We didn't get bored, and we were very lucky in our choice of accommodation, but there weren't as many walks in the area as we had hoped. Still, it was a good base for Newgrange, and everyone we encountered was very friendly. More than one person must have talked to us for more than ten minutes, just from a chance encounter on the street, as soon as they heard our accents.
We took a fascinating walking tour in Drogheda from a tour guide named Kevin. He remarked that he was very glad we had come to the area, because "We need you to spend your lolly here." We said we were happy to do that, but we didn't have very much lolly [money]! He was working at the tourist office on an employment program because his business had declined significantly since the days when Ireland was called the Celtic Tiger for its economic power. But Ireland has still not recovered from the Great Recession, and the Celtic Tiger no longer has claws.
|This building in Drogheda has just been sitting since the economic collapase.|
Drogheda is a very old city. The Danes settled there in the 900s. Originally there were two towns on both sides of the River Boyne, but eventually they became one. The city still has remnants of its medieval walls and gates.
But the part of the walking tour I liked the most was the guide's stories in the graveyard of nearby St. Peter's Church of Ireland. Although the cemetery there is part of the Protestant church, every important person in the town wanted to be buried there, Protestant or Catholic, and so they were.
|Graveyard of St. Peter's Church of Ireland.|
|Cadaver stone in the churchyard. Is this any way to remember mom and dad?|
*I don't really know how to pronounce Drogheda, because even people who live there do not necessarily say it the same way. Padraig, our host, said, "Draw-HA-duh." A local we met at Newgrange said some thing more like "DRAW-duh." We simply said, "Draw-ha-duh" with a slightly longer accent on the first syllable and we got by.