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Published: August 27th 2011
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Sligo Abbey
We found out that there are several McGowans buried here A fella told me recently that, when you remember things about a holiday, it's the hospitality of the people that make more of an impression on you than beautiful scenery. Whether you agree with this sentiment or not doesn't matter in Ireland, because the visitor is blessed with an abundance of both. We have only had 6 days here and have concentrated on the west coast. The scenery around there is among the most stunning that we have ever seen. As we negotiate tight bends, on roads that are wide enough for one and a half cars but seldom two, we are surrounded by green rolling hills dotted with sheep that belong in a Wallace & Gromit cartoon and divided by stone fences that have probably been there for hundreds of years and look as solid as the day they were built. These hills contrast against the bright blue of the Atlantic Ocean which, even though it is still summer, is not the friendly temperature that we are used to back in Oz.
The west coast of Ireland is a mixture of geography. We started off up north around the city of Sligo, famous for two things, Sligo Abbey and
the grave of the poet W.B. Yeats. Being loyal tourists, we visited both of course, before heading down the coast to a surfing spot called Strandhill. The surf didn't look too inviting and the beach mainly pebbles but the locals seem to like it. We travelled south and spent the night in Galway. Being a university town, it is full of students who will most likely be the leaders of tomorrow but are definitely the partiers of today. We all had a great night there and the next day took in the breathtaking sights of Galway Bay. Our next accommodation was a little surfing hamlet called Inch Beach which is located about half way along the Dingle Peninsular. On our way down there we called in to see the Cliffs of Mohir which run for about 10 kilometres and are sheer drops into the Atlantic of up to 200 metres. Very impressive and well worth the visit.
We seem to be on the road to nowhere for hours and, even though Mike & I are confident that we aren't lost, the lady folk are starting to get nervous looks on their faces and dropping the odd subtle comment like,
"do you idiots know where you're going?" We didn't let this deter us though and, after driving for hours without seeing any sign of life other than sheep, we come over a hill and Inch Beach is spread out in front of us. We let out a collective sigh. Mike & I because the view is spectacular, Trace & Deb because we had actually found it! Now this is a great beach, similar to what we are use to. Miles of nice sand with a tiny wave that the locals assure us gets much bigger. I'm not convinced though. The whole village appears to be owned by one man, Sammy, who is either of Pakistani or Indian descent but has a broad Irish brogue. Great guy who made us feel very much at home whether it was in the guest house that we stayed, or the pub that we drank in or the restaurant where we ate. Did I mention that he also runs the surf shop. Quite the entrepreneur is Sammy.
Time to leave the coast and head inland. Our next point of call is a town called Mitchelstown which is in County Cork but not far from
Tipperary. I wanted to go there because it is close to the place where my great, great grandfather was arrested in 1836 for violent assault and eventually transported to the colonies for 7 years. Apparently, after a drinking session, he took to his mate with a rock and stole a shilling. I asked a few locals who didn't recall my forefather's family, but said that the victims family name was quite common around here. I didn't chase them up in case they wanted their shilling back! We stayed in this unbelievable B&B called Ballinwillin House which is run by Patrick & Miriam Mulcahey. Patrick is a larger than life jovial character who is an ex policeman with a background in horticulture and, apart from helping his wife run the B&B, farms deer, boars and in his spare time operates a vineyard in Hungary. When we first met him, he was attempting to break the all Ireland record for most expletives used at a breakfast sitting! His wife, Miriam was a most gracious host and they made us feel very welcome. They said to us "Now, you'll be wantin a good place to have a pint. You go down de main
road to O'Leary's Pub, ya can't miss it.....it's got Walshe's Pub written on da front window. After a few days in Ireland, this sort of logic made perfect sense to us. We did find it easy and had a good time.
We spent our last night in Dublin and did all the things a good tourist should including Halfpenny Bridge, Temple Bar,Trinity College etc. If you ask me though, it's country Ireland that stole our hearts....to be sure!
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Yeatesy
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Uncle WB.
Did you give my blessings to Uncle William Butler?