He was glad to do this, and rose until we reached the dizzy height of 2500 feet. I would not advise aeroplanists to seek this altitude until they are thoroughly acclimated to life in the atmosphere.
I had become somewhat hardened to aeroplaning, but as I looked straight down sometimes into a deep valley, half a mile below me, I did not feel altogether at my ease.
The view was magnificent. We passed over the Valley of Glendalough, between the mountains of Coomaderry and Lugduff. In this dark valley, by the side of a lake, St. Kevin lived in an early day. His fear of womankind has been immortalized by Moore. Formerly in this valley there was a crowded city, and a great seat of learning, and many kings are buried in this vicinity.
We saw here the ruins of the Seven Churches, and a Round Tower, said to date back to the 7th century.
As we entered the vale of Avoca, I remarked to Mike that Thomas Moore had touched Ireland with his genius, just as Sir Walter Scott threw a charm over Scotland. The vale of Avoca is best known by Moore’s lines:
“Sweet Vale of Avoca, how calm could I rest,
In thy bosom of shade, with friends I love best;
Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease,
And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace.”
Although the scenery through Wicklow was grand, I felt relieved as we quitted our lofty altitude, and sailed nearer the earth over the more prosaic County of Wexford. As Mike lowered the aeroplane within about 100 feet of the land I breathed easier.