Fairy Forts and Hawthorn Trees

Fairy Forts and Hawthorn Trees

Tony’s stepfather, Denis is a real Irish character. On the night of the christening, he sang songs and told stories and yesterday took us on a tour around his farm and immediate area. We visited his old stone cottages which were 400 years old, now used as storage for feed and peat. He showed us a hawthorn tree growing on its own in a field and as legend has it, a hawthorn tree growing out on its own is where the fairies live and mustn’t be touched. They are in paddocks where farmers plough around them. If they fall down, the locals won’t touch them and people from outside the district have to come and take the timber away. He showed us the bog where peat is being cut out of the face, about 3 metres high, layered with increasingly darker layers until the best peat is at the bottom, blue-black. It is stacked in small piles to dry like little Japanese pagodas.

Then there was the fairy fort.  It is a perfect circular mound about 50 metres across  covered in hawthorn and hazelnut trees in fruit and stands about 8-10 metres tall. No one touches the timber or removes any of the stones that cover the site. The fairies live here and on the 31 October, Halloween, they come out and meet the human world. His stories are terrific, told in a great accent with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

Cemetery Sunday

An old Irish tradition is Cemetery Sunday and last weekend it was Mullingar’s turn to honour their dead buried there. Tony’s father is buried in Mullingar and since all of the family was together, we drove the 30 km north east. Police were directing the traffic around the nearby streets and roads were closed to traffic.  As we neared the cemetery, hundreds of people were walking along the roads towards their own family graves and by the time we arrived there were a few thousand people gathered. A service lasted for half an hour. Cemeteries around Ireland have a day each year when this celebration occurs. It was quite a sight.

Ballycumber

I’m in Athlone in the Midlands about 30 kms from Ballycumber having a coffee in Maccas – no wi-fi in Ballycumber.

The christening was great. Ezri was relaxed and happy through the whole ceremony which the priest ran like a game show. He asked questions about the rituals of baptism and Australia (Sharon) and Ireland (Denis) shot answers back. If the scoreboard was lit up, it’d show a tie.

Everyone came back to the house which is huge with beds for around 20, three formal rooms with two games rooms and a hall as big as a house. Tony’s relatives are great, great talkers and great story tellers and I had my first very early morning bedtime in a long time.

We took a drive back to Newgrange, the area of Neolithic burials around 5000 years old. It’s hard to believe we were visiting a place that was built before the pyramids. We’ve taken lots of drives around Ballycumber into and over the peat bogs, past and into numerous ruins and castles, had a few Guinness in the local. Driving the country lanes is interesting with the hedges to the very edges. Sharon has loosened the door pull on her side of the car gripping it so much and she seems to think that the brake is on her side of the floor and has rubbed a patch in the carpet under her feet. It really is fun driving here.

Denis, Tony’s stepfather, is taking us today for a tour around his farm to old cottages, peat cutting in the bogs and to see some fairy forts and single hawthorn trees where the people of the underworld still live. Should be fun.