Dublin: Tara Hill

So now we are being told that speculators’ gold
Brings this road by Rath Lugh’s ancient Rath
And they did not care what was lying there
Thirty-eight sacred sights.

In a stone-lined bed a man lay dead,
Now moved – it’s an aweful crime.
Ye should have let him stay in the ground where he lay
At peace since the dawn of time.

More relics of our past are on the cold clay cast
Now exposed to the wind and rain
And thrown in a bin and the hole filled in
Are the stones of Roestown souterrain.

On a snow white mare with her platinum hair
She rides her fine horse past Rath Lugh
Sobbing she cries from jet black eyes
Fall tears from the goddess Eriu

"Do you not understand this is sacred land
And ye destroyed it at your peril"
And in a misty smoke thus she spoke
This green cloaked, fair skinned girl

"Now I must go but young blood it may flow
Because of this ghastly deed"
And this ground may be wet and a valey of death
At my Gabhra river valley in Meath.

-Kyrie Murray, Tara Hill

Having spent 5 nights with the Tara Hill protestors, I really have the feeling I saw the business end of Irish history. I learned things there that I could nowhere else, and I wish I could have done more in return. But it’s time to move on…

With my friends gone home now and the addictive company of the German girls no longer here, I am actually alone now for the first time. In a sense though, I suppose that’s a good thing. The Belgian crew were special individuals, but… not always my kind of travel company. At certain times I really had to clench my teeth not to let an argument overheat, and I think I would have lost my patience before long. I guess that makes me antisocial, or, as I like to believe, um special. When I have my mind set on something and want to make it work, I tend to give it my whole effort. When others do not or disagree and get it their way, I need to swallow that down, and it’s… difficult. Maybe having a group with similar mindset would suit me better, I have no problems adjusting to other people’s plans but goals need to be set and reached unless circumstances change. I’m a little anal about that.

Anyhow,  I decided to go west, mainly because there is little other choice to go, and because I am told it is quite beautiful along the west coast. So off I go, ill prepared and scared shitless.

Thanks to the girls I had a hot shower and actual bed tonight, in the youth hostel in Dublin after they were invited elsewhere. It cost me no more than €10 and I am well rested and ready to go. Hell, I even had a decent breakfast.

 

Sitting here, it strikes me how difficult it is to get my thoughts lined up to write them down. Back at home there’s plenty of time to rethink matters and milk any lessons for the future from them, but being constantly bombarded with impressions and rolling from one situation right into the next, I have no time to analyze. I bought a booklet to write down my immediate thoughts, maybe that will help. I got it at Trinity College, and for this once I went and bought something quite special. I may get a picture of it if I get around to it. I figured, if it’s going to log something worth while, it might as well look it.

For now, the logging of facts will do. Something to retrace my steps and try and reach a conclusion.
So here I go. Wish me luck, I will definitely need it.

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