A Walk by Lake Arrow

Starting out from the hotel gate

One of the reasons I went home to Ireland this summer was because I was invited to a cousin's son's wedding.  I had met the groom only once, when he was about twelve. His parents were living in Paris at that time and we were living in Stuttgart, a few hours away, and one of the Meddling Aunts in Ireland decided we should use the opportunity to get to know each other better. We did, and  became good friends.  Thank you, Meddling Aunt, now deceased.  

A bend in the road. Possible retirement bolt hole?

 I have grown weary of missing family events --- weddings, births and funerals --- so off I went, crossing my fingers that the world here would not cave in in my absence. To my surprise and delight, life went on just fine            without me. Being indispensable can be a heavy burden!  

Flowers by a cottage door.

The wedding was in Co. Sligo, in the west of Ireland. We went a few days before, and stayed a day after the wedding. It was in a rural area where there were many beautiful trails and boreens for hiking and walking. I took full advantage, not being much of a party animal and not knowing too many of the other guests. I can make small talk and hang about in hotel lounges only for so long before I start looking, in desperation, for an escape route. 

Flowers in a ditch along the way...

One afternoon I escaped for a walk by Lough Arrow. After I'd  walked a mile or two, my cousin and her daughter caught up with me in their car. 

They parked it at the top of a very steep boreen that wound its way down, at a murderously steep angle, to the shores of the lake. Not being, either one of them, athletically inclined, they would have driven down, but the car just wouldn't fit. We stopped in to a little chapel nearby, strategically placed so one could bolster one's courage with prayers before attacking the slope!

Thus fortified, we paused to admire the view before heading downwards.

                 It's steeper than our smiles would lead you to believe! I still have the scars on my toe...

                                                    But it was a beautiful day, a beautiful place....

And I've got nine other toes....

We passed some farmers in a field busily gathering in silage, feed for their animals for the winter. All over the country farmers were scrambling to get it done.

Eventually we were down to shore level and came to this peaceful scene.

By now M and C had had their fill of exercise and fresh air. I wanted to continue on by the lakeside, especially since I knew there was a ruin of an old monastery further on.With my penchant for exploring what my mother used to call "old piles of rocks," giving up now was not an option.

Irish sheepie (for you, Anna!)

Since I stayed up late with the rest of the country watching the election results, I have to catch up on my sleep, but I'll be back tomorrow to take you to see some piles of rocks....