Midsummer Madness: come wind come weather

Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather
There's no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.


Midsummer Eve/St John's Eve - what better way to spend it than up a mountain in the fog looking for a well? 
Those crafty early Christians superimposed St John upon the Celtic festival of Midsummer, originally marked with jollity and bonfires  - today is still called Bonfire Day and is the only day we are technically allowed to have one. Anyway, come St John and today is a traditional day to visit a well, especially one dedicated to the man himself. I had a well in my sights, a challenging one but consulting the forecast it didn't look too bad.
We set off towards the Beara, all good until approaching our destination which seemed to be engulfed in fog. Being made of stern stuff we carried on, parked the car and commenced the long green track towards the mountain - which we couldnt actually see, just as well. Sheep and larks loomed out of the murk. The long green track ran out and we were on our own - the GPS leading upwards, still no sight of the mountain. The going was tough - bogs, ravines, a lot of skiddy bits and an enormous fence topped with barbed wire. I got over but himself couldn't so plan B - a bit more skirting round where we thought the mountain was until we found a more easily negotiable bit of fence. We hoiked ourselves over and clambered upwards. Distracted by the sighting of a very rare lesser butterwort - picture came out blurry -I nearly tumbled downwards. Finally white painted crosses appeared on the rocks - Halleluiah! First we had to negotiate a tiny quartz ridge with a very long drop! Finally we arrived at the well yes, not terrifically imposing but apparently it once attracted throngs who would come up here on this very day - barefoot and fasting - and camp on the mountain! How???  One elderly couple camped up here and next morning awoke to find themselves on a different mountain, I now fully understand.
 As we were up there, clouds and fog came and went and gave tantalising glimpses down into Castletownbere far below. We ate damp cheese and biscuits and never has a flask of coffee tasted so good. Then we had to make our way back down, both drenched from the mizzzle, the bog and the skidding on bums!


It's all go though, for now we are off to another well, invited by Durrus Men's Group who are hoping to make this a regular thing.
Catch up later.
Sing lustily!