“I ran my hands upon the walls
Fingers soft on stone
Walked like shadows through the halls
Through the ghosts that lingered still
Like the ivy on the towers
The moss upon the path
The rooks that sing of days now gone
Crumbling memories of the past”

— Claire Loader

There is something quietly enchanting about a cloister, the soft footfalls of the past still reverberating around its walls. A predominant feature of Franciscan Friaries, so few in the West are left intact. But Quin, she is something special. Walking around her vast halls you cannot help but be transported, whisked into the lilting rhythm of a long lost matins, reaching out from the very stone.

You can find the location of this imposing site and the many other places I’ve visited here. Come explore with me…