We are a young country. When you head to almost anywhere but here everything is older. I was talking to a docent in a castle in Scotland whose home was built in the 14th Century. I thought my house was old and it wasn’t built until 1830. There are places in Europe that have been standing for so long I can hardly imagine.
I’ve been to Tintagel, the mythical seat of King Arthur.
I’ve stayed in Kinfauns Castle built just slightly earlier than my 1830s home.
I slept in the room on the far left, second floor and took glorious pictures of the sunrise. (I was in my twenties and never got up that early in my life!) Below my room, where the bigger windows are is a large ballroom where we were invited to learn Scottish Country dancing. I remember feeling wonderful there.
I grew up hearing my mother say “53 Lynches were mayors of Galway.” So I went there, even though there isn’t any evidence that the Lynches I’m related to were even remotely connected to the Irish, Galway Lynches. Then I read the history of Lynch Castle and I’m okay with not being related. But I stood outside the 16th century castle anyway, wondering if it was part of my heritage.
There is so much scope for imagination in old buildings, be they ruins or still standing. Oh and I haven’t even touched upon the …
To be continued.