I’m back in the south, the Republic. Time to reflect on landscape and read more Irish history.
The Puritan Oliver Cromwell, who the Irish do not look back on with fondness, is said to have told Catholics to go ‘To hell and Connaught’.
Connaught is in Ireland’s rugged, even harsh, west.
Connemara, within Connaught, is marvellous for walking, lousy for agriculture. The native Irish were expelled from the best farmlands further east. What was disaster for peasants is good for well clad and fed tourists.
For all its beauty, this was famine country.
How many stood on these coasts - this is the Ring of Dingle - looked out to the Atlantic and thought - there must be something better away from Ireland?
In fact, we know … during and immediately after the Great Famine - An Gorta Mór - from 1845 to 1849, a million emigrated (many to Canada) and a million more died of hunger and disease.
Now, despite a cruel post-2008 downturn, there is prosperity. Although Ireland’s population may still be less than before the Great Famine, business and sheep numbers are certainly up.
I come across a young farmer, Evan, and his dog Kate impressively displaying skills I’ve only seen on television.
Hello, my cute lamby friends. Enjoy yourselves because, in about nine months, you’ll be with mint sauce or jelly depending on preference.
On the other hand, this duo can look forward to a pleasant retirement.
Assisted by evocative music …
… at a few pubs, I wend my way south and east ...
... meet some lovely people ...
... meet some lovely people ...
… indulge my love of signs that aren’t mass produced …
… and stores that aren't chains or franchises.
Even in the rain, I’m having a good time.
