Across the road from our BnB is a lovely bush that takes you down to the river in one direction and the ocean in the other. We were first up so after a coffee, a lovely brisk walk with the sun glinting off the trees and fuchsia lined paths makes for a great start to the day. We listened for the scuttling of small animals but it was remarkably free of bird call. We had no fear of snakes however. Them being the symbol of the devil, we learnt early on in catechism that St Patrick told them all to turn tails and get back to wherever they came from. It is disputed if they were speaking about actual snakes or just figuratively as he worked tirelessly to convert Ireland from paganism to Christianity. We celebrated St Patricks day every March 17 by wearing Green, and in the early years attending Mass. These days it’s more of a cursory green ribbon and a txt message of “top of the morning to ya” and the pubs filled with the Irish well into the evenings.
We had been told about a Holy Well, so we headed off to there after the river stop. Nobody seems to know how long it’s been there or who blessed it but there it is in a beautiful spot with water running through it and collecting in a small depression. People have left photos and rosary beads and all manner of trinkets there. Gilbert bent down and scooped up a handful of the cool clear water and let it run down his face. I did the same. “So that’ll be the end of Ataxia” he said as we walked with good strong steps up the path. Whoops! A little diversion off to the side. Just checking the undergrowth there?