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Day 6
Kinsale Town - Reagan
This whole island is basically lousy with history - something important seems to have happened on every square inch of ground here. It's a little overwhelming, but sometimes there are moments where it crystallizes.
As we were writing some postcards today, we started to talk with Tom, the proprietor of the B&B we were staying at. He pointed out the high wall just behind his house, telling us it was the old Kinsale Town wall, the very same wall that James the Second left from when he fled to France in the late 1600's. That's a story I've heard many times, in songs, books, and oral history, so I needed a closer look.
Jen and I climbed the stairs, stopping briefly at a B&B that was just below the wall, but there was no good access. We climbed up to the street above, and over Jen's vociferous objections, I began to look for a way back to the wall. There were several houses that looked empty, but their backyards ended in a fence before the wall. Finally, the very last house on the street had a clear path all the way back. Reluctantly, Jen followed me into the back yard past the house and too my picture standing on the wall. As we got ready to swap and take her picture an old man appeared.
"What're ya taking pictures of?" he asked. I told him, and the then asked me why we hadn't knocked to ask permission. I told him, mostly truthfully, that we had thought there was no one home from whom to ask permission. I apologized and he softened a little, asking "Would ya do that in America?" Hedging, I said that it would depend, but generally no, I would not. "You're in Paddy's land, now", he said.
He asked why we wanted pictures of the wall, and I told him we'd heard that this was the old Kinsale city wall that James the second had left from. "City?" he asked. "Well, town" I replied. "Aye", he said with a sparkle in his eye, "you're amateurs at this." After apologizing again, we left, but we had the picture we wanted, and a great story to boot.