Seeking a fortune teller and meeting the White Witch

Our American in Ireland gets a glimpse of her future

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Looking into the future can be daunting

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Read more - Magic spells from white witch of Cobh

Call me crazy, or if you’re generous of heart, just call me ridiculous.

I spent the weekend visiting psychics. Yep, mediums, portals to the other world, fortune tellers, mystics, – however you want to describe them – I visited two of these mysterious beings over the course of two days.

Before you turn to judge, let me give you my terrific justifications for spending good money and time to hear the thoughts of self-proclaimed witches.

Firstly, I’ve been investigating a murder for a documentary I’ve been working on, and I’m planning a trip to a dangerous part of Africa to continue my fact-finding mission. I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask someone who says she sees the future if it would be worth the risk to travel.

And after all, these ‘white witches’ have existed in Ireland for centuries;  they’re remnants of an Ireland long passed, one full of superstition and mysticism. So in a way, to talk to a fortune teller is to have a taste of old Irish culture.

Pretty good excuses, eh? When it comes down it to it, I guess, when we’re not fully employed, bored, and really want to hear good news, we’ll go to great lengths to do so.

With that in mind, my sister, my cousin and I ventured to sneak a peek at what lies ahead.

Here’s an account of our experiences with the other worldly.

Day 1: We’re in Newcastle West, Co. Limerick. We’ve heard there are two psychics worth visiting: the “White Witch of Croom” in Limerick, and the “White Witch of Cobh”, in Cork.

We start with the psychic that requires the least amount of driving. So after a forty minute drive, we land upon the home of The White Witch of Croom. Oddly, her house is the only one on the block with dozens of butterflies floating around the front garden. Perched on religious statues, trinkets and rocks scattered around the lawn, they bat their wings unhurriedly, pausing occasionally to gaze at our lowly (non-psychic) human forms.

On to the readings! A white-haired woman with gold teeth and a warm, but often gruff, demeanor asks each of us to sit in her car for our individual readings.

When I sit in the car, she has me unfold a deck of cards, sifts through them, and then launches a rapid-fire fact-attack about my family history. I say attack because if I reject any of her assertions, she turns to me accusingly and repeatedly asks, “Are you sure, are you sure?”  or says, “I’m telling you it’s true,” even if it’s not. I’d give her about a 60% accuracy rate.

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