Yesterday's task was to climb Croagh Patrick - the mountain you can see from our accommodation in Murrisk.
Everything started well and we passed St Patrick, who reputedly climbed the mountain and prayed there for 40 days and 40 nights. I have doubts about this story, as there's no way he could have carried 40 days' worth of food to the top without a team of sherpas. If you ask me, St Patrick here looks rather similar to St Nicholas. I'm sure there's a factory somewhere that churns out thousands of saints that are identical and they just have a different name plaque slapped on them depending on what's required.
Anyway, Hay was suffering and wanted to give up at about 3/4 of the way up, but I persuaded her to continue. Here's a view from half way up.
We were literally within a hundred yards or so of the top and my vertigo kicked in on the rock-strewn 41 degree slope. I thought I'd conquered that decades ago, but no - up there you feel very exposed and I was about to freeze in a panic. Discretion was the better part of valour and we started our decent. Several coffin-dodgers passed me and I felt so ashamed, but when vertigo gets you there's nothing you can do.
Didn't expect to see a golf putting green half way up. I've since learned it's a helipad.
In this shot you can see Mordor in the distance.
And in this one is the Plain of Rohan.
Today is wall-to-wall rain, so we're going to have to seek out something cultural and indoors.
3 comments:
Isn't it odd how "saints" always need money.. you'd think an omnipotent God would be better at handling cash?
It's Brexit - affects us all.
Ah' the point is that he St. Paddy came from the UK
and the statue is probably about as far as he went.
That is if ever existed anyway for it could just be Ancient British propaganda and now that you have Brexit you can repatriate him :-)
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