h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

The island of Inisheer is the smallest of the Aran Islands, a group which protects the entrance to Galway Bay. Windswept and stony, these islands are harsh places with very little vegetation.

In the 10th Century, the intrepid Saint Caomhán (pronounced Kway-vawn)came to Inisheer and built a church. (This elusive saint is sometimes spelled Cavan or even Kevin. He is not to be confused with the more famous St Kevin who set up a monastery in the east of Ireland.) The ruins of this church are still standing and are known as Teampall Caomháin (Caomhán's Church). Legend has it that the saint lived in this tiny building, eating nothing but limpets which he picked off the rocks of the coast nearby. It sounds incredible, but it is certainly true that all the ground around the church is buried in limpet shells to a depth of a few feet!

The church was built next to a sandy area, and the action of the wind over the centuries has piled the sand up until it now forms a mound, with the church set deep into it. All that's left of the church are the four walls, so you have to climb in through the open roof, but there is one other means of access: the narrow window at one end. Only about six inches wide, a slim person can just about slide in through it, and legend guarantees a place in Heaven to anyone who achieves this feat.

Isolated churches such as this were common enough a thousand years ago. The solitary saint would have lived his life in prayer and relied on gifts of food and clothing from the local people. They in return would have been glad to have a resident holy man who could plead their case with their deity.

>>>Only about six inches wide, a slim person can just about slide in through it, and legend guarantees a place in Heaven to anyone who achieves this feat.



It's interesting to imagine a time when the earth was much less populated, not only with physical bodies, but 'populated' also with information, ideas, general chatter. I'm trying to imagine what Caomhán looked like, how he got there, how he spent his days in meditative prayer. It is also interesting to think of Caomhán's state of mind. In the absence of modern chatter - that great swelter of information that bombards us today like so much radiation - I imagine Caomhán to have somehow taken on the aspect of the ocean. I can't really explain it. But maybe you'd have seen it in his eyes.

The eyes have it.

I sea.