Carrick-a- Rede and Breen Wood: Of fishermen and fairies

    If yesterday was an American kind of day, today was a very Irish kind of day, insofar as we saw (again!) some of the amazing beauty and wonder of this part of the world- Carrick-a-Rede and, Breen Oakwood, which translates from the Gaelic into "Fairy Palace." 

    First, Carrick-a-Rede.

    Carrick-a-Rede means "rock in the road."  The rock it's referring to is the massive rock to the right in the photo.  The road is the "road" salmon used to swim in to shore.  Fishmen, dating back to the 1700's, built a rope bridge about 80 feet above the rocks and sea below every spring between the mainland and Carrick-a Rede.  They used it to cross over to catch the salmon and then bring them back.  Now it's primarily a tourist site and the bridge is built much safer and stronger.  That's Michael crossing over in the photo.

   

 It probably doesn't look too intimidating or dangerous in the photo, and it really isn't anymore- though if you have a fear of heights you wouldn't like it.  But you have to imagine how it would have been back in the 1700's- a simple rope bridge, looking down at the view in the photo on the right, with only one rope for your hand to hold onto, while you hauled across a sack full of salmon with the other hand.  

    The life of a fisherman has never been easy.

Here is a photo of me on the path leading down to Carrick-a-Rede.  What's that behind me, you ask?

 Excellent question!  The landmass behind me (off in the distance, not immediately behind me) is Rathlin Island.  Remember good old Finn MacCool, who created the Giant's Causeway, and the Scottish giant Benandonner, who tore it apart when he fled Finn in fear?  Legend has it that Rathlin Island was formed by a part of the causeway that Benandonner ripped up and flung far into the sea to keep Finn from following him back to Scotland.

    Speaking of Scotland, what's that even farther back in the distance?  Yep, that's the Scottish mainland itself.  We could see it clear as day today.  Just amazing.  So, does taking a picture of it from afar fulfill my long held dream of going to Scotland?  

Not so much.

    We debated actually hopping on the Ferry to Scotland, which is a shortish trip, for a day. But realistically, it would have used up all our travel money (it's a quick trip, not a cheap one) and what can you see of a whole country in a day?

    Which incidentally brings up something I've been thinking about extended travel- I'm pretty sure it could be analyzed and used as a personality test.  We are here for a month, and it doesn't seem like nearly long enough.  I want to make friends and pick a favorite bar and restaurant and develop a natural life rhythm.  I want to know how to get places without looking at the map and understand the money system and not cringe away from the side of the road because it feels so close.  In short, I want to put down roots.  A day trip to Scotland? What could you possibly learn in such a short time?  It's not even worth it.  

Personality type: nester.  

    Other people I know (cough, cough) love to whiz from place to place, seeing the gorgeous sites, learning on the go, thriving on the changing scenery and endless variety of life.  A day trip to Scotland?  Hell, yes!

Personality type: roamer.

    So as far as Scotland goes, this nester is going on faith that someday we'll swap to the land of Benandonner itself.

    We were able to gain a wee bit of insight into the Scots from a helpful National Trust guide working at Carrick-a Rede.  He explained to us, when we asked him about a building built into the cliff below us, that it was the remnant of a mining operation.  Apparently the Scots liked the Irish rock better than their own rock, so they had it all mined here and shipped over there to pave the streets of Edinburgh. "I can't imagine why they would do such a thing, when they've got their own rocks over there.  Just like the Scots."

   He also explained how the ancient Irish used the island to the left, "Sheep's Island."  Apparently, instead of keeping their sheep on the mainland, they kept them all on that island.  That way, when the Vikings (ahhh, I think he said Vikings....) came over, instead of landing on the mainland and pillaging and looting, they just took the sheep and went home.  "So it was a sort of peace offering," he said.   "Or a McDonald's.  We invented fast food, ye know!")

    After our Carrick-a-Rede adventure, we made our way to Breen Oakwood.  Despite being a National Forest, the wood was barely marked, so it took us a couple of tries to find it, but finally, I noticed a sign for the forest as we whizzed past.  We turned around and sure enough, there it was.  Relief!  We were afraid we'd have to disappoint Tess and Kai. We confirmed the sign marked the wood, and bumped up the dirt road.  

    To an old, beat up building with no one around and a road barred by a gate.

Could this be the path to the land of the fair folk, where the veil between the worlds was thin and the fair kind lived among we mortals?

After some scrambling to figure out if we were allowed to cross the gate, we climbed over, wandered down the path and discovered....

this gate.

Ummmmm, could this be the path to the land of the fair folk, where the veil between the worlds was thin and the fair kind lived among we mortals?

    We walked along a neatly mowed path surrounded by trees and wildflowers- stunning.  And finally, came to....

This gate.

Jeez.  Was the veil going to thin, or what?

    Truthfully, though, it was a lovely walk through the gates, like gaining entry to ever deepening levels of mystery.  

And through that last gate indeed was Breen Oakwood, or "Fairy Palace" Oakwood.

Breen is one of the last surviving old wood forests in Ireland.  It's survived for over 2000 yrs, and in fact has a 2000 year tree in it, though we couldn't find it.  The forest is a mix of oak, holly, hazel, ash, rowan, willow...all woods associated for thousands of years with magic and legend and folk tale.  I've never seen anything like it.

    Remember, in the ancient Irish tales, fairies were not sparkly, friendly creatures who delighted in helping humans.  The fair folk were mysterious beings who, while beautiful (and human sized), had their own understanding of the world and their own ethic that did not revolve around human need or desire.  They were to be feared and respected.  The wood probably survived instead of being clear cut along with the rest because the ancient Irish truly believed it belonged to the fairies and was therefore not to be touched.  And this wood was not some type of amusement park or display set up by the Forest Service.  The magic it held was all it's own.

I have to admit that Kai and Tess and I spent the walk constructing in our imaginations a fairy village more in keeping with the modern American understanding of fairies, and I'll post that in a separate post for fairy lovers and their parents.  But the wood was just......well, magical.

And then there is the photo to the left. I know, I know. It looks like one of those cheesy pencil art posters you'd get in the mall, titled "Enchanted Glen" or something.  But I swear to you, this is a real photo, taken with my regular camera, using a regular lens and regular setting, and it's completely untouched.  

Magic abounds.

Eventually, we returned to the real world, singing songs of thanks into buttercups as parting gifts for the fairies.

And to close the day, we walked across the field and saw our very first standing stone in Ireland, this one dating back to the Bronze age.  

Tess almost immediately leaned against the stone and pressed her face against it. She explained to her rather surprised parents that she was praying.  I had called it a sacred stone, but other than that, there were no prompts that such a thing might be appropriate. Could she tell she was on holy ground?  Children are supposed to be more sensitive.

Of course, a few seconds later she leaned back in exasperation and said she wished the cars would go away since they were making it too hard to hear while she prayed.

I'll leave it to you.

In parting, I'll say that in all that time in the fairy wood and at the stone, we never saw another person.