Today we take a trip 5000 years back in time, or close at least.

We went primarily to a place called Newgrange in county Meath, about an hours drive (or in our case) bus ride) from Dublin city center. To do this we had to wake up much earlier than usual so as to walk to the Tourist info place (I think I’ve already mentioned that it is housed in the 18th century St. Andrew’s Cathedral in the center of town), have a bite for breakfast, and catch the 9:45 bus departing for two counties new to us, namely: Meath and Louth.

I think Newgrange is the most impressive thing I’ve seen so far. Here is an excerpt from one of the postcards I picked up that details the gist of this ancient site:

NEWGRANGE, CO. MEATH:
Along the north bank of the River Boyne is the remarkable pre-Christian cemetery Brugh na Boinne, legendary burial place of the kings. It is a series of Neolithic tumuli which the three principal mounds are at Knowth, Newgrange, and Dowth about 2 kilometres from one another. The Newgrange tumulus has a passageway leading to a central chamber with side recesses for burials. During the winter solstice, the rays of the sun reach the central chamber.

The narrow (not to be attempted if you are claustrophobic) tunnel to the center is built on an ascent, although you don’t realize it until you descend, and it’s suddenly noticeable. This means that your feet end up on the same plane that your head starts out when you begin up the access path. Hence, the box built above the doorframe to let in light, that one time a year, ends up at the perfect angle when you are inside. It’s truly amazing to think how knowledgeable these people must have been to accomplish the alignment. And to realize that man hasn’t come as far as he thinks….

I don’t think that I can explain how intense a feeling it is to know that you are laying eyes on something that has not been changed AT ALL since it was erected 5000 years ago. This place lay undiscovered, enshrouded in a coverlet of trees, shrubbery and grass until the 1600’s when a local ruler wanted to build a new castle, and tried to quarry from they area. Fortunately they began digging directly in front of the entrance stone, and ceased. They brought in an archaeologist, and all he could say was that it was some sacred Celtic place. So there it lay untouched and dormant completely open to the public on a farmers land until the 1960’s when it was stumbled upon once more and its importance as a heritage sight was recognized. It gained protection just in time to stop the graffiti that had begun to present itself by the hands of irritatingly shallow people. As the postcard notes, the coolest thing is the design that allows the sun into the room for 15 minutes of the five days surrounding the winter solstice. When you tour, they do a re-enactment of this effect. Hence the standing in complete, and utter darkness. Serious darkness, with 200, 000 tons of stone weighing on your imagination. Did I mention that the stones are held together in this structure without mortar by the pressure of their own weight? Yeah. Looking at postcard photos of the real thing (true sunlight) tells me that the yellow light bulb just doesn’t do the actual process justice. And the tour guide says so too :)

The stone blockading the entrance to the stone slab door is decorated by a carved spiral design that has been accounted as celestial maps to early Irish road maps…. No one really knows. There is little known about any of the meanings of the carvings found here, but it is noteworthy that the spiral pattern is universal.

If you’d like to see shots of it before we get our pics up, check out: http://www.knowth.com/newgrange.htm
It has a pretty neat visual re-enactment of the winter solstice light entering the passageway to the central chamber of the tomb.

It was as forceful and momentous as I expected it to be. I felt small. The whole time I had to remind myself that the stones surrounding us were not made from styrofoam spray-painted grey, like some Hollywood replica.

I said “primarily” about this tour because the trip began with the Neolithic burial mounds, but also just so happened to include a side trip to the picturesque Slane village, in county Louth, and another monastic sight called Monasterboice. The town we only saw briefly because the bulk of our hour stop over was taken in eating a filling carvery lunch in a place called the Conyngham Arms Hotel. That’s right, my (via maternal grandparents) family moniker. I think I got the old spelling right. Anyhow, Cunningham now. The tour guide/bus driver (Tony, who was quite a humorous chap, not to mention saturatingly knowledgeable) explained on the drive through the surrounding lands towards Slane Village, that the 12th Earl of Conyngham (Cunningham, I’m not sure which spelling he uses…) currently inhabits Slane Castle (which we did not get a chance to see, sadly) and to finance the restoration (since it was mostly destroyed by fire in 1991) Lord Henry Mountcharles, aka the 12th Earl of Conyngham, has been staging huge open-air rock concerts on the 22 acre grounds in front of the castle annually. These had been quashed for a while by complaining villagers (funny to call them villagers still) (and sorry to be using so many parenthesis, I just seem to be in a mood for them today) for the noise pollution they cause. But they are alive and well due to the commerce they earn. Last year U2 played there twice, the second concert ensuing by special permission granted to Irish mega-bands :) It seems probable that General Henry Conyngham bought the Slane Estate from the Williamite government (which was established by those who fought under William of Orange, a Dutch prince, in the Battle of the Boyne, which took place in 1690 near the river Boyne because there were two claimants for the English throne – James, a Scottish Catholic, and William, a Dutch Protestant married to James’ sister. So, it NATURALLY took place in IRELAND???…. William winning and taking over the governance of Ireland until the rebellion of 1789---didn’t ask for all that info, did ‘cha?) in 1701. The family have been in continuous occupation of the Estate since that date.

Tosh, if you want to see more history on the “family castle” ;) check out: http://www.slanecastle.ie/history.htm

Monasterboice was another of the billions (seemingly) of monastic sights scattered around Ireland. I learned today that part of the reason for their multitude, aside form the obvious religious devotion of the nation, was that under this regime monastic land was protected from forfeiture by anyone but the king. So landed families would “donate” properties to various sites and thereby keep it in the family, and protected as though it were consecrated land.

The Monastery ruin, founded by a Saint Buite, (who died in 521 AD, if that tells you who old the settlement is…) contains three of Irelands most stunning examples of “high Crosses.” These High Crosses are noted as being one of Irelands biggest contribution to “Western European Art of the middle ages” (that’s a duzy). At least that’s the reason I like to look at them…. These Crosses are made of sandstone and date to around the 9th century. One of them, the Cross of Muiredach, gets its name from an inscription at the base of the west face, saying that it was erected by an abbot named Muiredach. The cross is around 5.2 metres high whatever that means….I have no idea, I would have said about 8 feet. It was interesting that the art depicted a mix of traditional Celtic, Christian, and Byzantine motifs on the crosses. For instance, in a representation of the crucifixion, Jesus feet are shown tied to the cross rather than pierced, clearly a Byzantine reflection.

The site also has yet another a round tower (I think that makes three for us this trip), which is was built in the 9th century, and destroyed by fire in the 10th. It was once 130 feet tall and capped by a cornice. Now it stands broken of at the top looking like a giant got hungry and snapped the tip (always the best part) off, so that it only stands 110 feet. I thought it was one of the less protective looking towers, as the door only stood about 6 feet up the wall instead of the typical 15 to 25. This may be due to the amount of earth that has accumulated at the base over the centuries….just a thought.

Anyhow, that’s enough archaeological history for today :)

Here is how big Soccer is over here:

Yesterday, as Matt and I walked out from our apartment, we passed two big Russian (by the sound of the language they were fake-crowd-in-the background cheering in) guys, teaching a little boy (I’m guessing they were father, son and holy, um, I mean uncle) how to kick around an empty plastic bottle like it was a ball, aiming in-between the uncle’s feet for the goal. The kid might have been edging up on three, and loved it. He was guttural giggling, as only little-kid’s in extreme fits of joy can. As Matt and I continued by, watching and smiling, he looked at us like he wanted to kick the bottle-ball to us, when he realized that he didn’t know us. But that didn’t matter too much to him. He looked up grinning, and says “Ahh-looo” in a close approximation if hello. Matt and I chimed hello back to him, with his guardians, still kicking the bottle around, beaming proudly towards him. Adorable, I tell ya.

But back to the “how into soccer this place is”. As we walked here today, we passed a second hand store I window-shop at regularly. (There is a gang of senior citizen ladies that blitz through the string of second hand shops on our street buying up anything half way decent that will fit anyone they know, or may have seen passing them on the street more than once, that can throw elbow, and jostle through the shops like no bodies business. Entertainingly, afterwards they can be spied sitting on the steps of an apartment building---aka: “purpose built flat”—comparing and swapping their spoils.) So, inside the store, I glimpse a TV, playing the match for today. No body is in there but the little old ladies that work there, and their shopping counterparts, but they MUST have the game on. And our favourite Indian restaurant, Surma, has a new addition (for the world cup only) of a silver 30” plasma screen dominating the elegant dinning room so that the lunch crowd (and staff, of course) can pretend to live normally, without having to sacrifice watching the match. Its insanity I tell you! Anyone can strike up a conversation with anyone and be able to talk for hours as long as its soccer-oriented banter. And here we are striving resolutely to keep up with it all, and we slept through the USA match this morning.

I guess we still gotta be us….