 Rock of Cashel is a place I visited during my 2022 trip to Ireland with my ex-partner. I wasn't familiar with the place, and we visited it on our way back from Cork. My ex made a stop there because she said Rock of Cashel was worth seeing. The road we took to get there was mostly surrounded by green countryside, but the rock's elevated position became apparent even before we entered the small village where it was located. We parked practically at the foot of Rock of Cashel, and after a few steps, we were faced with what looked like a stone castle built atop a white rock. This rock formed terraced paths interspersed with greenery; it was a strange effect, combining the dryness of the rock with the vitality of the vigorous grass. On the left side of this imposing structure was a sort of entrance, but unfortunately, we discovered that visiting hours had been closed. We had arrived a few hours late and were unable to visit the castle; I noticed a particular disappointment in my ex, who was clearly very keen to show me the place. Despite this inconvenience, she led the way along the side of the rock, right at the foot of the large wall, and walking along the paths, we reached one of the outermost points outside the surrounding wall. From there, a beautiful view opened up over an immense green meadow, its uniformity disturbed only by a strip of trees and a road to the right. From that far point, the view of the castle was lost, as it remained hidden by the wall, so from a scene that gave the impression of being dominated, one shifted to one that was more intimate and gave the impression of a hideaway. In fact, that part was very evocative and I believe it was used by couples who first went there for the romanticism of the view and then mated protected by the surrounding wall, which kept them hidden and far from the village. Personally, I couldn't understand what I'd missed by not visiting the castle, but I was still happy to have walked those paths and seen that evocative view. The paths, in particular, took me back to my childhood because they were very similar to some in the hills near my house, which many years ago were cleared away to build two buildings that are simply hideous! Fate, however, was kind to me because several years ago, my family was able to purchase the hillside properties directly above those buildings. Today, I can look down on those hideous structures, but I will always miss those dirt paths and tall grass that I used to explore and that led me to the top of the hill.    View of Cashel from the rock   View of Hore Abbey from the rock Hore AbbeyMy ex, disappointed because she hadn't been able to show me the inside of the castle, had an idea to make up for the lack of exploration. Since we had time, she wanted to take me to another place nearby, but to get there we had to take the car. After a long detour around the castle and simultaneously descending the hill, we reached the valley and, after parking on the side of a narrow road, we set off to see Hore Abbey. A low wall outlined a large green area, with the remains of Hore Abbey, once a very large church, at its center. Between the entrance and the remains of the church, several cows were grazing, and it was fun to walk past them to reach Hore Abbey, because they looked at people strangely and made strange noises with their mouths. From the plain, the view opened up on one side toward the hill where Rock of Cashel stood, precisely the side not visible from the entrance, so even from afar, I could say I saw the castle, whose presence was nonetheless significant. Hore Abby, for its part, grew larger and more mysterious as we approached. Seeing those remains up close, where some very high stone walls still stood as if by divine sign, was truly remarkable. My impression was that the ruins hadn't followed a pattern of structural failure, but rather it seemed to me like a structure whose missing parts were more the result of targeted attacks, like those we see today in some war zones. In fact, what had literally disappeared from the structure was the roof, of which there was no trace, but it was strange to see perfectly stable walls and arches next to others that for some reason had collapsed or been knocked down. But the most beautiful experience was when I entered the structure; from that perspective, the grandeur of the perimeter was even more apparent. I felt tiny next to those tall walls, disproportionately small in front of a work that raised questions not only about how it had been destroyed but above all how it had been built. Although symmetrical, the structure was nevertheless composed of stones that were all irregularly shaped; it was difficult to see any identical bricks or stones. What amazed me most was the perfection of the arches, which still retained their finishing touches along the entire edge. I can't say whether the rest of the structure also had a finishing touch, but it's highly likely. However, today that rough wall with its irregular bricks had its own charm, because seeing a geometry emerge from an imperfection was undoubtedly an originality with a beautiful visual impact. Wandering from room to room and observing certain details, I noticed an inconsistency in the construction that led me to speculate. Many of the arches were always closed with those irregular bricks, and this anomaly, combined with details where some beams and pillars were precisely cut and perfectly symmetrical stone blocks, made me think of two different constructions. In my opinion, the original structure was composed of symmetrical blocks, which, as a result of some destructive event, later and less experienced civilizations rebuilt the structure with raw materials, creating a hybrid structure that the official narrative then explains in a fanciful manner and which it is forbidden to dispute. This theory of mine would explain the inconsistencies we see in many structures found in various archaeological sites, where there are many ruins of different styles and materials, such as Pompeii. Beyond this aspect, what initially left me a little perplexed was the almost abandoned condition in which Hore Abbey had been left. In reality, the structure was protected by a low wall and access was through a gate, which, however, remained open. It goes without saying that anyone could easily enter and do as they pleased, as evidenced by the presence of cows scattered across the field inside. I'm sure Hore Abbey didn't have any special protection or closures because the locals were civilized and non-aggressive, in a place that wasn't even particularly touristy. On the one hand, the structure, kept that way, was an example of how civilization could function when populated by people who respected their land and property, but on the other, Hore Abbey was a bit dangerous because it was still a structure in disrepair with no type of safety measures. Unlike what I saw in Jordan, where kids climbed the ruins of old temples, using them as an amusement park, this phenomenon was absent in Ireland. Instead, there was respect for areas like Hore Abbey, where access could have remained open because no one would encroach on the community's historic assets. Visiting Hore Abbey, besides introducing me to and appreciating a monument whose nature is controversial, also made me reflect on this human aspect, where still existed a community that, without forcing nature, left a historic site of undeniable charm and importance open and unattended. That was probably the most important lesson and reflection I learned during that visit, proof that there are places where people are simply human, whose very nature revolves around love rather than hate.             View of Rock of Cashel from Hore Abbey  A.M.
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