St John's Eve

Running a day late after a very busy day. It is St John's Eve - an ancient festival involving bonfires and fertility shenanigans later taken over by the Christians and remerging as the feast of St John the Baptist. It's a good day to visit holy wells, and, inspite of the dismal weather and poorly toe, I visited two. One in the morning and one in the evening. The first one was in Durrus, recently restored by Durrus Mens Group, of which I am an honorary member. I was a bit peeved as they sent me a photo of them at the well though they'd seen the weather forecast and assembled a day earlier - and not invited me!  The second was in a tiny graveyard near Ballydehob where a select crowd gathered to pay the rounds at the tomb of two brothers, both priests, who had done compassionate work during the Famine and saved many lives. Part of the rounds include a bullaun stone (water said to cure warts) which has a rather ghastly story attached about a bishop who was beheaded on this spot during Penal Times.  
In between we had lunch with the Robert and Finola in the Heron Gallery, then paid a visit somewhere else which I shall discuss at a later date (cliff hanger), and then went on to the Air India Disaster Memorial. This too occurred on St John's Eve at 8am and a memorial service is held on this tiny headland every year at exactly that time. No matter how many times you visit and how many times you see the photos, it never fails to deeply shock. A bit about it here.