Deirbhile’s Well

I awoke Xmas morning leanover, thirsty and definitely with Evian on my mind. Realising that I was never gonna get any on Xmas Day in remotest Ireland, my old man informed me of a local well. We took a drive over to the Atlantic side of the peninsula to get some water but I didn’t realise the well was going to have such a story connected to it. Derbhile, whom the well is named after, was of noble lineage, according to local lore she decided to devote her life to God, mainly it seems due to the advances of an army chief whose intention it was to marry her. She escaped his clutches by relocating to the remote Fál Mór, however, inevitably the army chief found her. She asked him what it was that attracted him most to her and he replied the beauty of her eyes. With that, she gouged out her eyes and threw them at him. He obviously freaked the fuck out and left, but shortly afterwards water spurted up from where the eyes had laid. She washed her bloody eye sockets in the water and her vision was restored immediately. Even without the aid of any actual eyes. This made it ‘holy water’. This happened in the 6th century. There is the ruins of of a church a few hundred yards down near the seafront where Deirbhile is buried. According to folklore if you can pass through the small east window of the church 3 times you will not drown. Ever. There is now a pilgrimage to the well and the church and people are drinking this water still, maybe to be healed of whatever ailment they may have, in my case no Evian. It tasted a bit funky to be honest, maybe it was its holiness or the fact that the well is a few hundred yards from the Atlantic Ocean but I guess it was okay. Better than Volvic for sure.