Get the Frack out of Ireland

We finished cleaning the townhouse (a tough job when two cats and a dog live there and the landlady has not been told of said dog and cats by the property manager--something I didn't know) then hit the road, driving west from Belfast to Enniskillen, the last large town in the north before crossing into the south. We went for a short walk around Castle Coole then continued west.

In both the north and the south, there were many roadside signs protesting fracking and one streetside demonstration. The gist of the signs is you can have farming or fracking, but not both. It'll be interesting to see who holds the power over here. My guess is people will not be as eager to sell their land rights to energy companies as landowners in America because farming is more highly paid here.

We drove through Sligo, which is having a major festival honoring native son William Butler Yeats, one of my favorite poets. Here's a mural in Sligo of the handsome devil:

I could have spent an entire week there, but we wanted to get to our lodgings by dinner and it was already late. So on to Castlebaldwin, where we had an incredible four-course meal followed by a lovely walk down to Arrow Lake, on the way discovering Ballindoon Abbey, built in the 1500s and abandoned for heaven knows how long. It is absolutely gorgeous. Walking around Ireland is like that--incredible sights and sites around every bend.
The abbey:


Here's what gets me about Ireland. When Europe sank into the Dark Ages, it was Irish monks and priests who went forth and kept alight the flame of Christianity--establishing monasteries and building churches throughout Europe. Isn't it ironic, then, that this same small island has hosted centuries of animosity between the Church of England (or Church of Ireland), the Presbyterians, and the Catholics, each with heavy grievances against the other.

View from Cromleagh Lodge:

Me on my hols with the hotel dog: