Killala. This abbey was founded in 1274 by the de Exeter family. Rathfran once had a fine east window of which only the side piers and their well moulded angle shafts remain. In 1438 indulgences were granted to those who could donate money to allow the building of a refectory and bell-tower. It was dissolved in 1577 and granted to Thomas de Exeter, and burned by Sir Richard Bingham’s army in 1590.  

Rathfran Abbey

The ruins of the 5th and 6th abbeys which I did not visit, are on the shores of Lough Conn, south of Ballina: Straide Abbey, Foxford and Errew Abbey, Crossmolina.

My landmark (F) was my destination Carrowmore beach - a beautiful sandy strand backed by dunes of long grass which I deemed not suitable for camping.

Visible from hereabouts are (G) the Gazebo on the hill opposite Carrowmore, and (H) the odd shaped mountain Aghaleague: I visited neither.

stock photo of the Gazebo

The Gazebo is worthy of mention: it is one of the most conspicuous or curious sculptures being formed of a double arch of rough stones. From Carrowmore it is visible on the horizon only as a somewhat squat building with daylight shining through, and that patch of daylight was only just discernible to the naked eye (with my long distance glasses on). It is even less discernible in my photos which says something about the camera resolution on my Pixel 10 Pro compared with the human eye. 

looking south from Carrowmore: Aghaleague on the left ?

Speaking of the abbeys, in my musings whilst cycling I wondered at the lives of the men that financed and built these ornate and comprehensive structures and at the lives of the men that served in them faithfully under the rules of their order. Compare the significant edifices of these Abbeys with the capricious Gazebo - the former a deep religious expression, the latter probably a man's folly. Which set me thinking about the religious community of which I am a part, albeit sometimes reluctantly. 

The building of the abbeys and their estates may have been initially funded by landed gentry as acts of contrition then maintained by the religious order as a service to God. Our community estate was similarly funded and is now maintained as a service to God. Each of the abbeys had their heyday, and each their demise by over enthusiastic but misled megalomaniacs. We have witnessed the recent demise of communities similar in purpose to ours: what does that say of our community? 

You can check out the rest of my photos here.

2026 Foray#2 Derrynane overnight

The Dingle Peninsula

Gorgeous weather and a longing to foray, so I walked down to the end of our road and caught the 65 'bus to the Square and then the Luas to Heuston rail station where I rode the Cork express to Mallow and the branch line from there to Killarney.

I had over an hour to kill in Killarney so took the opportunity to walk to the Lidl to purchased hard tack and orange juice, returning via a public WC to the bus station. All activity at my age revolves around where is the next WC: the bus station has a nice little café which boasts one WC cubicle "for customer use". My next modus operandi was the 270 bus to Kenmare then the 281 bus towards Waterville but I got off at Caherdaniel and walked the last 40 minutes to my destination.  Beautiful Derrynane, in particular the Long Beach.  

 

Derrynane

Here I explored my environs as one always must, and picked a suitable hollow to "hide" my tent as a sign noted that camping was strictly not permitted. Having come all this way and the day being almost over what was I to do? So I did it anyway and put the onus on whoever erected that sign to find me and tell me to move over. My tent in a hollow was all but invisible from most angles. I slept and woke the next morning without incident. Although I did have to share the domain with numerous rabbits.

My return trip was largely the inverse of my outward journey. I walked back to Caherdaniel to catch the 281 bus to its terminus at Waterville, then switched to the 280 to Killorglin and then to Killarney. Then Irish Rail to Heuston, the Luas to the Square and an interminable wait (over an hour) for the 65 bus that goes past our road as it terminates at Ballyknockan across the lake. And a 20 minute walk back home where I enjoyed a shower and a curry prepared by my better half.

Why did I go? Partly because I could (as in my Free Travel pass). Partly because I love watching the scenery fly past (glued to the window I rarely read). Partly because my chosen destination and/or the route there is so beautiful. Now-a-days I choose an easy final route for walking or cycling (not too much elevation please). And some decent weather please. 

Derrynane has well maintained public WC, as does Killarney railway station.  The bus station has a nice café which I availed of for a light lunch.

I'm glad that I did go, and have these photos as a memorial.

The morning after

See here for a nice aerial view

     

2026 Foray#1 Rosslare to Kilmore Quay revisited

My track along the coast: 30.25km, 177m elevation gain

Gulp... was this really my first proper Foray this year? I blame the weather for my reticence - it has been, and still is, quite cold, and has been windy and wet to boot. I wanted an easy start, hence revisiting a known successful hike on the level to suit my medical condition. 

The outward journey was the 65 bus from the bottom of our road to Dublin, thence the Iarnród Éireann service to Rosslare Europort (which route must rank as one of the most scenic rail journeys in the British Isles).

One overnight in the sand dunes (it was predictably but uncomfortably cold during the night). I set off at 6am on the morrow and made it to Kilmore Quay one hour ahead of schedule.

The return journey was a juggle of bus rides: Kilmore Quay to Wexford, then the Express service to Arlow, then the recently changed 183 service to Glendalough and the 895 back to the bottom of our road.

Perhaps I should mention the most excellent fruit scones I purchased in Murphy's Rosslare SuperValu which supplemented my meager rations.

My photos here.

Points of interest

Here is a dissertation on variously spelled Saint Vogue whose playground was Carnsore Point and who apparently sailed on a granite boulder across to France (it returned on its one). Carnsore Point (and here I quote Wikipedia) was the proposed site for Ireland's first nuclear power plant in the late 1960s to 1970s. Following the 1973 oil crisis, plans were intensified to build up to four reactors, but strong public opposition, organized anti-nuclear rallies, and festivals (1978–1981) led to the project's abandonment in 1981. I am so thankful. Instead the area boasts a wind farm which (in comparison) I can live with.

Then there is The Cut where every year they artificially let water drain from Lady's Island Lake, and similarly a bit further on from Tacumsin Lake.

And, nearer to Kilmore Quay, much coastal erosion. 

Church mountain revisited

 

My track: 23.65km, 540m elevation gain, avg 5.34km/h

Apart from making proper use of the amazingly good weather, I habitually make this pilgrimage at this time of the year to test the decline in my stamina. Results? Well, I made it, even if arriving exhausted back home, even if I skipped the last few metres to the summit, due to lack of time. Even if I had to keep reverting to walking as dictated by my angina symptoms.  Will I make it next year? I hope so, but it might be with less jogging, more walking.

On the ascent

From (almost) the summit

On the descent

Via  Holywood glen

Jonathan's Bay

Jonathan's Bay (somewhat submerged)

It was Sunday afternoon that I decided to explore the trail (recently upgraded) from the carpark on the Valleymount side of the bridge, to Jonathan's Bay.

My track: just short of 9 km

Jonathan's Bay, lovingly named after my eldest, is at the bottom right of this map. My track follows the trail which ends one side of a fence doubtless erected by the ESB. The road is on the other side. I'm not sure what the trail blazers intended at this point, but it was very muddy so I retraced my steps.

Click on the images to view full-screen.

The trail

Where Annacarney Brook empties into Jonathan's Bay

The trail again

 

Mothering Sunday

I wish my mother were still alive. Then I would buy her a flamboyant bouquet of flowers on this day. More important, I would sit by her side and share all those things that I have longed to be able to talk to her about since she passed away. Or would I? 

Remission

Remission (medical): A decrease in or disappearance of signs and symptoms of cancer, signifying a major improvement, but not always a complete cure, as the disease can recur.

In a letter dated December 1957 Lewis wrote: of Joy Davidman's miraculous remission:

My own news continues better than we ever dared to hope. The cancerous bones have rebuilt themselves in a way quite unusual and Joy can now walk: on a stick and with a limp, it is true, but it is a walk–and far less than a year ago it took three people to move her in bed and we often hurt her. Her general health, and spirits, seem excellent. Of course the sword of Damocles hangs over us. Or should I say that circumstances have opened our eyes to see the sword which really hangs always over everyone.

The cure didn't last. She died three years later, a cherished three years together, but none the less three years of remission.

One of the first messages I received about T was in November 2016 and had this heading "Prayer works - keep praying" - T, who was nine at the time, had been admitted to hospital with a dangerously low red blood cells count, leukaemia was diagnosed...  Nine years later, and after so many treatments and hopes, the message I received yesterday read "we are devastated to have to send this message... Sadly, the disease in T's central nervous system overwhelmed his brain and he didn't wake after his procedure yesterday afternoon. We are heartbroken. We said goodbye to him this morning, with the sun shining on his face. It was peaceful and beautiful".

As in that most beautiful of books "I walked up the winding stair, and entered his room. A lovely figure, as white and almost as clear as alabaster, was lying on the bed. I saw at once how it was. They thought he was dead. I knew that he had gone to the back of the north wind".

In 2020 his parents had written: "A new cure for T's cancer (we have already exhausted the existing cures!) offers the only medical chance of life returning to normal for him. The virus isn't gone. His cancer is still there. As far we are concerned we're living with a fragile hope. Hope that we might beat the virus. Hope that God will heal T. Hope that his current treatment could put his cancer in stable remission for long enough so that other curative options might be discovered.  So we keep praying".

Remission. How I hate the word. The word that engenders, fuels, prolongs false hopes. Like playing with and savouring those iconic words "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well" in full defiance of knowing that the reverse is true.

What am I to conclude? That prayer is, at best, wishful thinking? That I wasted my time hoping, and believing as best as I knew how, for "full and forever" healing? My insides are churning even as I write these words. I could revel, as many do, in vain platitudes but I hate such hypocrisy.  I rest my case.

Is it the end of a chapter? If so then I say that another chapter begins. My relationship with T's parents (who I have never met) is stronger for it. I might weep now but I will not forget the journey. I say that all the suffering was not in vain. Possibly even my own so weak faith in a loving God is strengthened rather than shipwrecked.

Why art thou cast down, O my soul? Hope thou in God (Psalm 42)

Seward

Whilst visiting my son in Wasilla, Alaska, we did a 271km overnight trip to Seward on Resurrection Bay. Highlights included the Resurrect Art Coffee House and investigating the Lowell Creek diversion tunnel. Apparently way back and before 1927 Seward authorities allowed premises to be built at the head of Lowell Canyon which is noted for flooding when snow thaws on the mountains either side. To mitigate the risk of flooding the Lowell Creek Diversion Tunnel was completed in 1940, built by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to reroute floodwaters into Resurrection Bay outside the city limits. The tunnel is concrete lined 10ft in diameter and 2,070ft in length and replaced an earlier, failing timber flume built in 1927. Apparently the present diversion is only just good enough - recently the water level has reached within inches of the top of the dam, so plans are afoot to bore a second tunnel. 

The course of the tunnel is evident!

The tunnel starts here

A dam encourages the flow to enter

Also, the 5km Mount Marathon starts here

The tunnel ends here

Travelling a little further south we came to Lowell Point which is just about as far as you can get by car, but is the Caines trailhead which would take you to the ruins of WWII Fort McGilvary at 7.4 miles - that's if you have timed the tides right, because part of the trail is below high water. Needless to say we did not venture there!

Lagan and Lough Way

 

My track 21.1km average 6.4 km/hr

It was a cloudy and rather wet day that I decided to walk part of the Lagan and Lough Way aka Lagan Towpath. I boarded the 65 bus at the bottom of our road at 07:00, walked from its terminus to Connolly Station, boarded the "Enterprise" train service to Portadown, then the local train to Lisburn. I had to get from the station to the towpath - not straightforward but I managed it. Some sign posts would have been helpful. Only to find the towpath was closed for maintenance. Nothing about that in the internet research I had done, and no alternative route signposted or evident from my off-line mapping app. So I squeezed past the barrier hoping for the best.  After a mile or so I met the maintenance team who were only tidying the path edges and they made no attempt to stop me, and I met other walkers anyway.

At some time I plan to do the whole Way on my bike - good thing I hadn't my bike this time as the barriers would have been hard to get past!

Along the Way there are several side paths and, to help the hapless explorer, in some cases the Way is indicated by a green sign which also gives the distance travelled. However the signage is inconsistent or absent at many locations so that the correct path is not always evident.

In spite of all this I made it to my destination, the Grand Central train station, fortunately with time to spare because I had to ask for directions to get past extensive road-works in front of the station. Again, clearer signage would have been helpful!

Lisburn train station

River Lagan in Lisburn

I join the towpath

The reason for the closure

Footpath closed, so what does one do?

Along the Way

Autumn colours despite the rain

2025 Foray: Lough Talt and the Windy Gap

My track through Windy Gap and beside Lough Talt

Waking several times during the night to preempt my alarm, I finally got up at 04:30, left home at 05:00 heading towards Dublin on my bike (40km). The first hour was in the dark, aided by my Black Diamond Sprinter 500 light set and supplementary rear facing red lights for good measure. But just before reaching my destination, Heuston station, I realised something was wrong with my back wheel - it felt, well... wobbly. On further inspection I diagnosed a flat tyre - it got me to Heuston just about before total collapse. I tried pumping it up to no avail. What does one do, stranded 40km from home at 7am?  OK, I was equipped with a spare inner tube and basic tools, and the internet. The latter didn't actually lift a hand to do the work, but did inform me how easy it was to remove the rear wheel on a Trek 1.2 road bike. There wasn't time to do the necessary whilst waiting for the gate to open on my chosen service for Westport, stopping at Manulla Junction where I was to transfer to a two coach back and forth service to Ballina. And there wasn't room on the train to do the work, so I had to suffer the ignominy of a broken bike and the anxiety of travelling even further away from home not knowing for sure how things would turn out. Why anxiety? It was beyond my control, I just could not stop that little voice within saying"what if?".

Cyclists on a train get used to watching the bike rack like a hawk at every station to make sure one's own bike is not totally locked in by other bikes. Choosing a seat within sight of the rack I got to sit opposite to another cyclist whose bike was on top of mine but he was to exit before me so all OK. He turned out to be employed as a programmer in the 5G business and amongst other things we discussed 5G conspiracies and he agreed with me about the fragility of the internet as a whole and how the world has become too dependent on it, citing the scary example of remote surgery via the internet.

Always snap a shot before disassembling

So, unable to fully enjoy the journey because of my little demon "what if?", we eventually arrived at Ballina where I requisitioned the plinth outside the station where I took my bike's rear end apart. A local cycler, who had also just disembarked, offered help which I declined but was very thankful for.  Cyclists are a tight community. Anyway I finished the job and the new tyre remained inflated all the way home. But the repair must have cost me a precious half hour or so of my time allowance for the next segment of my journey which was to cycle up to Windy Gap in the Ox Mountains, then down along beautiful Lough Talt towards my destination Collooney just south of Sligo town (52.2km, elevation gain 377m). So now I had a double whammy - could I make it to the train station in Collooney in time to catch the one and only link to home - more anxiety but this time a tad more controllable as I had allowed for an extra hour in my planning. "Planning", when there is only one viable option, is a bit of an overstatement.  My lunch break (cheese and Branston sarnies) was severely curtailed, but I made it with over a half hour to spare.

Ballina terminus station

The salmon weir, Ballina

From the footbridge across the Moy

Windy Gap

Lought Talt

The route is single track with passing loops all the way until it converges into the Dublin area. My next whammy was at Edgeworthstown where the train sat for 20 minutes waiting for a down train running very late to pass.  My train did make up maybe 10 minutes of time, but my itinerary (as recommended by Irish Rail itself) allowed just 4 minutes to make the connection at Drumcondra for Sallins-and-Naas so obviously I missed it. In the event the next service was only 20 minutes later so all was well, except...

I have already mentioned that, due to the diurnal shortening of daylight hours prevalent at this time of the year, I had had to cycle in darkness for the first hour or so of my Foray: I also knew that I would arrive back home in darkness, so that every additional delay meant more darkness. And I just had to stop for F&C along the way.

I sat on a bench in Naas to eat, but could not muster much enthusiasm - the prospect of a hot shower weighed more heavily than greasy chips. So, after cramming in few more mouthfuls, I set off again and arrived back home at 21:15.  A long day out!

The morals?Always carry a spare inner tube and basic tools, be visible especially when it's dark, and don't give up and don't give in to your demons!

Collooney station

Spot the glaring error!