Ireland... A Touch of the Green Stuff

We arrive somewhere known as the Midlands in Ireland. Close by is a massive lake called Lough Sheelin, in County Cavan, noted for its brown trout. It also has some haunting death stories. In the last twenty years there have been multiple drownings and suicides, and earlier, a mass murder. Our old friend welcomes us to his unusual home, previously a school. We hurtle down empty country lanes and immaculate motorways, and it’s clear that getting around this island is quite easy. Every now and again, Colin, our host, slams the brakes on as we drive through small villages and we do another graveyard tour. Taphophiles unite.

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The first one is an overgrown, small cemetery with trees growing through the derelict church. The next old church we check out is up for sale, including about twenty graves. My host reminds me of one of the Whinging Pome Random Rules: “Never pass an Irish pub, always go in.” It’s going to be a long week. We do get into a few. It is not Kilkenny beer country, but there is plenty of Guinness and IPA.