ridden off .
After the Donegal Táin run , it was time for me to head towards Rosslare for the journey home . On the way , I stayed with the organiser of the Donegal run who added to my tour of conflict zones by showing me the site of the Battle of the Boyne which took place in 1690 .
The River Boyne looks peaceful now despite the slaughter that took place here when Protestant William of Orange defeated the army of Catholic James 1 which led to him and his wife Mary ruling England , Ireland , and Scotland .
I would have liked to stay at every little coastal town on the way from Dublin to Rosslare but satisfied myself with stopping for fish and chips at sunny Courtown .
I was beginning to feel that Ireland is split between being war-torn and rather other-worldly as in Jonathan Swift ’ s “ Gulliver ’ s Travels ” or stories of Queen Maeve . Then there ’ s the bitterness still felt about history , ancient and modern , that just will not rest .
Thinking in too serious a way , I passed a graveyard . A very full graveyard . Possibly aware that they were running out of space , the committee overseeing the affairs of the departed had decided to put up a sign to deter would-be relatives and friends from leaving their loved ones here . The sign read ; “ NO DUMPING ”.
I cracked up at the unintentional craic , so much more in keeping with the impressions of Ireland that I ’ d gleaned from the friendly , amusing people it had been my pleasure to meet than the disquieting conflicts I ’ d learnt about . I smiled all the way to the ferry … JF
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