Postcard 2 - Article - 'Mystic Mountain'

http://travel.guardian.co.uk:80/article/2004/oct/09/ireland.walkingholidays.guardiansaturdaytravelsection


Questions

What does 'thumbs its nose at' mean?
If you thumb your nose at someone, you behave in a way that shows that you do not care what they think.
What does the author mean by 'This vision was horizontal, not vertical'?
They thought there was a place of rest and happiness beyond the grey mists. Their God resided not in an ethereal heaven above, but in wind, sea, stone and air.
From whom takes Mount Brandon its name?
Some people say this name comes from Bran, the mythical Celtic voyager to the Island of Women in the Western Sea, but more likely the name recalls the more firmly historical Saint Brendan.
What does 'egress' mean?
Way out or exit.
What are 'promontory forts'?
Forts built on a cliff that stretches out into the sea.



Dear John,

How about my last letter? Still thinking about it? The day after I posted it, I came across ‘Mystic Mountain’, a travel article about Ireland. And maybe now it’s your turn to be surprised, because of my sudden love for travel stories. The article was about ‘Catholic Ireland’ and when I was reading it, my thoughts went their own way and at once I was back in England. I saw huge, grey stones, upright standing on the grass… Stonehenge. I remembered the sound of the walking people, the smell of the fresh grass and most of all, the impressive stones. I wondered why they were still standing there, why there was nobody who could tell me their background and why I felt so impressed while looking at them. Thousands of people have looked at them before me and all have made their own Stonehenge story. I made one too.

I thought of monk Brendan, praying in the Middle Ages. Praying to his God for better times, for more food, less poverty. Praying in a temple, built of the Stonehenge stones. Praying for the people in his country, praying for the people in war. Monk Brandon dies and other monks start praying in the temple. One day, a fire destroys the temple and the last praying monk dies. When the fire is over, only the present ‘Stonehenge stones’ are left on the grass as a silent honour.

When I walked to my car, I heard some people telling each other their stories. One was about Stonehenge to be an enormous calendar or sundial. Somebody else claimed it to be an instrument for astronomers or superstitious people. I started to run: those people and their stories disturb my quiet thoughts about the peaceful monks. I stopped running when I reached my car and I looked backwards. Even from a distance the stones impress me and fortunately, the only story coming up in my mind was about a praying monk.

I don’t know why I am writing you all this, but I felt a sudden urge to do it. Perhaps Peter Moore’s article made me think of travelling myself, instead of you…

All the best,
Neline