I've had a bit of an adventure today. I arranged to see my friend Margaret at St Gobnait's in Ballyvourney where we intended to do a walk. This involved a fair drive  - inward and upward through some spectacular mountain scenery and very small roads.  The first time I met her at this venue I got hopelessly lost. Ballyvourney (Baile Bhuirne) is on the Gaeltacht area and all signposts are in Gaeilge. I thought I had arrived and rang her up to confirm our meeting point.
M: Where are you?
Me: Bally somewhere
M: Can you see a post office?
Me: no
M: can you see a pub?
Me: no
M: Are you sure you're in Ballyvourney
Me: no
I was in the wrong Bally - Ballingeary ( Béal Átha an Ghaorthaidh) to be precise. This time I arrive miraculously in the right Bally and we picnicked by a river in the drizzle. Then we did a very pleasant walk through dripping woodland to St Gobnait's.  This is a very ancient and holy site where St Gobnait, she of  the strange name and patron saint of bees (remember this for a future pub quiz), founded a nunnery. She is buried here and her grave is still much revered. We then walked on to a holy well connected with her. I was disappointed to see this had been tidied up for normally the tree and is covered in all sorts of strange offerings from baby's dummies to rosaries, photographs to statues. Some still remained but most had been taken down and laid on the wall. I took loads of blips but disappointingly they're a bit grey like the weather.

I then introduced her to the joys of trespass. Next to the holy well is a most extraordinary old farm, now ruinous but once it must have been very handsome and impressive.  The windows in particular are very beautiful Gothic confections, still covered with layers of different coloured paint. You can't get in as everything has collapsed but you can still get a feeling of its former grandeur. The outbuildings and farmyard still remain and are littered with old tractors. I brought himself here once and we had a good snoop. When I reported this back top Margaret she was horrified as it was still occupied by a very eccentric old boy, and his gun. He had lived there with his brothers and when they died, he refused to leave the family home. He has since passed on and everything is slowly being encroached by nature.

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