For more, see the complete Atlantic Abroad Index . I was intrigued. In a country where more than 90 percent of the population is Catholic and where Catholicism itself has come to symbolize resistance to centuries of Protestant English rule, finding a Protestant minister is no piece of cake. Today the friary, like countless churches in Ireland, is in ruins, the victim of Henry VIII's steel hand and of centuries of neglect. The friary's walls are intact, but the entire structure is roofless, and the lancet windows, once filled with blue stained glass, are empty.
Weeds grow in every crevice.
St. Columba's, on the other hand, on a busy bend in the road, has every outward appearance of a thriving, active church. Inside, I found a different story. Encouraged by the minister's invitation to attend a service, I showed up early on Sunday morning, pleased to find the church decorated with lilies and rhododendrons left over from a town festival that had taken place the previous week. As I approached the flowers, however, I noticed that all the petals were curled and outlined with the brown of rot. Closer to the apse entire arrangements drooped, as if nodding off to a dull sermon.