Medb’s Tomb, Knocknarea Hill, County Sligo

“Queen of the invisible host, who sleeps high up on Knocknarea, in an old cairn of stones” W.B Yeats

In the immortal words of Sligo native W.B Yeats, atop Knocknarea hill you will find this fairy queen’s cairn, but best visit Medb in the day to avoid her fairy strey.

Approaching Medb’s Tomb from the Glen road Carpark

Yes, indeed, leaving this imposing site to take one of its many similar trails, it is easy to get turned around. Better to leave before dusk, because when darkness falls and fog rolls in, you’ll be glad you left when you did. Best to be back in the comfort of your warm living room, curled in front of the open fire with a hot drink and a page turner close to hand.

Medb’s tomb is a monumental cairn located in west Sligo at the top of Knocknarea hill. Judging by its placement and those of the surrounding smaller ones, Knocknarea Hill was clearly a site of great importance to its Neolithic builders. A place where their earth met the heavens.

This site was sacred to people of the time - and no doubt a place where rituals and other ceremonies were performed, in which large gatherings of the local population would likely have taken part in.

These cairns are much more than just burial mounds. They would have represented a stake to the land, and from the perspective of an outsider’s approach, the dominance their builders held over it.

The great cairn is the focal point of the hill’s monuments and is estimated by archaeologists to have been constructed around 3,400 BC, a few centuries before Newgrange and other Brú na Bóinne sites, while its smaller satellite cairns may have been built 200 years earlier.

The later burial of an iron age warrior queen, adds further importance of this site on the surrounding landscape and to the people who built it, further solidified its place in Irish history and mythology.

This cairn is believed by many historians to be the final resting place of a real-life 1st century queen. Roughly 56 metres in diameter and comprising of approximately 40,000 metric tonnes of limestone, this imposing site looms large above the surrounding landscape.

Since it has never been excavated it is anyone’s guess to the potential passageways which may lie beneath, however, given its similarity to other megalithic mounds of the era, it’s likely to house a cruciform passage. It is further speculated that somewhere inside, the queen may have been buried upright, to face her enemies, such was the tradition of the time.

As west Ireland’s largest megalithic cairn, only slightly smaller in scale to the behemoths of the Boyne valley, and Ireland’s most visually dominating Neolithic monument, it is well worth a visit. Not only the for the sake of this majestic site but also for the stunning views of the surrounding landscape. The vantage point from Knocknarea hill directly overlooks the Strandhill Beach, Sligo bay, and the coastline beyond, and offers sweeping views of the county’s countryside, including the plateau of its famous Benbulben table mountain.

View of Benbulbin from Knocknarea Hill

Large boulder near the site of the major cairn

Information board at the foot of the site

Oweynagat

The Cave of the Cats (Photography courtesy of Laeg Winder)

This site will always hold a special place in my mind, having inspired my story, Deep Waters.

Oweynagat, the Cave of the Cats, also known as Ireland’s gate to hell lies in the ancient townland of Rathcroghan, county Roscommon, where the Connacht royals and their armies once gathered. A region filled with ancient heritage sites scattered throughout its locality. As the Irish landscape goes, I cannot think of anywhere else more steeped in mythology.

Ogham stone lintel as seen from within

The cave is synonymous with legendary figures including the Mórrígan, the Irish goddess of War, Queen Medb of Connacht, warrior champions such as Cú Chulainn, and shares strong bonds with Halloween.

The Mórrígan, a Celtic Goddess who can take the form of multiple beings, features in the Ulster Cycles’ Táin Bó Cúailnge. This story, often called the Táin, tells of Connacht’s Queen Medb’s attempts to capture the King of Ulster’s prize bull. During the conflict which ensues, the Mórrígan appears as a beautiful woman who tries to seduce Cú Chulainn, but rages against him when he rejects her advances, by attacking him as an eel, a wolf, and then a heifer, but each time is defeated.

The ancient Irish Celts, or Gaels, considered the cave to be the Mórrígan’s realm. They viewed it as a portal to the otherworld, the home of the Tuath Dé Danann, a race of supernatural beings who live there following the war between them and the mortal Milesians, the Gaels ancestors.

Ogham text, a type of linear etching, and Ireland’s earliest written language, carved on a lintel of the souterrain, near the cave’s entrance references Fráoch, son of Medb. In the Táin, Fráoch, a warrior renowned for his good looks, marries one of Medb’s daughters, so in this case son may more loosely signify son-in-law.

A shorter, precursory tale to the Táin, Fled Bricrenn (Briciu’s Feast), pits three Ulster champions against each other, and has their bravery tested by spending a single night inside the cave. During their stay, otherworldly wild cats besiege the warriors with all but Cú Chulainn succumbing to their terror.

It is claimed by some Irish historians that Oweynagat is the birthplace of Oíche Samhain, or Halloween, as we now know it. The idea of the cave as a portal to the world of the semi-divine ties in with the end of harvest Celtic belief that the barriers between the two worlds were at their weakest. They thought that during this time, the magical beings on the other side could cross over to our world. Later, Christian monks would view the cave as Ireland’s gate to hell, which they referred to it as, in their book, the Leinster manuscript.

Inside Darkness Prevails (Photography courtesy of Laeg Winder)

 The cave is formed from limestone, with moon calcite deposits on the walls inside. The manmade entrance passage is dry stone (built without mortar), and thought to have been added during the Middle Ages. Its opening, like the rest of the souterrain, is a small, low crawl space. The Ogham stone referencing Medb and Fríoach, which acts as one of its lintels is located near the entrance. 

The artificial passage runs for 3 meters before taking a sharp left turn into a second souterrain. Here, another Ogham stone lintel is located. Archaeologists believe the original builders took the Ogham stones from elsewhere and repurposed them as entrance feature. After another few meters, the passage opens out into a natural, roughly horizontal cave. This part of the cave is approximately 37 meters long. It dips roughly 7 meters below ground level at its lowest point into a muddy central bowl, before rising and levelling out to meet a collapsed end. Inside, the natural part of the cave is tall and narrow, with its sides only the arm span of a man or less for much of it. Towards the end of the passage, it tapers inwards to less than the shoulder width of a grown adult.

Despite its modest dimensions compared with some of Ireland’s more famous caves, Danann only knows how great the size of the Otherworld it leads to is.

Current Gaurdian of the Cave

The Rathcroghan heritage centre in the nearby town of Tulsk offer a comprehensive guided tour of the cave, so if you are planning to pay it a visit, it is best to book with them first.

The State of the Art

“May you live in interesting times” (Old Chinese Proverb)
This was never meant as a greeting or gesture of goodwill.
The implication here is that you live in times of turmoil and uncertainty, so it’s more of a curse if anything.
We live in times of great change. Continued advances in medicine and technology positively impact the lives of so many globally, it would be hard to argue otherwise. Of course, there will be downsides to new tech, and life-enhancing developments will aways come with their own set of responsibilities.

The rise of AI and automation is no different. These emerging technologies can do many of the tasks we do today, and no doubt even more tomorrow.

On the surface, this is good news, it means people will no longer need to do the dull, dangerous or dirty jobs they once did. These advancements should afford us more time to pursue other interests, in theory, at least. Take the humble domestic washing machine, how much more time did it take to hand wash clothes in the days before, and how many extra minutes of free time have since been transferred to the user, this is basic maths.

There is a growing fear in the public psyche that AI and robotics will displace the jobs market and replace the human worker, and the fruits of their applications will only be enjoyed by the business owner. These are just concerns but are solvable by policymakers if acted on in time.

It is easy to find tech gurus on social media warning of the threats of runaway AI. It is a topic I don’t have enough information to have an informed opinion on. This is for the experts to figure out, not something to keep me awake at night. What worries me, is our over dependency on these technologies.

It is tempting to pass everything we do to the machine, including our creativity and storytelling. But to do this, in my mind is to hand over our autonomy, and forfeit a connection with ourselves and each other. A connection to the past and the places we come from, the things which make us human. So, let’s not give up on ourselves, it is up to us to write the pages in our next chapter.

We may never know how valuable these connections are. The chat a freshly brewed coffee brings, or the hushed whispers in a quiet corner over a couple of drinks. We should cherish these conversations and the moments we share.

Yes, the machine can mimic with the right algorithms, but it will never create from the human experience. Let us not forget this, lest we forget what it is to be human. Unless you want it to read you its bedtime story, and maybe one day tuck you in too.

The Witch’s Chair - Cathaoir na Cailleach

Perched atop a wind-swept hill in Loughcrew, you will see the witch’s seat. Constructed from great slabs of limestone, it is one of many sacred sites in royal Meath, home county of the now long-dead high kings. Here, the witch would sit looking across the landscape, conniving to take control of all she saw.

Her character may be derived from Buí, an earlier celtic goddess. Buí was a lunar deity, associated with the Boyne Valley, also in Meath, or Brú na Bóinne its Gaelic name. She is the goddess believed to have shaped Loughcrew and the land beyond.

The witch is said to have attempted a mighty spell to gain power over her surroundings. Jumping from one hilltop to another, she scattered great boulders from her apron to perform the ritual. However, this would also be her downfall, as according to local lore she misjudged her final jump and fell to her death at Loughcrew. Legend has it that she is buried under the dominant cairn T near her seat, and if you sit on the witch’s chair and make a wish, whatever you ask will be granted.

In Castleboy of Royal Meath . . .

You will find the hill of Tara, the coronation site of Ireland’s ancient high kings. It is only a short drive from Dubin, roughly 40 km from the city’s centre. Standing proudly near its crest is the Lia Fáil, the stone of destiny or speaking stone. This one-metre-tall sandstone orthostat holds a special place in Ireland’s history and lore. This stone is considered one of the four magical treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann, a mythical tribe of semi-devine people. Legend has it that the Tuatha Dé Danann were driven underground by the Milesians, another mythical race. Some say the entrance to their world can be accessed through the burial mounds that dot the Irish landscape.

According to historians, going back thousands of years, the Lia Fail was thought to have lain flat. Back then, those wishing to claim the crown would take turns to test their worth by standing on the stone which was said to cry out when the rightful king rested his feet on it.

Other accounts have the would-be kings leaping over it, but the result was always the same, the stone calls out when the true king passes over it.

Some speculate that the stone was lent to the Scots and brought to Dalriada, the ancient Scottish kingdom for the same purpose. However, such speculation may be a mix-up with the stone of scone, Scotland’s coronation stone.

The only thing we can know for sure is that up to the time of King Murtagh MacEirc, the Lia Fáil always cried out with joy when the rightful king was near.

 Close by, is the mound of the hostages, an ancient burial cairn built in the style of the majestic Newgrange passage tomb. The mound is estimated to have been constructed around three thousand years ago. Inside its passage chamber, hundreds of cremated bodies were laid to rest, with flat stones repeatedly placed over centuries of ashes, creating generational layers during its usage. The remains of an adolescent’s body and its belongings, from the bronze age, the later part of the mound’s active era, were also excavated by archaeologists.

The tip of the mound is the highest point of the hill, and the passage grave is believed to have been given its name during medieval times because this is where the symbolic exchange of hostages took place.

The mound’s entrance is aligned with the rising sun, so it is illuminated on the mornings of the Gaelic festivals Imbolc, the start of spring, and Samhain, the beginning of winter. Inside, siltstones are covered with spirals and other decorations, sadly, due to preservation and safety concerns the passage is no longer accessible. Despite this, not needing to dip one’s hand in their pocket makes the Hill of Tara a worthy visit indeed.

Welcome - Failte Romhat - Bienvenue

Welcome to my blog, here you will find updates on my debut novel, Deep Waters. I also plan to use this space to document my trips to ancient Irish sites and include brief accounts of the legends attached to these mysterious structures.

It is a place where I can share my thoughts on writing in the age of AI and Tiktok.