Thursday 27 August 2015

The Sacrament of the Ordinary


One of my favourite painters is Caravaggio; whenever I am in Dublin, I always try and find time to sit for a few minutes in the National Gallery of Ireland and contemplate The Taking of Christ - an experience made all the more moving by seeing Caravaggio's self-portrait on the far right of the crowd; his face illuminated by a lantern, desperately straining to try and see Christ in the gathering darkness. He was a man so tortured and restless in real life and I am sure this is no artistic coincidence; his way of saying how he sincerely longed for God and yet felt so distant; a prisoner of his anger, pride and dissolute lifestyle. He was a man who painted with heavenly talent during the day, but squandered it at night in drunken brawls and vendettas that led to him murdering a man and going down to an early grave himself.

The Taking of Christ
I have spent an enjoyable time on holiday in recent years examining paintings like his Bacchus in the Uffizi in Florence. Is Caravaggio’s Sicilian friend Mario Minniti just modelling the god of wine or does the painting hint at something much deeper – the Eucharist; as a goblet of rich red wine is held out towards the viewer above the over-ripe fruit; symbol of the transience of life?

Bacchus
In June 2014 whilst on holiday in Rome, I bemused my children by visiting as many of his paintings as I could manage! Astonishing paintings like those in the Cerasi Chapel in Santa Maria del Popolo; The Crucifixion of St. Peter, where the weight of Peter’s cross is felt as his executioners hoist him aloft or The Conversion of St. Paul where the almost tangible solidity of the horse is contrasted by the heavenly light that has fallen on the spead-eagled St. Paul as his moment of conversion is internalised and he is caught up in ecstasy to the eternal sphere.

Crucifixion of St. Peter
What is it I like so much about Caravaggio's paintings? One reason is their almost photographic realism - the art critic and TV presenter, Andrew Graham Dixon in his excellent book, Caravaggio - A Life Sacred and Profane has pointed out that if Caravaggio was alive today, he would probably be a film director because of the radical use of light in his paintings, which are like freeze frame moments - his paintings are always full of latent action.

Conversion of St. Paul
But the other reason I am attracted to Caravaggio's paintings is their realism. As Graham - Dixon points out, you only have to compare the fanciful paintings of Caravaggio's rival Annibale Carracci - paintings like his Assumption of the Virgin in the same Cerasi Chapel, with it's contrived postures, characters who not placed in space and time, and who are adorned with lurid colours to see how radical Caravaggio was in the way he grounded his paintings in normal life. The sheet covering Bacchus' couch is grimy and revealing the ticking underneath; the feet of the executioner lifting St. Peter's cross are dirty; the imperfections in the flank of St. Paul's horse are lovingly recorded so that you feel you can almost feel it twitching beneath your hand.

Caravaggio did not dress up the characters in his paintings with a holy aura; with halos and rich clothes; he made them into ordinary people from the everyday Rome of the 16th Century that he lived in. He made the biblical stories take place in taverns among the poor and the working class. This scandalised the Church of his day who didnt want to see Jesus portrayed as a humble peasant mixing with the dubious dregs of society, but as a but a glorious and triumphant God suitable for Princes and Cardinals! But I am with Caravaggio, for the Kingdom of God is open to all and blessed are the poor, the hungry the persecuted and those who mourn.


Caracci's Assumption of the Virgin
 Which brings me to my favourite of Caravaggio's paintings; The Supper at Emmaus, painted in 1601, which hangs in the National Gallery in London. I have been thinking a lot recently about what we might call the Sacrament of the Ordinary. A sacrament is an outward sign of an invisible grace as I have said previously in this blog. For example, the seemingly ordinary bread and the wine that believers take at Communion is an outward symbol of the salvation and new life that was won for us on the cross by Christ. As the Christian writer Richard Foster points out "to speak of life as sacramental means that everything visible in some way points to the invisible - the constant upholding reality of eternal grace. The wind, a bird in flight or glass of water - the Spirit. A good meal - God's provision. The embrace of a loved one - God's love to us." And Foster goes on to say that “the fact that God became a man affirms every aspect of human experience as potentially holy ground".

The Supper at Emmaus
Caravaggio deliberately grounded his paintings in the everyday life of the world around him because he understood the sanctity of the ordinary; that whispers of God's glory, love and presence could be found in everyday life. 

The incident portrayed in The Supper at Emmaus comes from Luke’s Gospel Chapter 24, verses 13 – 35. In these verses we are told that two of Jesus’ followers were walking about seven miles from Jerusalem to the village of Emmaus on the Sunday morning after Jesus’ crucifixion. They were downcast and were talking about Jesus’ death two days before and a rumour that Jesus had risen from the dead, when suddenly the resurrected Jesus appears and walks alongside them, but they are kept from recognising him due to some change in his appearance or because of their depressed state. Jesus asks them what they are talking about and then goes on to explain from Scripture “beginning with Moses and all the prophets” how his coming death and resurrection was foretold.

When they reached Emmaus, Jesus makes to continue on, but the disciples urge him to stay with them as it is nearly evening. They have a meal together and then Luke tells us that Jesus

“took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognised him and he disappeared from their sight. They asked each other “Were not our hearts burning within while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us”. (Luke 24:30-32).

In his painting Caravaggio has captured in freeze-frame that split-second moment as Jesus breaks the bread and the disciples have their eyes opened. One disciple is just in the process of pushing himself out of his chair in shock, the other disciple has his arms stretched out in utter amazement; his left hand seems to reach out of the membrane of the canvas to touch us.

But what is really interesting about the painting is the seeming ordinariness of the scene – even the muted colours are “ordinary” – muted greens and reds; none of Annibale Carracci’s gaudiness here! Caravaggio places the Supper at Emmaus in an ordinary 16th Century tavern of the type he drank in frequently in Rome. Apparently to the viewer it’s just a pub scene; the Innkeeper who has just brought the food to the table doesn’t seem to see anything special about Jesus (who is unusually portrayed as beardless to symbolise his resurrected body). The disciples just seem poor down-at-heel working folk wearing worn old clothes (one with a hole in his jacket’s elbow).

But he who has eyes let him see, for look more closely and in the seeming ordinariness, those who are prepared to believe will find God’s glory. For what do we see on the table but bread and a jug of wine, whispers of the Eucharist as in the Bacchus painting? There again is the basket of over ripe fruit, this time teetering on the edge of the table, a device often used in the period to hint at mortality. But look at the shadow cast by the fruit and we see a fish’s tail. The fish was an early Christian symbol. To emphasise mortality further the dead scrawny chicken lies with it’s shrivelled feet. However, these feet are echoed by the hand of Christ raised in a life-giving benediction and the shadow on the wall behind him makes a halo above Christ’s head. In the midst of the ordinariness of everyday life, Christ is still very much present if we choose to see him

One of the things that fascinates me about the Camino is that there are often long sections of just trudging along where nothing seems to happen and which seem very mundane and ordinary; a long straight section beside a noisy motorway maybe, or a walk through an ugly industrial or urban landscape. But I have come to realise that life itself is the same; very often there are long ordinary stretches of going to work day after day or taking the kids to school or cutting the grass and doing housework. There are no mountain top experiences or special revelations, though they come too eventually to refresh us just as a beautiful section or event on the Camino eventually occurs. And yet in the midst of seeming "ordinariness" God can still speak. In fact, that is precisely where he often speaks if we are listening. He comes and meets us as we just pod along.

Foster comments that in the bible “God showed up in the most ordinary and common way possible, from the ground up, in an out of the way place, with only a few common folk summoned to witness his arrival". The discovery of God he says "lies in the daily and the ordinary, not in the spectacular and the heroic. If we cannot find God in the routines of home and shop, then we will not find him at all". I pray that you and I will have eyes to see Jesus when he meets us in the guise of the ordinary, whether walking the Camino on one of the boring stretches or just on the everyday pilgrimage of life.

By the way, did you notice that the disciple on the right is a pilgrim? Look more closely; he is proudly wearing a scallop shell on his breast – he must have been to Santiago!



Sunday 9 August 2015

Raad Ny Foillan – Camino Training

After enjoying the Bayr Ny Skeddan, I took the opportunity to do a little more Camino training and on our last day on the Isle of Man; I decided to walk a seven mile stretch of the Raad Ny Foillan from Port St. Mary to Port Erin with my teenage children.
The Calf of Man Crucifixion slab
As I explained in my previous post, the Raad Ny Foillan or Way of the Seagull, is 96 mile coastal footpath with fabulous scenery that runs around the entire Isle of Man. We hadn’t time to walk it all, but I had already got a flavour of it between Glen Maye and Peel and I was eager to see some more and felt the southern tip of the island would be a good place to experience further examples of it’s spectacular views.

The "Loch" pulling the 10.27 into Castletown Station
We were blessed with exceptional weather – hot sun requiring the first suncream I have actually used this year, blue skies and sparkling seas. Back home, Ireland was experiencing the coldest July for 23 years, but the Isle of Man didn’t seem to know this!
Chapel Bay, Port St. Mary
The kids and I left our holiday cottage at 9.00 am and followed the Bayr Ny Skeddan back down to Castletown via Silverdale. The fourteen year old son, given to a surfeit of computer games at home was already lagging by the time we reached Castletown and caught the 10.27 steam train to Port St.Mary, thankfully though, the daughter was going well! We were amused on the train to note an enthusiastic steam-mad middle aged dad looking bright eyed as the train clattered along, whilst his early twenties-something son looked bored and snoozed.
The harbour, Port St.Mary
At Port St. Mary we made our way down to the town centre and followed the broad sweep of Chapel Bay to the right, towards the harbour. Further along, I was interested and moved to see the Dunkirk Memorial with an anchor salvaged from TSS Mona’s Isle Queen which was sunk at Dunkirk, pointing southeast towards the French coast in the centre on a mosaic compass. Apparently Isle of Man Steam Packet Company ships were amongst the first to respond to the call to evacuate soldiers from Dunkirk’s beaches and in the end three unarmed Steam Packet vessels were shelled and sunk. However, amazingly 1 in 14 soldiers rescued at Dunkirk were done so by Steam Packet ships – something for which the Isle of Man to be proud of as the sacrifice of their Merchant Seamen is remembered.
The Dunkirk Memorial
TSS Mona's Isle Queen's anchor pointing towards Dunkirk
Near the memorial is a large World War II concrete bombing practice arrow, another reminder of the dark days of the war and a reminder of the part the Isle of Man played in those difficult times.
WW II bombing practice arrow
We climbed up the side of the golf course and expansive views opened up behind us across Perwick Bay towards Port St. Mary, Castletown and Langness. A monument in a stone wall remembered Ned Madrell, the last native Manx speaker who died in 1972 and used to sit with his friends to enjoy the view and yarn.
The son with a Raad Ny Foillan signpost
We stopped for a snack. The son was definitely getting tired; the climb had been pretty steep out of Port St. Mary (for a teenage boy not used to it!) and it was surprisingly hot. Whilst eating I thought I saw a couple of Choughs. These members of the Crow or Corvid family are endangered in much of Europe, but seem to be doing well on the Isle of Man as they like the tightly grazed coastal turf where they can feed on ants and insect larvae. I am particularly fond of them with their curved red beaks, red legs, glossy black plumage, cheerful p-koow call and aerial acrobatics. I used to enjoy seeing them as a teenager on the Causeway Coast of Co. Antrim, but they are getting very scarce there now.


Perwick Bay
As I say, I hoped to see a few Choughs – maybe a pair or two, I was amazed, therefore when we climbed over a stile into the area called the Chasms to see literally dozens of them –flocking, swooping and diving; the greatest concentration of Choughs I have ever seen!
Snack at the Chasms
The Chasms is an area of deep fissures down through the local bedrock and cliffs caused by severe earth movements. In places the fissures go below sea level and given that some are covered in heather and vegetation, I kept strictly to the paths and I found looking down some of them at their depth gave me the creeps! Apparently there have been some nasty accidents here; I could well imagine. The Choughs however love the fissures for nesting and a nearby fissured cliff face was alive with them coming and going to their nests. The Chasms is also a good place to get a really good view of the Sugarloaf Sea Stack which was still alive with nesting seabirds such as Guillemots, Razorbills, Kittiwakes, Fulmars, Petrels and Shags. The noise of the colony was immense, even this late in the Summer and a delight to watch.
Great Sugarloaf sea stack
Walking on round the headland we could see views back inland to nearby Cregneash Village which has been turned into a heritage folk village and celebrates Manx culture, language and the traditions of such bygone crofting settlements that were dependant on fishing and farming as they eked out a tough existence that finally came to an end in the first half of the Twentieth Century.
One of the fissures at the Chasms
After Spanish Head, which apparently is named after Spanish sailors rescued from an Armada wreck in 1588, amazing panoramic views of the Calf of Man came into view. The Calf is a small island off the south west coast of the Isle of Man, separated from the main island by a turbulent stretch of waters; Calf Sound and the rocky islet of Kitterland where seals were wallowing, their plaintive moans carrying up to us high as we were above them. Also in the background, and to be seen very clearly on such a fine day, were the Mourne Mountains and the Ards Peninsula in my native Co. Down and it seemed to me that I could also pick out the Cooley Penisula in Co. Louth to the south and the Antrim Plateau to the north.
Cregneash village from Spanish Head
The Calf of Man is also interesting because it must have been the site of a Celtic Christian monastic site. In the 18th Century, when an early Christian chapel was being demolished, a unique 8th Century Manx slate slab was discovered. It was carved with a crucifixion scene and shows the still living Christ, with eyes open and clothed in an ornate robe, flanked by a spear-bearer. The style of the scene is known from other Celtic representations in manuscripts and bronzes; indeed the large circular ornament shows that the stone carver was using a bronze prototype with a central rivet; and the depiction of Christ shows the artistic links between the Celtic Church in Western Britain and the Church in the Eastern Mediterranean. The slab was probably an altar front and is now in the Manx Museum in Douglas where I photographed it earlier in the week.
Panorama of Calf Sound
Walking on we came across a poignant bogwood seat that had an inscription carved into it encouraging walkers to sit and rest, enjoy the view and dream. Apparently it was a memorial created by someone called Mark remembering his much loved wife Amanda Jo Boyd who had died aged only 41. I sat in the chair for a while, as the kids caught up with me and thought of what it would be like to lose my own wonderful wife who brings me so much love, joy and happiness and I prayed for Mark.
Nearby is the modern Calf Sound café which sells good food and has excellent panoramic views of the Sound from it’s semi-circular glass floor to ceiling windows. My wife Liz, met us here with a picnic to use up food left over from the previous night’s barbeque and we fell on it like Gannets! The son decided he had had enough walking, but he hadn’t done too bad as he had walked about 11km since we left home. We left him to travel around to Port Erin with his mother in the car and the daughter and I carried on around the coastal path.
The Calf from Aldrick
Further along I was able to get good views with my binoculars of another Chough feeding in the turf and was even able to pick up a souvenir discarded Chough feather with its characteristic square-ish feather end that has been given pride of place in my study.
Bradda Head and Port Erin Bay
A pleasant stroll for about an hour along the headlands past Aldrick and Bay Fine brought us round to the lovely little seaside town of Port Erin. Along the way I fell into conversation with some retired Manx lady hikers who amongst other things, informed me that they got £180 a week from their Isle of Man state pension; pretty darn good! The most talkative lady said she was originally from Port Erin but had moved to the “Metropolis” i.e. Douglas, some years ago!
Port Erin
Bradda Head at the entrance to Port Erin Bay came into view with it’s strangely shaped Milner Tower. Apparently Mr. Milner was a 19th Century London Safe-Maker who liked visiting Port Erin and decided to pay for a defensive sea wall in order to create a safe harbour for the town. When this was finished he threw a party for everyone to celebrate and the locals were so grateful they built the Milner Tower from public subscription, in the shape of one of Mr. Milner’s more successful patented safe keys as a lasting memorial!

Given the beautiful weather, Port Erin’s beach was packed with families and children bathing and the daughter and I made our way along the promenade to Davison’s Manx Ice Cream shop for celebratory cones before being joined by the wife and son.

Approximately 16 km walked; a very pleasant and satisfactory day’s Camino training!

Thursday 6 August 2015

Bayr Ny Skeddan - Camino Training

 
During July I had a family holiday on the Isle of Man. I had been before in 2008, when the children were small and had enjoyed it’s quaint feel of Victorian holiday destination with it’s seaside resorts, steam railway and trams, combined with the island’s unique mix of heritage – Neolithic, Manx Gaelic, Celtic Christian, Scandinavian / Viking influence and Medieval English castles. It is very much a place apart that feels like being in Ireland and England simultaneously and yet neither, all at the same time and as a badge of this, it still maintains the oldest continuous Parliament in the world – The Tynwald, which is Norse in origin and may date back to A.D. 979.
The Manx Triskelion
On my last visit, I had mainly concentrated on visiting the main tourist attractions to keep my children entertained. This time however, as my children are now teenagers and my wife had given me permission to wander off by myself, I wanted to combine my holiday with some Camino training by walking some of the excellent footpaths that criss-cross the island and allow one to experience the surprising diversity of natural landscapes that the island has to offer.
Castletown
The Isle of Man is covered by a superb network of public footpaths, many ancient, however in recent years, three long distance footpaths in particular have been developed. The Millennium Way was the first one to be developed in 1979 to celebrate one thousand years of Tynwald and runs for 23 miles from Ramsey to Castletown, following as closely as possible the ancient route of the Norse Kings, who favoured the safe anchorage at Ramsey and had a royal residence at Castletown.
Mating slugs darting each other with silica packages
The second footpath , developed in the Heritage Year of 1986, is the Bayr Ny Skeddan which means Herring Way in Manx Gaelic and follows a 14 mile traditional route from Peel to Castletown, which was used by fisherman who would bring kippers they had smoked in the factory at Peel to market in Castletown, the island’s former capital.
The garishly beautiful but invasive Himalayan Balsam on the banks of the Silverburn
The third long distance footpath is the 96 mile Raad Ny Foillan or Way of the Seagull, which was also developed in 1986 and runs around the entire coast of the island. A fourth path also follows the old steam railway line from Peel, past St.John’s and Tynwald Hill to link up with the Millennium Way at Crosby in the centre of the island.
Someday I hope that maybe I can walk the entire Raad Ny Foillan, but since I was only staying on the Isle of Man for week, and had to also spend time with my family, I decided I would walk the Bayr Ny Skeddan as this also links up with sections of the Millennium Way and the Raad Ny Foillan. This would allow me to get a flavour of the different footpaths and if I had time before I left the island, then I would walk another section of the Raad Ny Foillan as well. For my walk I used Aileen Evans excellent book Isle of Man Coastal Path with The Millennium and Herring Ways, www.Cicerone.co.uk.
Marsh Woundwort - Stachys palustris
We were staying in an excellent converted barn holiday cottage (www.Ballanchrinkbarncottages.com) near Castletown and as the joint Millennium Way / Bayr Ny Skeddan section ran past the end of our farm lane, it made sense to walk the Bayr Ny Skeddan in reverse from Castletown – Peel. I decided to walk the first small section (1 hour and 10 minutes walking time) from Castletown to Silverdale, one evening and then continue on to Peel from our holiday cottage the next morning. My wife therefore dropped me off at Castletown on a sunny but cool and blustery evening and I began my walk.
Greater Birdsfoot Trefoil
Castletown itself is a small pleasant and picturesque town of narrow streets and a market place, which was the Isle of Man’s capital until 1869 when Tynwald moved to Douglas. It is dominated by the fortress of Castle Rushen which probably dates from the late 12th and early 13th centuries. Magnus Olafsson the last Norse King of Mann and the Isles, died here in 1265 and after a period of unrest when Scotland and England vied for control of the island it became the principal fortress of the English controlled Kings and Lords of Mann.
Soldier beetles on Hogweed flower
I started my walk by the narrow harbour where the fishing boats were languishing at low tide and made my way alongside the Silverburn River, past the town park and out into more open countryside where rabbits were scattering in the evening light. The nearby steam railway line runs beside the path and must give excellent close up views of the steam locomotives during the daytime, but as they don’t run in the evening, I missed this treat.

Millennium Way & Bayr Ny Skeddan Signpost near Ballasalla
Eventually the path crossed the A7 briefly, which sounds like a very grand and a large busy road, but like all roads on the Isle of Man was in fact a quiet country road, and I reached the site of Rushen Abbey at Ballasalla.
Ruined tower of Rushen Abbey
Little remains of the abbey, except the ruined tower, parts of the enclosure wall and a few monastic buildings, but archaeological investigations were done in recent years and the site has been made into a tourist attraction with a pleasant garden and café and the outline of the cloister and abbey church ground plan can be delineated and a heritage centre has been created.
The abbey was founded in 1134, with the permission of King Olaf I, by the Savignac monks at Furness, but quickly came under Cistercian control in 1147 when the two orders merged. The abbey church of St. Mary was completed in 1257 and the abbey dissolved in the 16th Century.
Ford to Ballasalla
Nearby is a picturesque ford which you can cross to Ballasalla, but I continued up the Silverburn valley; now delightfully wooded with deciduous trees and examined the Monk’s Bridge. Built in 1350 and paved with quartz pebbles, it is a reminder that the monks developed the land around the abbey, managing and draining it and making it highly productive.
The Monk's Bridge
Dusk was falling as I reached the mill and café at Silverdale Glen and I was eager to get home; all I had to do was turn right up the A3 for about a kilometre and I would be back at our holiday cottage in time for supper. Unfortunately, I saw a Manx footpath sign opposite and I thought the footpath ran parallel to the A3 for a distance before rejoining it; I had not yet learned that just because you see a Manx footpath sign, does not mean you should follow it!
Café at Silverdale Glen
So began my self-imposed adventure; I quickly found myself lost in a footpath that wound it’s way uphill through shoulder high bracken where startled sheep examined me with a mixture of alarm and disdain. It got darker and the wind began to get up and I got damper and damper as I waded through the wet bracken and hoped I would find the road before it got totally dark.
Eventually I stumbled out onto a road over a stile; but where was I and which way should I go? I tried walking one direction and could see Barrule Hill, visible from our cottage and the illuminated lights of Douglas in the distance, but I seemed to going in the wrong direction, I tried walking a considerable distance in the other direction but that seemed to be getting me nowhere either! I had stupidly only brought my walking book and I had not brought another map or compass as I was only expecting to do a short walk!
I rang my wife rather sheepishly and admitted I was totally lost and suggested she should try driving around the local lanes and see if she could find me! I finally plucked up the courage or cheek and seeing a cottage in the middle of nowhere still lit, approached the kitchen window and seeing an elderly gentleman boiling his kettle and adjusting his radio, knocked the window! He appeared at the door and I apologised profusely for disturbing him, but explained I was totally lost and did he know the way back to Ballanchrink? 
Inviting me in, I was interested to see that the cottage was extremely old with a very large traditional Manx open fireplace or Chollaigh which reached right up to the roof. The inside of the cottage had an eclectic mix of antiques, tools and a lawnmower. The man’s wife appeared repeating “my goodness!” when she heard I was lost. I suspected that they were secretly amused and that the excitement had made their day and had given them something to tell the neighbours and family!
Traditional Chollaigh at Cregneash Folk Village
The kind gentleman offered to drive me home. On the waydownhill in the car he explained that he was 85 years old and lived in England, but that his mother was from the Isle of Man and he had been coming to the island since he was an infant to visit his grandfather who farmed the surrounding land and was a native Manx speaker. He still shared the cottage as a holiday home with his two sisters. The area he said, was called Kerrowkeill and one hundred years ago there were 70 children registered at the local chapel whereas nowadays, due to emigration few lived there. He joked that since in the past, superstitions about fairies had been common on the island, the same as in Ireland, he had thought that “themselves” or the Buggane; a mythical monster that lives in sea caves, had come for him when I knocked his kitchen window!
Red Campion or Fairy Flower
Eventually we saw my wife driving up the road towards us, and drawing alongside and winding down the window he said to my wife in a tone of one returning an errant child “I think I have someone belonging to you?”. My wife smiled and rolled her eyes and thanking him again I returned home chastened for a late supper!
The next morning I set out again; the weather had improved and was a mixture of cloud and sunshine and the temperature became practically humid and tropical in some of the sheltered laneways through which I walked. Turning right out of our farm lane, I walked a short way along the A3 before turning off left along the Bayr Na Skeddan; we were leaving the Millennium Way which carried straight on.
South Barrule Hill
This part of the walk gave fine views of South Barrule Hill and led down muddy lanes after the night’s rain, past a ramshackle farmstead at Moaney Mooar and uphill in a sunken embanked lane bespeckled with tiny dew encrusted Forget-Me-Not and blue Scabious flowers. At the top of the lane, there was a moment when I got lost again as I missed a sign and wandered across a field of long grass and wildflowers, but that only gave the chance to see two large hares that I startled and saw at close range as they raced off.
Farmstead at Moaney Mooar
Back on track and passing another farm and duck pond at Old Moaney, I climbed steadily and was able to see expansive views over the south east of the island to Castletown and Langness. The path continued to climb as I entered the modern Cringle conifer plantation and due to the strenuous ascent and the humidity caused by the shelter from the pine trees, I was sweating profusely. I became a magnet for a vast and harrying squadron of black flies and had to keep going uphill without resting, desperate to get out of the plantation and back into the breeze which I hoped would blow away the flies, which were landing on my face and even getting in my eyes.
View towards Langness
The breeze came when I reached the road junction at Round Table and made my way downhill for some welcome relief from what had been a fairly constant climb since Moaney Mooar. After a small climb again, I turned off the road onto pleasant moorland at Glen Rushen; one of things that impressed me walking on the Isle of Man was how quickly the landscape can change. I stopped at dry grassy bank for a picnic having been noisily scolded by Stonechats with their amusing wheezy whistle and comical grunt and enjoyed examining in detail carnivorous Sundews and a profusion of Heath Spotted Orchids Dactylorhiza maculata. I was also delighted to spot a Kestrel returning to it’s nest to feed it screeching young in a nearby Scots Pine.
Sundew
Heath Spotted Orchids Dactylorhiza maculata
Beyond this, the moorland gave way to another conifer plantation (no flies this time!) and then descended as Glen Rushen became increasingly steep and wooded. Above on a ridge were the ruins and spoil heap of Beckwith’s Lead Mine. Mined for Galena, or lead ore, which also contained a considerable amount of silver, the mine eventually had a shaft that reached a depth of 1100ft – 500ft below sea level, but it closed in 1910 when it was no longer economic to run.
The valley was now deeply cut by the River Maye (maye means yellow in Manx) and indeed the riverbed had yellow rocks linked with the galena vein running through the area. The remains of slate quarries also lined the side of the river in places and a Peregrine Falcon was wheeling around above me.
Beckwith's Lead Mine
Eventually I entered Glen Maye village and turning left at the Waterfall Hotel, I was led down into probably the most beautiful section of the walk – the steeply cut Glen Maye with it’s cascading waterfall set amidst trees and lush ferns. As I lingered to enjoy the waterfall, I was surprised to see a large Cormorant sitting impassively like a large penguin to one side on a rock!
Waterfall at Glen Maye
At the bottom of Glen Maye I joined the Raad Ny Foillan and followed the coastal footpath towards Peel.  Fulmars effortlessly rode the updraft from the cliffs, Sea Campion and Harebells lined the path and I was pleased to spot two endangered Choughs swooping aerobatically. A middle aged man and his tired elderly mother came towards me asking how far it was to the next café of pub and I explained it was a good strenuous 45 minute walk to the Waterfall Hotel and they decided to turn back to Peel, which I thought very wise as the mother looked very tired. Overall, however I met few walkers on the Bayr Ny Skeddan.
Sea Campion

Female Meadow Brown butterfly (Maniola jurtina)

The Raad Ny Foillan between Glen Maye & Peel

Eventually we left the Raad Ny Foillan and descended through well-tended farmland to Glenfaba where I joined the old Douglas – Peel railway line at Glenfaba Mill – the mill leat of which still supplies water to the Electric Power Station at Peel which provides power to the island. And so I reached the end of the Bayr Ny Skeddan at Peel.
Glenfaba Mill
Peel is a very pleasant seaside town with a broad sandy beach and busy little harbour full of yachts and and fishing boats entered under a swing bridge. In the past, it was famous for it’s kipper industry; herring would be smoked in factories in the town.
A traditional Manx Kipper Tea I enjoyed at Peel!
My chief goal however, was to visit St. Patrick’s Isle – small island now connected to the town by the harbour seawall, but up until a few hundred years ago it could only be reached across a sandy spit from the beach. Legend has it that St. Patrick visited the site, hence it’s name, what archaeological investigations have shown as fact, however is that it was inhabited in Neolithic times as small amounts of flint artefacts have been found, dating back to 8,000 B.C. and the remains of a Bronze Age village (c. 800 B.C.) on the sheltered landward side of the island has also been excavated.
St. Patrick's Isle
In the Celtic Christian period, there was a monastic enclosure and the remains of an Irish style Round Tower, later converted into a medieval watchtower with battlements and some 10th Century ruined chapels and churches remain.
Round Tower, centre and 10th C Church of St. Patrick, right
The Vikings led by King Magnus Barefoot saw the defensive advantages of the site and built a wooden fortress in the 11th Century and St. Patrick’s Isle became the seat of power and government on the island for the next two hundred years. The wooden fortress was subsequently rebuilt in local red sandstone in the 14th Century when the Stanley family were given the Lordship of Mann by Henry IV and as Earls of Derby they controlled the Isle of Man for the next three centuries.
14th C walls
The most distinctive building on the whole site however is the ruined cathedral of St. German. The aisle, transepts and chancel all survive to roof height and although it was finally abandoned in the 18th Century enough remains to make it still an impressive building.
St. German's Cathedral
 
Underneath the chancel is the 13th Century crypt or reliquary of St. German with it’s 14th Century vaulting. One could imagine pilgrims coming down the steps to visit the relics that must have been kept there before the Reformation. In the 18th Century the crypt was used as prison.
Reliquary of St.German
And what about St. German with his strange name; who was he, and what has he got to do with the Isle of Man? Apparently he was Germanus, Bishop of Auxerre, c. 378 – 448 A.D., who according to a hagiography written by Constantius of Lyon, travelled to Britain in about 429 A.D. to combat the heresy of Pelagianism which basically said that that original sin did not taint human nature and therefore people could earn salvation by their own efforts. St. Germanus was an important influence on the early Celtic Church in both Cornwall and particularly Wales and at one stage was supposed to have led a battle against the Picts and Saxons in North Wales. Legend says he founded the Diocese of Sodor and Man, the seat of which was transferred in 1980 to the Parish church of St. German in Peel.
Chancel
Leaving the castle I visited the beach below the castle walls and scouring the shingle picked up a distinctive rust coloured scallop shell to give to my friend Ben Jonas who accompanied me to St. James’s Gate last year and who I have been praying for a lot recently. He is going to walk the Camino starting on the 20th of September with his friend Rob Deady and then meet up with us at Belorado when I and a few friends continue walking the next section to Frómista on the 5th October. I thought a scallop shell from the site of St. German’s cathedral would be a nice souvenir and maybe encourage Ben to pray for me on occasion as he walks on to Santiago.
Peel town viewed from the castle
Before finishing my walk I took the old railway line past Glenfaba Mill and walked another 5km or so to St. John’s to finish my walk beside Tynwald Hill, where my wife picked me up in the car. The distinctive stepped mound, known as Cronk-Y-Keillown in Manx, is said to contain soil from each of the 17 parishes of the Isle of Man. It is 12 feet or 3.7 metres high and contains four platforms and probably dates from the Norse practice of making public proclamations on mounds, often called Thing Walds or Meeting Place of the Assembly. It was certainly in existence in the 14th Century, and each year on the 5th July, the laws enacted by Tynwald during the past year are read out in the presence of Queen Elizabeth or her representatives after a service in St. John’s Church. It seemed a fittingly ancient and important place to finish my walk so full of history and interest.

Tynwald Hill