Inspired by a 30 second ad for a program called Walking the Nile and feeling and little jealous that I hadnt thought of that idea myself I decided to do my own version yesterday. My mission was explore the banks of the tiny stream that passes close to my house and continues south where it connects with the canal in Bridgetown. This canal being part of the major land reclamation project that drained Ballyteigue back in the late 1840s. Actually, my aim was two fold, when I woke up this morning my first thought was to find the earliest point closest to my house where I could put my canoe in the water and make the journey to Ballyteigue and the Cull bank. An outing for another day but this gave birth to the idea of walking the river in the same vein of Walking the Nile and an equally ambitious task I figured. As with every journey being well equipped is essential and for this journey I would need; one big schtick and a pair of wellies. I also brought my No.77 Discovery Series 1:50,000 Ordinance Survey map, which you will find any bookshop. Feeling a little hazy due to a few pints of Guinness the previous night, but with a full durty Irish breakfast on board I entered the river at the bridge in Harpoonstown near my house. Everyone passes over a bridge but how many times do you pass under the bridge and see the world beneath? It actually feels like stepping into another world, a place that is rarely visited. There is something mystical about Ireland, and stepping under an old bridge always enhances that feeling. Seeing the green moss and ferns growing on the old stone work of the bridge, untouched,undisturbed by man for many years. Memories flooded back of the time when I would come down here with my brothers to check our fish traps we had set the previous day, using small glass jars. Anything caught was a cause for excitement, mainly small Eels and tiny Cat fish. The fish were always released once we were finished playing with them, which might have included throwing them in the air and catching them again. Well, we were boys.. I continued on along the stream dodging the deep welly filling sections that forced me to the bank. The day was bright, windy and fresh but no rain. All the fields being that deep green distinct to Ireland. On the river hardly a breeze could be felt but up on the bank a stiff breeze was gusting. As I walked I left civilisation behind, (civilisation in Harpoonstown basically amounting to the bridge and the road, and the odd house) All around were flighty birds, winter fields and the crisp breeze. Ah yeah, Gods country, be gob I said to myself assuming a more agricultural demeanor as I swung me stick, slopped along in my wellies, and slipped into another world. A River is like a big liquidy conveyor belt conveying all manner of things; good and bad downstream should they come in contact with it, but I was surprised to see hardly a trace of litter the whole length of my walk apart for the odd stray fertilizer bag, the litter bugging days a thing of the past thank God. We spend our lives on paths and roads, and everywhere is on the way to somewhere else, but taking a walk across countryside you discover a new way of looking at your area. You think you know your area but actually unless you walk the land the only thing you actually know is the road that cuts through a small part of the land and everything in between might as well not exist. Some of the city dwellers reading this are probably saying Wow, thats amazing to be able to do that, and some of the farmers are saying, Fecking gobshite, sure we do it everyday! I did my fair share of rambling the land as a boy with my brothers, we never went too far though, there was always enough to keep us entertained within a short distance. But the things I encountered today within 4km from my house along the river I scarcely knew existed. A glimpse back in time, literally thousands of years of history on display and not accessible by road. Before I go into anymore detail.. Im not even sure of the legalities of traipsing the land and walking over other peoples property nor do I care much for finding out as I believe every man has the right to freely walk across the land providing he does so with respect. Respect for both the environment and for the fences, barriers and crops the owner may have put in place. I only mention it here as the photos that accompany this piece were inevitably taken on OPP - other peoples property.. so I want to say to these people in case I get some angry comments back that I walked the earth that you are temporary custodians of and I did so with respect- thank you. So back to the story.. I walked on and in places not a house nor chimney pot could I see in the distance, just green fields and always accompanied by the hypnotic soothing sound of water dancing on rocks as it happily made its way southwards and eventually to the sea. There were plenty of birds fluttering about searching for slim winter pickings. The banks of the river varied widely depending on the taste or style of the farmer, some banks were grazed right to the edge leaving no chance of scrub developing on the banks that could support wildlife, and some banks were fenced maybe one meter from the edge and when this was in place wildness existed and the bank flourished. Flourished with nothing in particular at this time of the year that may be of interest to the average observer but that provided plenty of places to encourage plants and animals to frequent. My next encounter with civilisation was the Mayglass road and the bridge that spanned the small river. One curious feature I came across down stream was a wall constructed in the river with some other old stone work on the bank. This point was no where near any settlement or structure that was obvious. The purpose of which was clearly to block or divert the river, but now it was overcome or opened up and the water reclaimed its natural course. After some thought I presumed that this point served a very important purpose years ago and I believe this to be the diversion weir that was put in place to direct water through the stream that fed the mill race and powered to the Old Mill in Bridgetown. I could be wrong but I have always wondered why the water comes no where near the mill race reservoir anymore and why the old duck pond dried up upstream of that too. I took a visit to the old mill a couple of years ago a fascinating place, so I will stick a few photos in here but I didnt visit it on this occasion and I believe the wheel to be removed now and not such a safe place to poke around. I continued on and at length I came up out of the river and the remnants of an ancient Ring Fort unexpectedly came into view. Ráths as they are also called in Ireland are fairly common, there are a couple in the area and I visited them many years ago but this one I had never seen before, nor knew of its existence, it was quite a big one and it was very exciting to randomly come across it. These structures consist of a circular ditch and mound in the centre, around which would have been surrounded by a defensive barrier of upright logs. Inside would have been a few small homesteads. The chronology of Ráth building in Ireland is the subject of much debate, some say that they are of Iron age origin and others say the are of more recent early medieval origin. I think the truth lies somewhere in between or maybe even earlier for that matter. Most Ráths have not been fully excavated so a complete story can not be formed but it is possible that earlier structures do exist and these structures may have been in use throughout history and modified over the years. A Ráth these day is usually identifiable as group of trees and over growth in the middle of a field, left untouched. These have been allowed to grow wild, obviously these structures are supposed to be protected under law; one such Ráth by Ráthronan being completely bulldozed to the ground in 1994. Evidently the law not being such a deterrent. However, it wasnt the law that has protected these structures over the years. They remain protected by something much stronger than the feeble laws of the mortal. They are protected by Faery curses and superstition. Damaging a Ráth is sure to bring bad luck, and more, to anyone who upsets the Faeries. It was clear that this particular forth I had come across was rarely visited, but I managed to get within the circle and sit down for a few moments, making sure to tell the Faeries- I come in peace. I moved on up the river, and noticed all the river features our old Geography teacher Frankie Lonergan used to tell us excitedly about. In the slow level sections the river meandered its course and on display was the makings of an early ox bow lake.. perhaps still a few hundred years off yet! I pushed on further along the river and passed through a small planted groove of pine trees, the soft matting of pine needles under my feet and the smell of pine waking the senses. In time the upper turrets and watch tower of Mulrankin Castle came into view over the tree tops. Mulrankin Castle was built by the Norman family Le Brun, later anglosied to Brown, and dates back to the late 12th century after the Norman landings of 1169 in Bannow Bay. This is one of the very early castles built following the Norman invasion of Ireland on request by former King Leinster Diarmait Mac Murchadha to restore him to the throne in Ireland and it stands still as a largely intact structure. Actually this castle was quite familiar to me as it was my chosen topic for a 4th class assignment we were given on local history many moons ago. The next obstacle which I came across was a more modern structure, another conveyor belt of sorts; the train tracks from the Rosslare to Waterford line that passes through the small village of Bridgetown. I passed through the small channel under the railway tracks the water flowing very fast through the channel and continued on for a short distance until at once I reached the canal east of Bridgetown. A small canal by all accounts and more of a widened drainage ditch than a canal at this point, but certainly deep enough to top the wellies. I paid a quick visit to the new sewage treatment plant that serves Bridgetown and considered my next move. I was now hungry and wanted to eat something, but feeling a little under dressed to walk into the village in yellow wellies and me schtick I decided against it. I decided I would walk back up the canal towards Mayglass in a north easterly direction. At this stage of the water course it most certainly had been worked by the hand of man to widen it and deepen it, but as I walked on for a kilometer or so it took on more of a rivery feel. Yes, it was definitely more rivery. On my way I came across a sign for a Game Sanctuary, and whilst I have nothing against hunting per se, I couldnt help but find a bit of humour in the sign which seemed to say to me Please dont shoot these birds as we want to shoot them later. I climbed over a ditch and in a large field sown down with wheat I presumed, the fresh green shoots standing only a few inches off the muddy ground and I noticed something that again surprised the bejesus out of me. An ancient standing stone. On a highpoint in the field stood the granite stone about a meter and a half off the ground. The purpose of these stones is not clear, some say they were burial places, some say they marked an ancient path or boundary, some may have been the site of pagan rituals. Around the center stone there may also have been other smaller stones in some alignment. I spotted one large stone close by but it could have been completely unrelated and was likely to have moved lots over the years due to farming practices. Ireland is littered with standing stones, more 10,000 have been recorded. Its impossible to guess when this was erected, but the oldest examples area few thousands of years old. I followed the river for a while and took my leave of her where she intersected the road close to the church at Mayglass and an old girlfriends house (more ancient history). I continued my journey home by road, passing the wee thatch cottage thatched my own brothers fair hands. A smashing outing, a walk back in time and a view of the land as seen from the river. The things I came across today I believe are slipping out of common knowledge as we lose our connection with the land and its really up to us to educate our children about their existence so we can impart a sense of respect and appreciation for our history and culture, and to ensure their survival into the future. Some of these things I visited exist on other peoples property so if you fancy a visit I would advise searching out the land owner and advising them. Mine was more of a transient tramp along the river so I wasnt too concerned. ..and getting back to my other objective I believe Bridgetown to be the best spot to enter the water for my future trip to the coast along the old canal. Mayglass would be another option but with a small amount of dragging.
Posted on: Mon, 12 Jan 2015 19:05:27 +0000
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