"That Holy Place"

After a few days off grid, I found the time to capture my thoughts on my recent Lough Derg experience. 10min read but hopefully you will find it worth your time. If it intrigues you to go there I’d love to hear how it was for you.

​I can’t remember exactly when I was last here in this sacred place, but I know it was over 30 years ago some time in my late teens / early twenties when I completed my third Lough Derg pilgrimage. After a tough pilgrimage I said “I’d never be back”. 

And sure why would I need to, when it is said that if you complete Lough Derg three times you receive a “Plenary indulgence into heaven” so when I got an invite to join a few friends, I have to admit I did hesitate at first when I remembered how hard it can be, but then I thought a fourth visit might gain me some extra favour, so I joined my friends in that holy place on Thursday 10th July 2025.

Looking across at St. Patrick’s Basilica, with the sun shimmering on the water and the temperature in the mid to high twenties, it’s a breathtaking vista. I quickly take a few photos with my companions, then disconnect my phone from the iCloud and begin to reconnect—with myself, and with the man above.

It’s the first time for a few of my colleagues, and as we step onto the boat with our sunglasses on, one could easily mistake us for holidaymakers heading to a weekend spa retreat at an exclusive island resort. That fantasy is short-lived. The moment we set foot on the holy island and remove our shoes and socks, the sharpness of the well-trodden concrete beneath our bare feet delivers our first reality check: this is a very different kind of retreat.

Early into my first station, on the stones outside St Patrick's Basilica, I’m reminded why Lough Derg is known as the toughest pilgrimage in the world. However, knowing that saints once walked on this holy ground does sustain you in moments of discomfort. Time here, even in the sunshine is still hard going, it forces us to take stock, It is designed that way to challenge us. When life becomes too comfortable maybe this is exactly what many of us need. And here I am again—barefoot, walking the sacred soil and stones—for another three days of discomfort: fasting on dry bread and water, keeping a 24-hour vigil, steeped in continuous prayer and reflection, detoxing from digital devices. It forces us to let go of the daily stressors and distractions that so many of us have become addicted to. In letting go of all that stuff, in the stillness, we can hear God whisper.

We’re given back time—for ourselves and for genuine conversations. Those moments when other pilgrims share their stories of grief, resilience and faith, makes you pay attention and listen with empathy, uninterrupted by texts, emails and app notifications. We are reminded what human connection feels like: Our feet grounded to the earth, we're on land and off line, our souls connected to something greater. And that truly matters.

With every sharp stone beneath me, I’m reminded how lucky I am to carry memories of walking this holy ground 30 years ago with my father (RIP). At that time, our family was still overwhelmed by grief following the death of my brother Laurence (RIP). In those stormy moments, every station felt harder. The whole Lough Derg experience was far more difficult to endure than this one in the glorious sunshine.
This time, I was drawn back to Lough Derg for a few personal intentions—but mostly, out of gratitude. Three days of sacrifice here feels modest compared to the unimaginable hardship faced daily by people in war-torn regions across the world. Thankfully, the Ireland we know today lives in relative peace. How many prayers have been whispered on this island during the Troubles, begging for that very peace?

From this position of comfort, it’s sobering to witness the suffering that still persists elsewhere. The night before my pilgrimage, I saw the towering bonfires of the 12th July—some displaying sickening effigies that do nothing but inflame hatred. Moments like that remind me how deeply conflict, chaos, and contempt for one another continue to stain our human story.

Even though walking barefoot is gentler when the ground is warmed by the sun. But one can easily forget to protect the tops of the feet from sunburn. As if barefoot walking weren’t challenging enough—add sunburn and a few blisters and it’s another layer of discomfort.
2025 is a Jubilee Year—also known as a Holy Year—centred around the theme “Pilgrims of Hope.” Here in Ireland, pilgrims are invited to visit three sacred sites: Lough Derg, Croagh Patrick, and Knock Shrine, each offering the opportunity to have your Pilgrim Passport stamped. All three are steeped in history, meaning, and spiritual significance—and each one is well worth the journey.

Nowadays, we’re steeped in comfort, convenience, and instant gratification. There’s an app for everything, and it’s tempting to always choose what’s easy. The one-day trip to Lough Derg might feel more accessible—and for many, due to medical limitations or time constraints, it’s the right option. Even so, it offers a glimpse into the transformative power of this holy place.

But for those who choose to immerse themselves fully—embracing the extended sacrifice—the rewards run deeper. Beyond the discomfort lies something richer: the enduring value of delayed gratification, a greater appreciation for simplicity, and a profound sense of connection that comes only when we step away from what's easy... and walk barefoot into purpose.

Day 1: The 24-hour vigil was the toughest for me. Rolling into Day 2 sleep deprived and hungry, I was running on spirit alone. But then came the Sacrament of Reconciliation—Confession—which lifted some weight from my shoulders. It’s amazing how unburdened and light you can feel, even after so little rest. The fast continued, bringing us to a full 72 hours, and by 10pm on Night 2… I didn’t need any bedtime stories.

Day 3: We rose at 6am for the final stretch—barefoot once more, kneeling, walking, praying, and reflecting deeply before slipping our socks and shoes back on. We say our goodbyes and lined up for the first boat off the island. Feeling proud of ourselves for completing this once dubbed "The Iron Man of pilgrimages" Onboard in a last moment of silence before departure, we received a final blessing and I swear, it raised our vibration one last time.

All of the above makes you very aware of a few of the many paradoxes in life: To heal, we must first suffer; to find peace, we must first face chaos. When we do things that are hard, it’s often because they truly matter.

When we ground ourselves, we become uplifted. When we persevere, we’re rewarded—with a deep sense of accomplishment.

I have it on my bucket list to walk the Camino de Santiago, the path of St James, which would take many weeks and numerous trips, it won't happen for me this year. However, first I fully intend to complete my Irish Pilgrim Passport and get it stamped for Croagh Patrick and Knock Shrine before this year is out.

Your Jubilee 2025 Pilgrim Passport is awaiting you.
​If you feel called to pause, reflect and reset, these holy places are calling for you, will you answer?

Pilgrim Justin
10th July 2025