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Johnny the Fisherman and the man from the Woods



A fresh breakfast in The Tree House Cafe started our journey out of Dingle and the Dingle Peninsula and on to The Ring of Kerry.  The drive was quite the sight.  We circumnavigated half of the Dingle Bay and stopped in the town of Glennbeigh and then to the beach of Rossveigh http://beachtrek.ie/rossbeigh-horse-trekking-gallery/.  My niece Abby's single request for this trip was to ride a horse on a beach in Ireland.  Her wish was fulfilled.  Beth, my sister-in-law Amy, Ethan, Sammy and Abby mounted horses and headed for the emerald hills and then down to the beach for a ninety-minute trek.  They received a first class tour from the very friendly gentleman who escorted them along the trails.  My dad, Mike and I helped the economy at a local establishment until our equestrians returned.  A quick lunch at the aforementioned pub and then onto Stoneyford Ireland and the Lawcus Farm http://www.lawcusfarmguesthouse.com/ where we would be staying for the next few days.  The drive was long and tiring as I'm still adjusting to the left-side of the road.  The last 25 minutes of the trip consisted of narrow, winding roads undulating in between green fields and hedgerows.  Farmhouses occasionally came into view.  A near miss by Luke Duke's Irish cousin driving a blue pick up with trailer in tow set my knuckles back to white.

We arrived at the farm and were greeted by the owners Ann-Marie and Mark.  Two friendly and welcoming hosts.  Mark took out some impressively hand-drawn maps of the area and directed us to a local pub.  His wife, reminiscent of a young Maureen O'Hara, said her hellos and headed off in her car.  (I hope you clicked on the link to the farm).  It's more impressive in person than the video shows.  The farm, grounds and decor are warm and comfortable.  More importantly, my wife was very, very happy.  After a quick un-pack and some more conversations with Mark, we heading to Stoneyford proper.  The only pub is called O'Grady's/Mazards.  The fifth generation proprietor Fred set us up in a room to eat.  They don't serve food at his place, only drink.  Down the street is an Indian restaurant that delivers orders to Fred's place.  So our dinner in this rural section of county Tipperary consisted of Chicken Tandori, pizza and rice.  The dishes were surprisingly good.  My dad again chatted up the locals and found another fisherman who enjoyed the conversation as much as he did.  The kids hung out in the garden area with some local teens and one of the owner's twin daughters.  Sam and she had a good chat comparing cultures and other issues important to them.  Abby and Sam played some pool too.  Ethan shared his time between us and his new found peers.  Fred the owner was a friendly and attentive host.  He shared many stories of his family and the history of this area.  We all slept soundly that night.  Except for Mike.  His bed was a bit concave...

We had 8:30 a.m. reservations in the sunroom dining area.  Ann-Marie worked the kitchen, took our orders (by memory) and served up a breakfast second to none.  She exchanged friendly barbs with my dad all the while.  We packed the van and headed to the Seven Castles ruins just up the road.  It's one of Ireland's best kept secrets and I believe them.  I parked the vehicle in a small lot and we all traversed a field dotted with..., well as my dad refers to it, "yesterday's lawn". We enjoyed the free tour of the 14th century monastic priory.

An hour ride to Cashel where we ate at Mikey Ryan's pub.  The outside of the building did a good job of camouflaging the sheik and modern restaurant.  A better than expected lunch preceded our mile walk up to the Rock of Cashel.  We toured the castle and grounds and sat and enjoyed the beautiful views of the area from atop.  We stopped in to Mikey's again for a drink and restroom break (disclaimer- I'm the designated driver so I'm hitting the H20 when the rest imbibe). 

I walked outside to sit in the rare Irish sun.  A white-haired man walked out from the pub to have a cigarette.  He asked if the nice man in the pub was my dad and I of course inquired why he was inquiring.  "He just bought us a pint".  So, then I said "yes, he's my father".   The white-haired man's name was John Mcgrath, or as he stated initially, Johnny the Fisherman.  He had a thick brogue and by my estimate four to five whiskeys.  He leaned in close and promised a special piece of advice that not many American's are privy.  He told me to take the family up the road to a place near New Inn and Clonmel called St. Patrick's Well.  It is where the distillers of Jameson drew the water for their first bottle.  He told me it was a magical place and to go there with a need or wish in mind.  So of course we went.  It could be a bust or a very interesting visit.  It was the latter.  The well is an ancient well worshiped by pagans for its obvious practical benefits and the mystical.  The instant our van parked we were met by an elderly, short gentleman with bright eyes and smile.  His name was Eddie Flannery.  He spoke of the healing properties of the water and had us take our shoes and socks off so we could sit on the culvert walls and submerge our feet in the 50 degree running water.  He directed us to first stand in the shallow stream.  He promised it would help ease the sting.  It did.  We filled our water bottles and drank from the clear, cold spring.  Instantly my back pain ceased.  I realized shortly after that it was probably because my legs were in such shock that my body forgot about my back 😆

We drove 45 minutes to Kilkenny for a decent dinner accompanied by better live entertainment.  Drinks and conversation out on the patio and now off to bed. 

A closing note.  We've been blessed with six days of sunshine.  Abby, Ethan and Samantha attribute the great weather to their Nana.  I do not disagree.  When do you get six consecutive days of great weather in Ireland?  Thank you Nana.
Abby on Rossveigh Beach















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