I bused north from Cork to Thomastown. It was a little hard to find accommodation in this tiny place because, you guessed it, there was another wedding celebration and an entire hotel was booked.
After securing a roof over my head, I wandered the graveyard. At the edge of the town stood a section of the old stonewall dating back to 1373.
I was busy taking notes in Thomastown because I was one step away from the main Irish setting of my novel. I asked questions around town and as always, found the Irish accommodating. They not only shared information I needed, but kept on sharing. On one occasion in Dublin, I’d been standing at an intersection consulting my map, when a man asked if I needed help. Not only did I receive directions, but he kept on talking and talking so I almost forgot which way to go.
While I’d researched these settings on line before I left, there was nothing like actually being there.
Just out of town was Jerpoint Abbey, a 12th century stone ruin where even the dialogue invaded my head as I wandered through the grounds.
