Tuesday 30 July 2013

Quoile Castle and Saul Early Christian Site

Quoile Castle is a 17th Century towerhouse, now ruined, located beside the Quoile River, which winds its way from its source (Strangford Lough) initially quite widely through the townland before it hooks back on itself towards Killyleagh where it becomes the Annacloy River, then meandering to become the Ballynahinch River where it peters out. Certainly at the widest points it is impressive, and on hot days looks exceptionally inviting. Quoile Castle is a monument I was only vaguely aware of, although I have since discovered that the Centre for Archaeological Fieldwork in Queen’s University undertook an excavation there in 2011 that you can read here: Quoile Castle Excavation Report.
Map of the south Co. Down area and sites/monuments
The summer has been good....well....that’s perhaps a slight exaggeration, we have had a fortnight of hot weather and perhaps due to the complete lack of any summer weather for the last few years, when it arrived in July it was hailed and loved like a long forgotten remnant of youth (which I am guilty of joining!). There are numerous monuments from history around the surrounding area....Downpatrick is, of course, famous for them, but also has its impressive motte and bailey as well as the cathedrals. Inch Abbey is also relatively close by, and the area is strewn with raths. There are chambered graves (three of them I think) near Lough Money along with something called “The Long Stone” so the area has seen some action for millennia. Saul is also located to the south east, and is another site that is on my doorstep, yet I had never visited or really read much about. There is a holy well there, yet I only discovered when writing this that there is a further holy well and bath house to the south of the main church site. What I thought was the holy well is, I think, the mortuary house.

With the weekend providing the last good days of weather in the foreseeable forecast, I decided to charge the Tiger’s battery one last time for this current few weeks riding and visit these sites. As ever, I took the roads hugging the coast contours of the western shores of Strangford Lough to Lisbane, Balloo and Killyleagh. I was overtaking slower cars with ease on the sections of long straights, the road undulating to the drumlins of the countryside. I could feel the heat of the engine and exhausts against my legs, as today, for some reason, I was more throttle happy than usual. I looked down and the speedometer was certainly....interesting....at times! On hot days I have, recently, had a tendency to have the helmet as half face and fully open. This is not something I had done until recently, but I think the airflow is a necessity! There were, however, the obligatory bugs that hit off my exposed face some of which left a stinging sensation as their arse went through their head on impact. The air is tangibly warmer and heavier with pollen in the countryside roads before you encounter the fresher and clearer sea air near Killyleagh.

Every River Bends
I powered through the tree tunnelled roads towards the small bridge over the Quoile River that is a near 90° turn with the large hump in the middle providing something else to think about! The road hugged the river, with the reeds providing a curious smell in the summer heat. I pulled off the main road to Quay Road and immediately came across the ruins of Quoile Castle.The tower stump sits beside a visitor and countryside centre and the site has wildlife cameras everywhere, although you can’t see them, there are also plenty of picnic tables and a willow tree that looked particularly inviting to sit under (I wish I had brought a book, or even a notepad and pen to jot down my thoughts that the zen motorcycle experience seems to bring on).

Quoile Castle
I explored what there was to see in the castle, the lower vaulted levels and the first floor looking out the 'arrow' loops to the gardens immediately adjacent to the site. I thought that it must be nice to live there; the castle providing an imposing yet somehow protective large garden ornament. I sat on the grass and took in my surroundings, the occasional high whine of a racing bike on the road nearby...clearly there was some other people out with the same thought as me! And who could have blamed them! Immediately beyond the castle is an agreeable green lane that leads to no-where but a spot on the river bank at one of its widest points where you can park up and take in the view. I, of course, took this lane, and as the tarmac became rougher, and the road narrowed and the trees enclosed it, the more I found I enjoyed it. I decided to double back on myself and head to Saul, a small hamlet that is eerily quiet and seems to be a location that people simply drive through. Saul (so the sign says) is the site of the first Christian church in Ireland, founded by St. Patrick in 432AD.

The ruined mortuary house and stone lined trackway at Saul
Given its apparent significance, I found the place somewhat underwhelming. The yew tree lined avenue towards the round tower of the modern church is agreeable enough, but the church itself left me with the feeling of a Disney version of and Irish early Christian site, which is what it is I suppose and I can’t help the feeling that the site is either a fraud or (if it is the site of the founding of one of the earliest Christian sites in Ireland) has been the victim of hideous under funding and care. One single wall is left upstanding that to my eye appears to be medieval or post medieval remains. There is a curious small building that is situated in grass that has been left to grow wild, juxtapositioned with the neatly cut grass around the ruined wall and modern church. Stumps of very old headstones just peak through the top of the grass that are like fingers guiding you towards this strange structure. Whether it’s the holy well or the mortuary house is, I suppose, moot. The greenery of nature is now attempting, and succeeding, in reclaiming it. My mind was brought to sites such as Nendrum, Inch, Clonmacnois, Mellifont, Cashel, Kilkenny etc and they are far more imposing, physically but also spiritually.Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I visited the place (I do love adding dots to a map!) but I guess I had wished for more of an impact. Although in Ireland, you are spoilt in this regard. In the bacck of my mind, I hanker after a longer and more epic trip; even if it is in my own back yard, I find myself yearning fore real adventure and exploration.

Friday 19 July 2013

Summer Contemplation

I needed head space, and the road is the best place to get it. Just you and the bike with clear blue skies and everything else just simply melts away and zones out. I had previously found myself on the road for such little trips, to the Giant’s Ring in Belfast and also further afield. But this time I simply had no destination in mind, the roads would take me where they wanted to take me. And that, in itself, is rather freeing. As I left the urban environment, the smell of what I thought was Honeysuckle in the air wafted in my nostrils and mixed with the sea breeze was quite a refreshing tonic for body and soul. I had the visor fully retracted and was riding half-face as the heat was almost stifling. Any stop, at a set of lights or behind slower traffic was frustrating as the air circulating was a requirement, not only for my cooling, but also for the bike as well. I soon found myself on the back roads past Clea Lough that I have blogged about before, but I knew I wouldn’t be doubling back, so I pressed on. I took the turn off for Strangford and the ‘Sunday Driver’ traffic cleared. 
Audley's Castle
The road sweeps left and right with bends that you can really get a lot of lean angle, but also keep the power on, I felt a sense of calm come over me, and I entered that zone where the bike and I become one, the movement is almost sub conscious and everything flows so well and so effortlessly. At time the hedging closes in the road to a tunnel and the greenery flicks past your head, when the hedges thin out, the heat assaults all your senses as you feel the warm air on your face, as well as smell it. It smells of warm tarmac and ‘green’ I know that might sound weird, verging on synaesthesia, but I can remember now looking back on childhood as ‘smelling like the taste of’ and I don’t think I am anyway unique in that. Trees hang over the road casting their shadows like some sort of protective hands arching over your path but the series of shaded parts give light relief from the strong UV beating down from the sun. Not that I’m complaining! All too often the weather is overcast and miserable! Whilst heading towards Strangford, I saw a sign for Audley’s Castle....somewhere I had studied but never actually been. The monument is a towerhouse, perched on a drumlin overlooking Strangford Lough and would have, I think, been one of the earlier structures associated with Castle Ward.....with it constructed in the 15th Century. But the main manor is what everyone thinks about when you mention the place.

The Tiger parked on the quiet wooded trackway
The buildings at the lower end of the Castle Ward Estate being late 16th / 17th Century and then the more famous country residence superseding all of these. I took the ‘green lane’ route towards the shore line and Audley’s, the road having exceptionally pleasing undulations and twists, before hitting a stoney ‘off road’ turnoff to actually get towards the castle. The bike squirmed at times, trying to find grip in the loose surface, the tyre would find it and bite and the throttle control had to be spot on to stop a tank slapper. But it was some of the most enjoyable riding I have yet done. The area around Audley’s is quite heavily wooded, but the light shone through the leaves and the sound of the trees gentle rustling every time there was a slight breeze from the Lough shore was calming and Zen-like. I sat on a fallen tree stump, alone, but not lonely....I sat and contemplated things, my mind clear and free from distraction. I think this is as close to meditation as I’m ever going to get. At times, I’m not necessarily concentrating on something, or mulling over a particular issue, rather I am simply sitting there and ‘being’. Might sound a bit hippy-ish, but it works for me, and that’s all that matters. After chatting to a family who had shown up to have a picnic, I decided it was time to get back on the road. I travelled back the way I had came to go to Strangford town....once there, as ever, it is picturesque. However, the heat was genuinely stifling, and moving at such a slow pace in the leathers was starting to have [sweaty] consequences. I had to get air moving around me. So I decided to travel back up to Saul and Downpatrick, and then the Killyleagh route back to the urban sprawl. The thought of it filled me with dread, and I seem to want to escape it more and more these days. I have never needed company, and I think these little excursions will become frequent.

The next day, after purhasing an 'as new' second hand Givi topbox, we headed down on the bike to Castle Ward for a picnic. The panniers and topbox were loaded with shorts, blankets and everything to make the picnic comfortable. We entered the grounds by, what I think, is the southern entrance, next to the Strangford shoreline. I enjoyed strolling round the grounds, little paths and nooks everywhere you went. The weather helps, of course, but I find myself gravitating towards these sorts of activities nowadays, rather than partying. Getting older.....certainly, but it's not something I feel any need to hide. I had my wild days, believe me, I did, so a bit of peace and quiet now is to be craved, rather than shunned.

Monday 8 July 2013

The Back Roads to Shrigley

Another fine day, so another chance to don the leathers and head out on the bike. The heat was all consuming, a rare event in Ireland! But one that when it comes you don’t moan about as all too often you are looking forlornly out of a window at ashen skies and mizzle, the type that doesn’t look that bad but soaks you through when you’re in it. My new haunt of the Co. Down roads towards Downpatrick are awesome, but I fancied a change and decided to go wherever the wind took me, a state of mind in itself that is rather freeing. I knew that I would head through Lisbane to Balloo and then turn right along a phenomenal road that I had encountered last time I was out by sheer chance….after that I wasn’t sure.
I could feel the heat coming up through the tarmac, which gives you confidence as the warm road surface helps the tyre adhere really well. The grip was confidence inspiring. The roads seemed to be fairly busy, but in the opposite direction, so I had long straights inviting me with their heat haze shimmering, the small crests and dips were inviting me to come and play. At the end of the road outside Balloo, for no particular reason, I turned left (heading approximately south). I passed a small church, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, with headstones from another age…..maybe at one time it served a vibrant community, but any trace of them was gone and these inscribed slabs of granite and sandstone were all that was left of them. The world moves on, and that was a source of pain for me once….that no matter how much you think the world should stop and say ‘isn’t that awful’….it doesn’t, it simply carries on oblivious to the pain you are in. It’s the single point that the Victorians found abhorrent about Darwin’s theory….not that evolution took place, but that it showed that nature was cruel and everything was locked in a vicious struggle for survival, rather than the romanticized frolicking in the countryside antithesis.

Once I was on this road, I was immediately struck by the sheer beauty of the rolling drumlin countryside in which I found myself. Occasionally shocked by a bird that flew out directly in front of me from the hedgerows. The occasional outcrop of trees arched over the road to provide rest bite from the sun and even though my sun visor was down, my eyes were able to see more clearly without the glare. On the Clea Lough Road, I (not surprisingly) passed a series of small loughs. They shimmered through the hedges, and I could see swans swimming on the flat calm surface. I immediately wanted to pull over to stop and take it in, but I couldn’t find a place to pull in and there appeared to be no roads (on this westerly side of them) to lead me to the shore[s]. I still think they would make an excellent location for a picnic, or even a quick pit stop. So more research will have to be done here to see how I can get to them.

I passed through small hamlets, sometimes with a small church associated with them and I can't help but imagine what these places would have been like in their hay-day (probably the 19th Century). My father always said I would like to have lived in another time, but the key point is you need to have lived with money.....being 'poor' in the 19th Century (like any time) would have been grim. I found myself entering a village I had never been to before....Shrigley. I was immediately struck by the rolling countryside in which it sat, but there was a strange dissatisfaction with the place. I pulled in at a lovely monument, a small clock tower it seemed to me, with a large mill chimney as it's backdrop behind the greenery.

However, the village appeared to consist of 1960's housing estate dwellings, and on further research I found that the village once was rather picturesque. The original village and the associated mill workers cottages were swept away and a sense of a modern ugly transposition is right in your face. Indeed, the Ulster Architectural Society have stated: "There is no variety, and there is no attempt to provide any kind of focus or heart to the community. There is not one element in the new estate which preserves or even recalls the identity of the old village; it is entirely inappropriate to its setting in the rolling drumlin country side of County Down." Quite sad then that all that remains is the monument. I also discovered that this was built to commemorate John Martin who built the original cotton mill. The monument was built in 1871 and designed by Timothy Hevey. It is a beautiful piece (to my mind), but beauty is in the eye of the beholder! The Ulster Architectural Society describe it as: "A remarkably imposing monument of brown stone, in three layers; the design has much in common with, but is rather grander than, the Rossmore Memorial of about the same date in the Diamond of Monaghan town. The base, surrounded by iron railings, originally with an elaborate lamp at each corner, is square. Upon this, an octagonal arcade of round-headed arches, carried on columns with Ruskinian foliated capitals, surrounds the central shaft which incorporates the drinking-fountain. Above this rises a square tower, supported by eight flying buttresses springing from pinnacles; in each face is a triple pointed opening divided by small foliate-capitalled columns. Above these openings are large circular oculi in which the clock (now entirely disappeared) displayed its four faces. The tower is surmounted by acute angled gable-pediments, with five-lobed ogee centre pieces; four corner pinnacles, the crockets now missing; and a pyramidal roof terminating in ornate cresting." (ibid). Although the village might leave something to be desired, the road to get there dominates my memory, and the joy I had on that road overcomes any sense of architectural disappointment. I continued south only to discover I was soon at the side entrance to Killyleagh Castle, flanked by beautifully shaped trees.

I had never approached the town from this side, and it came upon me quickly and unexpectedly. But it was a pleasant surprise. I parked up at the front entrance, the bike bouncing on the cobbled roadway. The castle has something of a Disney quality to it....the (later) added turrets and crenelations give it an Errol Flynn Robin Hood appearance. But the original castle was, iteself, a plantation home, rather than a medieval structure. There was a family picnicking on the front lawn, and immediately the small boy had eyes like the moon at the bike. Although in my leathers, I was quickly starting to boil in my own juices, I struck up a conversation with the father: "ahhh he loves the bikes". So I asked if he had ever sat on one....an excited shake of the head told me he hadn't. So I told the father to sit him on the bike. The sheer excitement was shown by the boys limbs visibly shaking! I made sure the bike was in neutral and told him to push the starter button, the bike roared into life. More excitement. However, when I told him to gently squeeze back the throttle, he grabbed it up to 9000 rpm (close to the bike's 10,000 rpm red line). He soon was lifted off!! I made my way out of Killyleagh, keen to get some airflow around my body. I rode with the Shark helmet visor and half face all the way up. The warm smell of grasses and wildflower permeated the air, and I was glad for some refreshing breeze, even if the air itself was slightly hot.

It's amazing how the good weather seems to put everyone in a good mood.....people waved as I drove past them, and all along the route there seemed to be people out cutting grass or hedges, they blurred past me as I twisted the throttle. Hopefully the weather will keep up and Nicola and I can get a picnic out on the bike.....must remind her to ensure the thermal lining is out of her bike gear!!