The Colonel & the Fly

Over the years you meet very many people and, if you are lucky, there will be someone who has a major influence on your life, perhaps by changing its direction or outlook. I have been fortunate to have known two such people, one in my teens and the other, in my early thirties. The Colonel was the latter and he opened my eyes as well as my brain to many new ideas and experiences. By the time I met him, he was in his early eighties with a lifetime’s knowledge about so many things especially country life, something I too am passionate about. A great story teller; he had that rare gift of making you feel when in his company that you were the most important person in his life – as indeed you were at that moment.

The Colonel  (photographer unknown)

One fine September evening, I walked across the lawns of Woodlands Cottage towards the Colonel. Hosepipe in hand, he was swishing the surface of the swimming pool towards one end, totally engrossed in what he was doing. It was only when I spoke that he became aware of my presence and instantly his face brightened at the sight of a visitor. “Spring cleaning”, he said, “or rather, autumn cleaning. Soon be time to bed it down for the winter”. He pushed aside my apologies for disturbing him and the visit began, as always, with a large whisky and a chat in his snug: a small room lined with books, photographs of his military days, and with comfortable chairs and a writing desk.

I had met the Colonel a couple of years earlier when I moved into his village, six houses up. There had been a knock at the door and before I had a chance to speak, I was asked what religion I was. Before I had a chance to respond I was told that it didn’t matter anyway so long as I turned up at church for bell ringing practice the following evening at 7pm. Although it wasn’t given as a command, I obeyed. Over the years, I found that this natural ability to make people want to do as he requested must have accounted for his success in the army; I could well imagine his men following him into battle just because he asked them to.  This encounter led in time to me taking over a small area of his vegetable garden for my own use as my plot was woefully inadequate in size. The charge for this exclusive allotment was to spend time exchanging news and ideas. Inevitably, the only untidy part of the garden was the one in my care but there was never any reproach for conversation and a whisky were considered to be of far greater importance.

Ibstone watermark

The village church with its weather boarded bell turret

The conversation that autumn evening turned to fishing. I told the Colonel how I had been brought up in a (River)Thames-side village and how I had fished regularly as a lad. When I mentioned that spinning for pike had been a favourite sport he very nearly choked. “Sport?” he spluttered. “The only sport spinning for pike is, is very poor sport! Fly fishing: now that is sport. Not just sport, it is an art and not one easily acquired. Come around next week and I will teach you.” Living in a village high in the Chilterns, a range of chalk hills renowned for its lack of rivers, puzzled I asked, where exactly. “Well, here, of course. Where else did you think we’d go?”

Ibstone Common (2) copyright

The only natural water in the village is the old dewpond – no salmon or trout in there!

One week later and back in the snug, whiskies in hand, he brought out a selection of rods, each one carefully taken from its cloth case for its individual qualities to be explained.   One of split cane was very old and heavy but exquisitely balanced; another shorter and of fibreglass but a useful addition. Another rod was the one to use in fast flowing water, this one in pools. With each rod came tales of triumphs and failures along with the fishermen and ghillies he’d met over the years. For a while we were both transported to Scotland, to a land of heather hills, lochs and rivers filled with trout and salmon; to evenings in the sporting hotels where the events of day would be discussed and to the elderly Scot who owned the local smokehouse whose secret marinade recipe had died with him. “Salmon has never tasted quite as good since.” We sat in silence for a while until the Colonel leapt to his feet. It was time to start the lesson.

On the lawn, I was shown the correct way to stand. Imagine, I was told, that I’d just hooked my first salmon and then lost my balance. Now to cast the fly. He pointed to a fallen leaf – the fish – some yards away. Effortlessly he cast the line for it to land upon it. I tried but the line just landed a short distance from my feet. I was too tense, I needed to relax or I’d never cast properly. Time after time I tried without success. The instructions came thick and fast. “You’re lifting the rod too high; it’s going over your shoulder.” In desperation, the Colonel took my hand and brought the rod up to my nose. Hit that he said and you’ll only ever do it the once. The advice worked but just when I thought I was beginning to master the technique I was told to change hands and learn to cast with my left.

Ibstone watermark

The Colonel’s abode

After two hours the Colonel began to meander across the lawn in front of me. Without warning, he grabbed hold of the end of the line. “What’s happened now?” It took me a moment to realise I’d caught a fish! With great agility for his age he ploughed off upstream, swam across a deep pool, plunged below low, hanging branches and all the time shouting instructions. “Keep the rod high, let the tip take the strain, lower it quickly…” In those few minutes I’d once again been transported north of the Great Glen and felt the exhilaration of catching my first salmon.

Trout x 5 watermark

River trout just waiting to be caught!

“Must be time for a celebration whisky.” Back in the snug the conversation turned to ‘real river’ fishing and then to shooting. Fishing and shooting go together I was told. I confessed that I’d never tried. The Colonel looked delighted. “Good. Next time you call I’ll teach you to bring down some clays.”

Advertisements

Far from the Madd(en)ing Crowd

The title of this blog is actually rather a misnomer for the picturesque village of East Hendred is, in reality, quite close to both London and Oxford.  Nestling at the foot of the Berkshire Downs, its charm and ancient houses give it the appearance of a place far from civilisation and today’s frenetic pace of life.

East Hendred (13) copyright

East Hendred (9) copyright

A traditional English village centres around the ‘big house,’ the pub and the church and East Hendred can boast that its manor has been owned by the same family, the Eystons, for over six hundred years.  It has three pubs thereby bucking the trend in recent years of the many pub closures elsewhere that often sees the social heart of a community destroyed.East Hendred (18) copyright

East Hendred (2) copyright

There has been a village shop for very many years for a book published in 1922 (English Country Life & Work by  Ernest C. Pulbrook) shows it in a photograph.  Today, the shop is still “thriving and well-accustomed” although it is doubtful if it now sells the wooden hay rakes that are lined up outside on the early photo!  The building has remained unchanged over the years although the village changed allegiance in 1974 and is now in the county of Oxfordshire.  The shop is easily recognisable in my photograph as being at the far end of the row.East Hendred (1) copyright

East Hendred 1(a)

The church, dedicated to St Augustine of Canterbury, dates from the late twelfth century although its tower is later, built around 1450.  East Hendred (17) copyright

East Hendred (21) copyright

At the other end of the village is the former Chapel of Jesus of Bethlehem also built around 1450 by Carthusian monks.  Now known as Champs Chapel, it houses a small museum dedicated to the history of the village.  It is opened and maintained by volunteers.

East Hendred (6) copyright

Despite its historic past, the parish of East Hendred which is crossed by the ancient Ridgeway path (now a National Trail) is also firmly fixed in the modern day for it also houses the Harwell Science and Innovation Centre where the Diamond Syncrotron Facility is located.

East Hendred (16) copyright

 

Guiting Power, a Cotswold village

The Cotswolds (Cotswold Hills) are fortunate in having very many attractive stone built villages, protected by its AONB (Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty) designation.  One such place, and a little off the beaten track so not as well visited as some of its more famous neighbours, is Guiting Power.

guiting-power-2-copyright

A visit during the week, when most others are working, is like stepping back to a time when life was much slower and with fewer cars and people.  The village has a population of 300 and also lies on the Wardens’ Way, a fourteen mile footpath, but even during the busiest of times it is hardly bustling.  Linking with other public paths it is possible to make a circular walk centred on the village.

guiting-power-3-copyright

As well as for the building of modest cottages, the soft Cotswold stone is used everywhere – to enclose fields, to create stiles, churches, barns, pubs and the grand houses of the wealthy.

guiting-power-stone-stile-copyrightguiting-power-cotswold-barn-copyright

If long country walks aren’t your thing, there’s still plenty of things to do and see.  The church dates from the twelfth century and has the foundations of an earlier one nearby.  Sudeley Castle, near Winchcombe is just a few miles away.  Within the village, The Farmer’s Arms pub offers traditional beers and skittles; just outside the village The Hollow Bottom is a pub popular with the horse racing fraternity.   The Old Post Office, as well as continuing in its traditional role is also now a thriving coffee shop  For almost fifty years the village has hosted an annual music festival.  Adam Henson’s Cotswold Farm Park is also close by.
guiting-power-5-copyrightguiting-power-copyright

Useful links:
How to get there

The Wardens’ Way Footpath

The Hollow Bottom Pub with rooms

The Old Post Office

Guiting Music Festival

Sudeley Castle

Adam Henson’s Cotswold Farm Park

The Year in Review: January – June 2016

As always the year has flown by to leave us with much uncertainty and sadness in the world.  Fortunately, life in the secret valley continues pretty much the same – it is easy to find relief from everyday stresses when surrounded by unspoilt countryside.  Rarely does a day pass when I don’t count my blessings for having had a rural upbringing and the opportunity to continue to live and work in such beautiful surroundings.frost-4-copyright

However, I am no hermit and I enjoy visiting other places – even cities!  One city I loved when I visited it some years ago was Stockholm, the capital of Sweden and I began the blogging year with a post about the Skansen open air museum.  Skansen was the first tomove and preserve traditional, threatened buildings; it was founded as early as 1873.  As well as buildings it also houses a zoo, concentrating on breeding native wildlife for reintroduction schemes including the European Bison which had become extinct in the wild.  To see more of the buildings click on the link here.8  Sweden. Skansen   copyright13 Sweden.  Skansen   copyright

Exmoor is a second home to me and features regularly on my blog.  In March, with some misgivings – for why would I want to share such a magical place – I took readers on my favourite walk, one that wouldn’t be found in any guide book.  The walk encompasses all that is best on Exmoor: open heather moorland, deep wooded combes, rushing streams and traditional pubs.  It also passed the door of the hill farm where I turned up as a lad looking for work after leaving school.  I was taken in and cared for – and made to work hard – and, well read the story by clicking on the link here.Above Brendon Barton (2)   copyrightLil @ Brendon Barton 1968   copyright

April saw me back on the Continent (as we Brits call Europe).  This time in the south of France visiting the ancient town of Lombez.  It is far from the tourist routes and we discovered it quite by chance.  With its ancient, timbered buildings and wonderful, brick built cathedral it deserved a longer visit than we were able to give it.  An excuse for a return trip, perhaps?  In the meantime, you can visit it by clicking on this link here.Lombez (22)   copyrightLombez (4)   copyright

If April saw us travelling slowly through France, May saw us travel at an even slower pace – by longboat on the Oxford Canal.  Passing through traditional buttercup meadows – we were miles from the city of Oxford – and in glorious sunshine it was the perfect way to relax as well as to see the wildlife that seemed oblivious to our passing.    Click on the link here to see more.016   copyright076   copyright

Our native butterflies struggle to thrive but I have been fortunate in living in places where they prosper reasonably well.  As a gardener, (both my hobby and my profession), I probably see more than most and in June I wrote about the species that visit gardens.  See how many you can identify  in your own garden by clicking on the link here and don’t forget to record them with your local conservation trusts or online.Comma Butterfly (2)   copyright

2017 may well prove to be a year that none of us forget too easily.  Travel abroad or in the countryside – and the British countryside is second to none – always helps to refresh the spirits.  I have numerous plans for the year ahead and hope that you will be joining me month by month.  In the meantime, the review of the second half of this year will follow shortly and don’t forget that images of the Cotswolds and other places I visit are updated regularly on my Facebook page and on Flickr.  You can also find me on Twitter @johnshortlandwra typical Cotswold scene   copyright

 

France in the Slow Lane

Everything about the compact town of Lombez oozes history and Gallic charm; its narrow streets are lined with ancient buildings. Discovering it as we did by chance confirms the principle of always taking the slow route – drive along motorways and you miss so much.

Lombez (21)   copyright

Walking through Lombez takes you back to a time when life too was slower; amongst its buildings are images that conjure up the France portrayed by the great artists – rich colours, faded paintwork, closed shutters keeping out hot sunshine.Lombez (22)   copyright.jpg

Dominating the town, the pink and white octagonal bell tower of the fourteenth century cathedral is in ornate contrast to the austere façade of the brick built body of the church. The severity of the style accentuates its height and gives no hint of its splendid interior.

Lombez (4)   copyright.jpgLombez (18)   copyright.jpg

Fine stained glass, some dating back to the 1400s, marble altars, decorative carvings and statues all demand careful exploration and give good reason to linger inside away from the summer heat.

Lombez (10)   copyrightLombez (16)   copyright.jpg

The cathedral is a listed monument historique and preservation work of the exterior was being carried out during our visit. With such an ancient building, work is on-going and there are areas of the interior that still have to be restored, although they do have a special charm and serenity about them that may be lost when renovated.Lombez (11)   copyright.jpg

Stepping back outside, the sun appears to be even brighter than before and gives an excuse to find a bistro for a cold beer. Unlike the UK, where bars and coffee shops crowd the pavements to draw in the visitors, outside the cathedral there are few signs of life and very little traffic. This part of France remains true to its laid-back style and does not woo the tourist: when in Lombez behave like a native – stay calm, slow down, relax.Lombez (6)   copyright.jpg

Lombez is in the Gers region of southwest France, 55km west of Toulouse and within sight of the Pyrenees Mountains.

A Hidden Exmoor Walk

I have misgivings about sharing this walk for it is a favourite of mine: in the 48 years that I have known it I have rarely met anyone other than those that work the land here. Do I want to encourage others to discover its beauty? I’m not sure.

This circular walk begins with the open expanses of Brendon Common but follows more sheltered winding lanes before descending through beech woodland to Rockford and the East Lyn River. A steep climb past Brendon church returns you to the moor. How long does it take? There’s no easy answer to this – allow two hours although experience tells me there are so many distractions along the way, including the Rockford Inn, that it can take much, much longer. Whether you want a quick sprint or a leisurely amble good supportive footwear is essential as is the ability to climb hefty hills.

Brendon Common (14)   copyright

Brendon Common

 

There is plentiful parking at Scobhill Gate, the cattle grid on the B3223 that denotes the westernmost boundary of Brendon Common. From here walks radiate across the 2000 acres of heather moorland but our route takes us over the cattle grid into farmed country and turns right by the hairpin bends at Brendon Manor Stables.

Scob Hill Gate   copyright.jpg

Scobhill Gate

 

After a few hundred yards the road, which is flanked by hedges of hazel, ash, furze, bramble and bilberry (known locally as wurts), meets Gratton Lane. This is very much ‘home’ territory for me, for it is here at Brendon Barton that I arrived as a lad to work and play in 1968. Opposite the farm there are fine views of Brendon church and in the far distance Countisbury Common and the sea.

Lil @ Brendon Barton 1968   copyright

Brendon Barton 1968

Brendon Church 1968 (2)   copyright.jpg

 

Walking along Gratton Lane is lovely at any time of the year but is at its best in spring when the beech hedges are bursting into leaf and primroses and bluebells nestle at their feet. These banks are an ancient method of providing shelter, as well as a barrier to livestock, from the fierce gales and snowstorms that sweep in from the Atlantic. The banks stand about five feet in height, lined with stone with the beech planted above.

Above Brendon Barton (2)   copyright.jpg

Gratton Lane

 

Just as the lane starts to descend it enters woodland and it is here – just past the warning sign denoting the ford that crosses the road – that a footpath is taken to the left. The path follows a pretty stream as it tumbles over rocks down to join the East Lyn River. It is here that the unwary walker can also take a tumble as the path crosses outcrops of rock that become quite slippery when damp. This stream has everything a larger one would have – cascades, waterslides, ferns growing from niches – but all in miniature. Despite its diminutive size it once powered a sawmill.Waterfalls (2)   copyright.jpg

The mill has long been a ruin and is now fenced for safety but the rusting ironwork is still visible. Just beyond the old building the path joins the road. Turn left and follow the lane to the hamlet of Rockford. You are now walking in the Brendon valley with its beechwoods clinging to the steep hills high above, home to a number of rare rowan trees (Sorbus) unique to the area.  The East Lyn River is a major river; when water levels are low it is difficult to imagine its ferocity when in spate. In 1952 it destroyed bridges, houses and lives as it passed through the valley culminating in the flood disaster at Lynmouth where thirty-four people lost their lives and over one hundred houses were destroyed. The Rockford Inn is a good place to stop for a beer; they also serve cream teas. Just make sure that you put the cream on the scone before the jam in the Exmoor tradition! It is possible to extend the walk to Watersmeet (where there is a National Trust tearoom) by crossing the river.

ROCKFORD MILL   copyright.jpg

The Old Mill nr Rockford

 

East Lyn River (2)  copyright.jpg

East Lyn River

 

Once past Rockford the road starts to climb until it reaches Brendon church. The hill is a killer – it’s not called Church Steep for nothing! The church which nestles into the hill and looks out across the combes looks as if it has been there for centuries. In reality, it was moved stone by stone from nearby Cheriton in 1738. It is simply decorated inside but has some attractive stained glass. Brendon Barton, passed earlier, can be seen from the steps of the church. Follow the lane back to the farm; from there retrace the original route back to Scobhill Gate.

Brendon Church (5)   copyright.jpg

Brendon Barton (2)   copyright.jpg

Brendon Barton, view from the church

 

Happy walking!

 

Exmoor is a National Park in the southwest of England and straddles the counties of Devon and Somerset. Apart from miles of wonderful moorland walks, it also has the highest sea cliffs in England, pretty villages and spectacular wildlife including the majestic Red Deer. Native Exmoor ponies roam the open moor. Now a rare breed they remain virtually unchanged from pre-history.

 

SKANSEN – Sweden’s Pioneering Conservation Village

The Swedes have always had a reputation for innovation and design and so it is not surprising that Stockholm is home to the world’s first open air museum founded by Artur Hazelius. The surprise is that it opened as early as 1873.   When he opened his second open air museum, Skansen, on the nearby island of Djurgården it was the first to incorporate a zoo.

8  Sweden. Skansen   copyright.jpg

From its earliest days, the aim of Skansen was to preserve Sweden’s rapidly changing rural way of life. One hundred and fifty buildings were purchased, dismantled and rebuilt and over the years more buildings have been added; the museum now has a complete nineteenth century township as well as buildings of the Sami peoples of the north.

The zoo specialises in native Scandinavian animals, both wild and farm, and by 1918 held the few remaining European Bison that had been reduced to extinction in the wild. Since then, a breeding programme has seen them successfully reintroduced to Polish and Romanian forests.

Wolf  copyright .jpg

Wolf at Skansen

 

Vakt Stugan – literally translated ‘Guard Room’ was one of the original buildings purchased in 1891 and placed by the entrance to the museum. It dates from the 1880s and is used as an information centre.

10  Sweden.  Skansen   copyright.jpg

True to its origins, farm buildings, many with traditional living roofs feature throughout the museum. The oldest dates back to the fourteenth century.

11 Sweden.  Skansen   copyright.jpg

12 Sweden.  Skansen   copyright.jpg

A village would not be complete without its church and manor house and Skansen has several examples. Seglora church dates from the early 1700s, made entirely of wood came from the western provence of Västergötland. It is still in regular use for services as well as weddings and christenings.  Skogaholm Manor built in 1680 developed into a sizeable mansion with beautifully painted ceilings and wall decorations. The kitchens and library are equally well preserved.

13 Sweden.  Skansen   copyright.jpg

Seglora Church, Skansen

 

Skansen is open to the public all year round with numerous events to help illustrate the story of the buildings and the people that lived in them. Details of admission times and other information can be found here. To see photographs of the interior of Skogaholm Manor click here.

14 Sweden.  Skansen   copyright

Skogaholm Manor, Skansen

Aurignac – 40,000 Years of History

The small town of Aurignac – situated in the Petites Pyrénées of southwest France – was so sleepy when I stumbled across it that it is hard to believe that it has given its name to the so-called ‘first modern’ man to appear in Europe. Aurignac (2) copyright

The Aurignacian culture spread across most of Europe and much of southwest Asia. The first human bones were found in a cave close to Aurignac in 1852. Aurignacian Man produced some of the earliest art – a small figurine known as the Venus of Hohle Fels is the first figurative human form ever to be found. Perhaps their culture is best known for the cave paintings of animals discovered in the Ardèche region of France as recently as 1994.

Paintings_from_the_Chauvet_cave_(museum_replica)

Source: Wikimedia Commons

However, all this was unknown to me at the time – I was looking for somewhere to lunch. The search for a café led me to explore some of the back lanes of the town which revealed wonderful old houses, some half-timbered and dating back to the eighteenth century and earlier.

Aurignac (5) copyright

As with many buildings in the region, their beauty was enhanced by the decorative ironwork, often rusting, their paint bleached by decades of hot sun. One old building was derelict and a glimpse inside gave an impression of what it once might have looked like.

Aurignac (4)   copyright

Aurignac (19)   copyright

The oldest part of the town is surrounded by 700 year old fortified walls, some of which had houses built into them in the fifteenth century. The communal area for clothes washing, the lavoir, has been lovingly maintained.Aurignac (15)   copyright

Aurignac (7)   copyright

The ruins of a castle destroyed by Henry IV around 1615 during one of the many wars between England and France is open to the public. The keep or donjon is well preserved and it is possible to climb to the top to admire the panoramic views.Aurignac (23)   copyrightAurignac (25)   copyright

Also built within the old walls is the church with its ancient façade. This is an addition to the church: it was salvaged from a chapel demolished during the revolution and placed there in 1791. The church itself is of unknown date but predates the thirteenth century walls.

Aurignac (9)   copyrightAurignac (11)   copyright

Sadly, I only had an hour to explore – a day probably would not be long enough.Aurignac (20)   copyright

A Celtic Church on Exmoor

Exford lays claim to the title of ‘Capital of Exmoor’ owing to its central location (one assumes) in Exmoor National Park. It certainly has more facilities than most others of similar size – a village green, a post office, two shops and a garage, although the days when it sold petrol pumped by hand have long passed.Exford - St Mary Magdalene   copyright

The church of St Mary Magdalene pre-dates the Norman Conquest of 1066 and, unlike much of England, originates from the Celtic tradition brought from Wales or possibly Ireland. Centuries ago, much of Exmoor’s trade and travel links were by sea, the Welsh coast being only a few miles across the Bristol Channel; journeys overland were fraught with difficulty and danger.

Exford - St Mary Magdalene (13)   copyright

During the twelfth century mass was said by monks from Neath Abbey, giving another Welsh connection. As a Celtic church it was dedicated to St Salvyn although at an unknown later date it was rededicated to St Mary Magdalene. The east window depicts St Salvyn with St George and St Francis.

St Salvyn depicted in the left panel of the east window

St Salvyn depicted in the left panel of the east window

Despite its ancient origins the earliest part of the church still standing – the tower – only dates from the mid-1400s. It has a fine set of bells. The south aisle was built around 1532.

Exford - St Mary Magdalene (5)   copyright

The exquisitely carved rood screen dates from the fifteenth century and has a rather remarkable recent history. Discarded when the church of St Audries at nearby Watchet was rebuilt, it was rediscovered in the early 1900s in pieces in an old hay barn. It was beautifully restored and placed in Exford.

Exford - St Mary Magdalene (4)   copyright

Close to the entrance gate of the churchyard stands the memorial to Amos Cann, a young man who froze to death walking home one night in the extreme winter of 1891. His body was found some three weeks later.

click on image to enlarge

click on image to enlarge

Castleyons – an Irish Gem

The small village of Castlelyons in Co. Cork, Ireland appeared deserted when we drove into it and as we seemed to be the only car on the road there was no fear of being run over when taking the photo below. As if to confirm its silence the main street was dominated by the ruins of an old Carmelite abbey.Castlelyons   copyrightCastlelyons (2)   copyright

Little is known of the origins of the abbey for there are few surviving written records. It is thought that it dates from the beginning of the 14th century although the existing ruins are from a hundred years later.

Castlelyons (5)   copyright

The size of the nave is huge measuring over sixty feet in length and twenty in width. It is separated from the chancel by the tower which although very ruined still has its complete spiral staircase which can be climbed – but not for the faint-hearted. The chancel which is also very large (over fifty feet in length) is where the altar would have been placed. A number of grave slabs survive some of which still have visible markings.Castlelyons (7)   copyright

Castlelyons (9)   copyright

The cloister, where the monks walked and meditated, is less complete but the turf square and parts of columns gives a sense of the place. The monastery was dissolved during the Reformation and passed into private hands. Now it is a national monument.Castlelyons (12)   copyright

A mile or two from the abbey ruins is the Castlelyons Graveyard at Kill-St-Anne. At its centre is a mausoleum built about 1747. The interior is circular with just one marble monument to James Barry, Earl of Barrymore and carved in 1753. External steps lead to a crypt below.

Castlelyons (19)   copyright

Castlelyons (22)   copyright

Close to the first lies a second mausoleum, also built in the eighteenth century, for the Peard family, local landlords. Their earliest grave (dated 1683) lies elsewhere in the churchyard and commemorates Richard Peard, an ensign from Devonshire in England.Castlelyons (20)   copyright

The church – or more accurately churches – lie in ruins for a more recent one was built within the original. They date from the eighteenth and fourteenth centuries respectively. The remains of the bell tower and gothic arches are from the earlier date, the elaborate stone window which are in the later ruins are reputed to have belonged to the original church. Whatever the truth of this tale, the result is beautiful and romantic.Castlelyons (23)   copyright

The churchyard is a haven for wildlife and native flowers flourish beside mown paths. Beside the old cemetery is another, newer one still in use and equally well-maintained as were the old abbey ruins and the village itself. Castlelyons maybe off the beaten track but it is well worth making the effort to visit. It is rural Ireland at its very best.

Castlelyons (24)   copyright

Much information has been gleaned from information boards within the village and also the Castlelyons village website – link here. Apart from details of its history the website shows that despite its small size, the village social life is thriving.