Glendalough

Listen for a moment. Water runs somewhere close by, over stones, under the trees. The air is cool and smells of moss, wet bark and peat. Above you, steep slopes of oak and pine close in on both sides. This is Glendalough, in the heart of the Wicklow Mountains. The name comes from the Irish for the valley of the two lakes. For about fourteen hundred years, people have walked into this valley looking for something quieter than the world they left behind.

The story starts with one man. His name was Kevin, and he came here in the sixth century. Tradition says he was born into a noble family in Leinster, the province of eastern Ireland. He chose to live as a hermit instead. He wanted solitude, prayer, and hardship. So he came to this remote glacial valley, carved out long ago by moving ice, and he lived alone near the upper lake. But solitude did not last. Word spread, and followers came to find him.

Those followers built a monastery. Over the following centuries it grew into one of the great religious centres of early medieval Ireland. Picture it not as a single building, but as a small town. There were churches, workshops, guest houses, farms and graves. Monks copied manuscripts here. Students came to learn. Craftsmen worked metal and stone. Pilgrims arrived from across the island. Kevin himself, according to tradition, lived to a remarkable age and died in the early seventh century.

Now look ahead to the stone gateway. This is how visitors entered the monastic city, and you walk through it the same way today. It has two round arches, one behind the other. It is generally described as the only surviving gateway of an early Irish monastic site. Just inside, on the wall, look for a stone with a cross carved into it. That cross may have marked the edge of sanctuary. Beyond this point, people in trouble could seek protection under the church.

And then the round tower rises in front of you. It stands roughly thirty metres tall, built of mica schist and granite from the local hills. Here is a detail many visitors miss. The doorway is not at ground level. It sits several metres up the wall. Monks reached it with a ladder they could pull inside. These towers were bell towers, but they may also have served as lookouts and as safe stores for treasures. The conical cap you see today is not original. It was rebuilt in the nineteenth century, using stones found inside the tower.

That raised doorway made sense. Glendalough was wealthy, and wealth attracts raiders. Viking raiders attacked the monastery several times. Irish rivals did the same, because monasteries were also centres of power and land. Fire swept through the wooden buildings more than once. Each time, the community rebuilt. The stone structures you see today mostly date from the tenth to the twelfth centuries, a period when the monastery was still strong.

Walk on to the largest ruin, the cathedral. It is roofless now, and grass grows where monks once stood. Look closely at the walls. The lower stonework is made of large, rough blocks. Higher up, the masonry changes. This shows the building grew in stages over a long time. Nearby is the Priest's House, a small, low building with a carved Romanesque arch. Romanesque is the round-arched style of building common in Europe before the Gothic era.

Now find the small stone church with the steep roof and a tiny round belfry on top. Locals call it Saint Kevin's Kitchen. The nickname comes from that little belfry, which people thought looked like a chimney. Of course, nobody cooked here. It was a church. Its roof is made entirely of stone, held up by a clever hidden chamber between the ceiling and the outer roof. It has stood for many centuries, and it is one of the best preserved early church buildings in Ireland.

In the graveyard, look for Saint Kevin's Cross. It is a plain granite cross, about head height, with a solid ring around the head. The ring is not cut through, which suggests it may be unfinished. Locals say that if you can wrap your arms around the shaft and touch your fingertips together, your wish will come true. You will often see people trying. It is harder than it looks.

Glendalough also shaped later Irish history. In the twelfth century, a man named Laurence O'Toole became abbot here. He later became Archbishop of Dublin, and he is now a patron saint of that city. Soon after his time, power shifted. In the early thirteenth century, the diocese of Glendalough was joined to Dublin. Then, in the late fourteenth century, English forces attacked and destroyed much of the settlement. Yet pilgrims kept coming. People held a popular saying that seven visits to Glendalough were worth one visit to Rome.

Now follow the path west, along the Green Road, toward the upper lake. The walk is gentle and the woods are full of birdsong. Here, the valley narrows and the cliffs rise steeply above dark water. Kevin first lived out here, far from the later monastery. Above the lake, cut into the rock face, is a small cave known as Saint Kevin's Bed. It may be far older than Kevin, perhaps a tomb from prehistoric times. Tradition says he slept there. You can see it from the shore, but please do not try to reach it.

The legends of Kevin are gentle, and often about nature. One popular tale says Kevin was praying with his arms stretched out when a blackbird landed in his open hand. It began to build a nest there. Kevin, the story goes, stayed perfectly still until the eggs hatched and the young birds flew away. It is folklore, not history. But it tells you how people remembered him: patient, close to animals, at peace with this valley.

The upper valley holds a second, very different story. At the far end of the lake lie the remains of a nineteenth century mining village. Workers dug for lead and other minerals in these hills. Their stone ruins and spoil heaps of grey rock still mark the slopes. So this valley held both prayer and hard industrial labour. Today the whole area sits inside Wicklow Mountains National Park, and the long distance walking trail called the Wicklow Way passes through it.

Before you leave, stand still once more by the water. Look at the lake surface, at the dark trees, at the round tower rising above the treetops behind you. Monks heard this same water. Pilgrims felt this same cool air. As you walk back toward the gateway, notice how quiet it becomes between the ruins. Fourteen centuries later, Glendalough still offers what Kevin came here to find.