Tobar Rí an Domhnaigh, the Well of the King of Sunday, sits in a rock cavity on the eastern side of a stream that marks the boundary between the townlands of Gortacurraun and Farrannacarriga on the Dingle Peninsula. The name alone suggests something older and stranger than a simple water source, and the well does not disappoint. Tucked into a deep gully, it sits half-hidden beneath fuchsia growth, and a short distance upstream, wedged into a crevice in the rock, is a small stone carved with a Latin cross, its shaft and arms finished with T-bar terminals, a detail that places it within a recognisable tradition of early Christian memorial or devotional carving in the west of Ireland.

The well was once the focus of a local pattern, the term used in Ireland for the rounds performed at a holy well, typically involving circumambulation and prayer at set stations. The Ordnance Survey Name Books, compiled in the nineteenth century, recorded that the inhabitants would give rounds here generally on Sunday morning, which may well explain the curious dedication to a Sunday king, the ritual tied to the day of the week rather than to any single saint. By the time the folklorist Caoimhín Ó Danachair documented the site in 1960, the devotions had already ceased, the well overgrown and the practice discontinued. The gully setting, deep and sheltered, gives some sense of why such a place might have attracted veneration: these liminal spots, at the edge of townlands, beside running water, half-concealed in rock, appear again and again in the geography of early Irish religious life.