ken (sensibleken) wrote in get_up_dread_up,
ken
sensibleken
get_up_dread_up

History, dreads, dog and drenched

Lately every saterday ive made it a task of mine to visit and photograph one historical site in ireland. ive so far concentrated on megaltic burial sites with sparse, bordering on pathetic results. so far in five months ive found only one dolmen and one wedge tomb (hey! you try finding a particular rock on a mountain full of rocks!)


so resulting from a poll on my journal which gave the option of pictures from either a stone circle 20 minutes away or a castle in the middle of the country (i live on the coast) everyone voted for the castle. thanks guys!

at mid-day i hoped on trusty vespa and began making the 120 mile journey to the rock of dunmase ('carraig dhun masc' in irish or 'rock of the closed frontier') an 11th century fortress built on a viking fort built by richard de clare, more famously known as 'strongbow'.  he was the first norman ruler of a province of ireland, although a benevolent ruler, the invasion heralded the first formalisation of british rule in ireland. the castle was a stronghold until eventually destroyed by cannon fire by the british conquest under oliver cromwell in the 1600s. anyway enough of the history. heres the story of the journey.

much like a box of chocolates, irish weather is unpredictable. and of course when approaching the site, the heavens opened. thunder, lightning, rain and gales i eventually ran up the rock to take refuge in the barbican gate

here is ken. and hes bloody anoyed.

while pissing about with the camera trying to take this picture, behind me i heard a scuffle and a whimper and turned to see this little guy

dripping wet, shivering, whining (both of us) i sat down and held him to me trying to exchange body heat until the violent shaking stopped. about fifteen minutes later the rain subsided, i saw this and realised that fate had thrown us together

he was a dready doggy! since he didnt have a name tag i decided to call him strongbow.

so we gathered ourselves and decided to do our exploring. (sorry i look like crap in these photos, but fuck it its rugged and outdoorsy grrrr)

the barbican gate, the main entrance to the complex

this is the main gate, the two holes in the centre were sentry posts, the others were caused by cannon fire

strongbow seems to be more enthusiastic than i am

this wall folded down on itself, and the thickness of it gives some idea of the devestation caused by the cannon fire. the castle at the time was mainly filled with a few musketters and hundreds of farmers with their families armed with farm tools. all were killed. in the invasion itself over one third of the population of ireland were wiped out. but twas all in good fun.

but happy time!!!!

yeah get away from me ya fukin hippy!

the main guest hall. notice surprise weather creeping in

there ya go!

the view form up here its easy to see why they built it here. impossible to sneak up from from here....

or here. perfect.

unless they come from behind either of those hills. shit.

so there i go. i said goodbye to strongbow. who then lay down in front of my bike so i couldnt leave. no matter which way i went he would stop trying to obstruct me. it was really hard to just abandon the guy and leave but a dog on a vespa on a motorway at 120mph is not exactly safe. so with a heavy heart i turned the key and drove off slowly. with strongbow in persuit i gave him a wave in my rearview to see him turn upon spotting some children and run off to make someone elses day.





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