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This morning started out in a much more relaxed fashion than yesterday. Tim and I had a cuppa tea and some brown bread while we chatted with Kitty. Alfie had already headed off to work since he was planning to take off early in the afternoon to meet us in County Sligo and point us to an old cemetery where some Taaffes are buried.
After a nice shower (the Deehans have better water pressure than we found in many B & Bs), we loaded the car and left Athenry for points north. We stopped first to snap a few photos of the lovely Lough Talt, then found our way to a wide spot in the road called Mount Taaffe. We’re told that Mount Taaffe was once a thriving community, but now it mostly consists of a few homes and farms, a Catholic church said to have been built by Jack Taaffe, and a pub that’s rarely open. We first visited the church; we had been there on our trip to Ireland in 2003, but hadn’t found an open door on that visit. This time we were more fortunate, and were glad to go inside for a few minutes. Then since
The Church That Jack Built
The Baron stands in front of the little church near Lough Talt at Mount Taaffe, said to have been built with funds donated by Jack Taaffe.we weren’t sure we would be able to find Gleneask House, former home of Jack Taaffe, we drove back down to the pub. It wasn’t open, but Tim knocked on the door. When the resident/proprietor opened the door, we explained to her that we were Taffs from America, looking for the home of Johnny & Mary Forde. She said - “Oh, then you would be friends of Alfie Deehan.” We were pleasantly surprised to realize that he had called in advance to let her know we would be headed that direction. She said “It might be hard for you to find the place, so I’ll just go along and show you the way.” So in the car she came, and off we went, back up the little hill that is Mount Taaffe.
Gleneask House at Mount Taaffe
We arrived just as the Fordes were returning, so we all piled out of our cars together and they invited us in for tea. As Mary put the kettle on, Johnny took us around the place for a little tour of the farm that had been built by Jack Taaffe. This is where Alfie grew up as well. As I looked around,
I was reminded of one of the model farms we had seen at Muckross Traditional Farms - the house and outbuildings were all built parallel to one another - three buildings, with the house in the middle. Made me realize that the model at Muckross really was based on the way farms were built here a hundred or so years ago and wasn't just designed to appeal to tourists.
We had a lovely visit with the Fordes and with Jo Haran (the proprietor of the pub, which she said she rarely opens now that her husband has passed on). After a bit, Johnny said to Tim, “Would you be wantin’ some potcheen then?” (With his farmer’s tall mud-boots, walking stick, and thick brogue, I swear he reminded me of a kindly leprechaun.) Tim replied with an enthusiastic “Yes!” On our 2003 visit to Ireland, we learned that this traditional (and potent!) Irish moonshine was outlawed in 1661 but is still made by some hardy souls who live in more remote areas of the countryside. We also learned that Bunratty Winery was the first company to be licensed to make a legal version of potcheen, so naturally we bought a
Lough Talt Pub
Tim and Jo inside Jo's pub. bottle to bring home. Even now, three years later, that bottle has not been emptied. Tim brings it out when we have friends over (and we have friends over frequently). Usually only the most serious connoisseurs of spirits will even try the stuff, and they rarely drink more than one shot of it because of its powerful kick. So the idea of taking home a bottle of “the real thing” was quite exciting to Tim. Johnny disappeared into one of the outbuildings and returned carrying a bottle of potcheen in a burlap bag. He wrapped it carefully in newspaper, and Tim thanked him profusely. In response to Tim’s question, Johnny said that he doesn’t brew potcheen himself but has a neighbor who does. I haven’t been brave enough to try the stuff myself, but Tim says it’s quite good.*
Visit the
Bunratty Winery website to read the history of potcheen, or try the
Liquor Snob website for a review of Bunratty’s potcheen.
Ballymote
As much as we hated to leave such good company, we had to say our goodbyes to Johnny, Mary and Jo so that we could meet Alfie in Ballymote as scheduled. Now’s a good time to explain that the
New Friends
Tim stands in front of Gleneask House with Jo Haran, Mary Forde, (Tim) and Johnny Forde (left to right). Taaffe family was for centuries a part of the landed nobility in Ireland. One of the early titles was awarded to Sir John Taaffe in 1628 - Baron of Ballymote. Other titles included Viscount of Corren (also bestowed upon Sir John) and Earl of Carlingford (Sir John’s son Theobald was the first Earl). Read more about the Taaffes at
Wikipedia. On our 2003 trip to Ireland, we visited the ruins of a
castle at Ballymote that was once home to the Taaffes, and since then, I’ve taken the (probably very annoying) habit of referring to myself as the Baroness of Ballymote. It’s all in good fun, and I hope that I don’t offend anyone who takes nobility more seriously than I do. After all, the Taaffe titles don’t exist any longer due to an accident of history. “Baroness” certainly suits my personality, and my husband doesn’t mind being referred to as the Baron. In fact, in 2004 he even provided me with my own “family jewels” - not to be confused with those
other family jewels. One of the last Taaffes of the titled line was Edward, Count Taaffe, who was a gemologist lucky enough to discover an extremely rare stone which
Pastoral View
I'm surprised I didn't capture any animals in this photo. There were sheep, a few fowl, and a barnyard cat all wandering freely about the place. now bears his name. Taaffeite is believed to be found only in Sri Lanka, and is recognized as one of the rarest gems in the world. One
gemology website estimates that only 300 taaffeites exist in the entire world. And I have one of them! This is again thanks in part to Alfie, who sent us a magazine article about Count Taaffe. After we learned about taaffeite, the search was on, and when we found one, we were happy to put it in my engagement ring in place of the original diamond. Ironically, Alfie’s wife Kitty never saw that magazine article, so when she saw my ring on this trip, the story of the stone’s history was a real surprise to her. I expect she’s currently looking for a taaffeite to call her own.
Now back to our story.
As it turned out, Alfie wasn’t able to spend the afternoon with us as we had all hoped, but he did take us out to the cemetery known as Emilyfad. We found the remains of an old stone church; apparently, the standing walls make good hiding spots for folks (teenagers perhaps?) who want to drink their beer without being caught,
The Baroness's Family Jewels
Our taaffeite is a smoky purple color. Perhaps we're a bit prejudiced, but we think it looks quite regal, as befits a Baroness. as we found quite a few empties, plus the remains of a small fire. Other than that, there were no signs that the cemetery had been visited by humans in YEARS. The grass and weeds were tall, and most of the headstones were so completely covered with vines that even after we slogged our way through the jungle, we couldn’t read the stones. It was a disappointing venture for us, made worse by the fact that some of those weeds turned out to be some kind of stinging nettles. Tim was OK, as he was wearing jeans. I, on the other hand, was miserable for several hours after our visit because I was wearing Laura Petrie-style pants that left a few inches of my legs exposed. For a few days, I had red rings around my ankles that looked like abstract henna tattoos. The affected areas went from an awful stinging to an uncomfortable tingling, and finally to a poison-ivy type itch. All that, and I have no idea what the plants were. They looked innocuous, but looks in this case were very deceiving.
After we gave up on our search at Emilyfad, we decided it was time to head to our next destination, Enniskillen.
* Disclaimer
For any “revenooers” (that’s what we call them in the American south) out there who might be reading this journal, please understand that this tale of potcheen is entirely fictional, intended just to liven up an otherwise ordinary tale. ;-) We may not be real nobility, but we are surely law-abiding citizens. Would a good law-abiding citizen smuggle a bottle of Irish moonshine out of Ireland and into Texas?
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JACKIE DAVIS
non-member comment
INTERESTING
LYNETTE, I AM REALLY ENJOYING READING ABOUT YOUR VENTURES. BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY AND LOVED THE STORY ABOUT THE STONE YOU NOW HAVE IN YOUR RING! IF I COULD TRAVEL, IRELAND WOULD BE NUMBER ONE ON MY LIST, ALWAYS WANTED TO GO. JACKIE