White Wash

What a day! Just crawled in, smelly, covered in scratches and mozzie bites, soggy feet, wild hair, filthy clothes and absolutely wrecked! What can I have been up to you wonder. Well hunting of course!

The weather being lovely I decided to tackle the last two wells on the Mizen, both likely to be a little challenging. Himself decided to come too and armed with the GPS we headed for Dunlough an incredibly wild and scenic spot renowned for the seriously bungled attempt at smuggling a vast amount of cocaine into the country a few years back. There was a nice clean pool of water I had always assumed was the well but further research suggested the real thing was in a far more obscure and dangerous location - down a cliff. Check out the b&w extra - you see that little gate, can you just make out the drop? Himself could not look and left me to it. The well was said to cure insanity - only the insane would venture down there he muttered! It was quite interesting (!) but the grass was strong and bouncy. I think I found the well, clinging onto the side of the cliff, a steady trickle of water. Hard to imagine people flocking here though, lunatics or not.

We then continued, after lunching in the wonderfully placed cafe, to 3 Castle - another astonishing site: a huge castle nestling amongst the hills, a massive lake in front of it. Himself did some drawing and I sat by the lake listening to the ravens honking, the choughs chattering, the fish plopping and across the water someone was playing an accordion.

There was another well on the agenda - one I knew would be tricky but we ventured along a tiny newly tarmacked road up and up and up. The road ran out but there was a house. I knocked - yer man was watching the football and Kerry were winning (bad), but he was full of advice and pointed up the mountain way above and made me look for two large stones - just below that! His sisters arrived and more chat was made - it was a grand evening for this kind of thing apparently and we were encouraged to continue - providing I had wellies. I did. We went off, leaving him to hurtle down the track having just spied his cattle had escaped their field.
OMG. What a mission. The grass was shoulder high, the bog was knee high, the gorse was fierce, the views were mighty and it took blooming hours to find, the GPS finally giving up the ghost. But we did find it! The teeniest pool of water, nestling amongst all the bog grass - an Infant of Prague and a cup in attendance. Dedicated to St Brendan apparently. Another place it was very hard to imagine the faithful flocking to but I think they did. Himself took a photo, the odd halo effect is either my fierce holiness, St Brendan or something very messy on my lens.

Well done to my companion for putting up with me and for his perseverance  and good humour. Can you spot him disappearing in the grasses in one extra?

The ice cream shop was still open in Goleen as we went through and we had large ones.

And I think it's my blip birthday - 6 years!!  What can I say! But how amazing that this year we have been privileged to receive visitors all the way from Australia and New Zealand making the trek down to West Cork, all thanks to Blip! It remains a very special site.Thank you to everyone who still swings by.

The celebratory pic is one of my favourite little buildings, newly whitewashed and suitable for Derelict Sunday too. Thanks to Admirer for hosting during August.

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