Once Upon a Castle

One thing I love about Europe in general and Ireland in particular is how you can just happen upon a castle. North America is sadly devoid of castles. We have mansions. I realize William Randolph Hearst built a mansion that he called a castle but he was a newspaper man not royalty. And as a reformed member of the media, I'd hate to think that anything we do gives us the ego to refer to our large-and-in-charge mansions as castles. If you're not born into royalty, you at least have to pillage and plunder to earn it. Hmm. Maybe Hearst deserved his castle.
But I digress. The point is, Mark and I headed out for a recommended walk along a river in Slaine not far from Newgrange.


We walked along the riverfront and marveled at the serene setting. We ate our picnic among the green rolling hills. We chatted amiably about where we might venture to after Ireland.
And then we happened upon a castle. I mean where else are you taking a stroll in the countryside and happen upon a real-life castle?


Okay, technically we did hop two fences. But only the second fence was wrapped with barbed wire and had a "do not trespass" sign. But even more technically I actually only hopped the first fence because I could see the castle fine from where I was.
Mark clearly wanted a better view. You can see from the big grin just how distraught he gets about ignoring barbed wire and signs. But we honestly hadn't set out with any breaking and entering plans or anything. We just wanted to get down to the riverfront for our walk... and we just happened upon the castle.
And how was I supposed to know that hopping a fence would just a few days later lead to willful trespassing of an abbey full of Benedictine nuns? Stay tuned for more on our afternoon of nun swindling. Thank goodness I'm a protestant.