 |
| Scribed in the Omey Strand's sands |
 |
| The girls on a rock that will soon be submerged in the strand |
 |
| A newfound relative: Feichin Mulkerrin and his wife Ann |
 |
| Toasting the day and experience of Omey in Sweeney's re-furb'd bar |
I appreciate everyone's patience.
Thursday, 10/13/2011 - Day 7: Achill Island to Omey Island and Clifden
 |
| Moon setting over Achill Island |
 |
| Cousins |
 |
| Ursula and John Malloy |
 |
| Cut turf waiting to be harvested... very cool |
 |
| Sweeney's Bar in Claddaghduff overlooking Omey Island |
 |
| The ancestral Mongan home on Omey to the left. It's been painted yellow. |
 |
| Direct descendant Rosie and Mother |
 |
| She loves animals and relishes getting close to them |
 |
| View back across the strand to mainland Ireland |
 | ||
| Omey cemetery behind the girls. Can only reach it during low tide on Omey Dia dhuit ar maidin! (Good morning!) I was up early, 0630, but Rose was up earlier even after going to bed much later! Amazing woman, my mother-in-law. :-) The Malloy's kitchen/dining room faces to the East and has a large window as part of that end of the house. One can get some pretty breathtaking vistas of sunrise coming over the island's Eastern mountains. On this morning, there were low, fast moving clouds with vivid red skies peeking through while the tops of the mountains were draped in slow moving mist, just breath-taking. I joined Rose in the kitchen after getting cleaned up and Ursula joined us soon after. Being the considerate hostess she is, Ursula started worrying about our breakfast. Since we didn't want to be too full bellied on a travel morning, we settled on toast and raisin soda bread with coffee and tea. Rosie soon joined us in the kitchen, saw the sun coming up in the East and bolted out the house with my camera to head down to the beach area to snap a bunch of photos. She made it back in time to have some tea and toast. As with all good things, our visit had come to an end. We were sad to leave but, very happy to have spent a little time with Ursula and John. I respect their relatively simpler way of life, as hard and demanding as it must be living on Achill, and left with just a taste of why they love it. I hope we see them again. After more posed photos and hugs & kisses all around, we left Ursula and John at ~0830 headed for Omey Island. As we drove off down the narrow road, we decided to stop by Sweeney's (the Sweeney's appear to own most shops on the island) just before crossing the bridge over to Achill Sound. The grocery store was still closed but, the hardware store was open. Parked and went in... the next thing you know both Rose's are in a buying frenzy for - teapots! That's right teapots and, not just a couple, 5 of various sizes. I had no idea that teapots were on the list of things to purchase while on holiday. :-) Apparently, good teapots are hard to come by in the US of A. Departed Achill Island with 2 very happy Roses. It's about 75miles to Omey Island, well actually, to the seaside town of Cleggan anyway. The Garmin GPS did not recognize Omey, Claddeghduff or Aughrismore. The last 5 miles or so would have to be navigated the old fashioned way: road map and good situational awareness. Our route took us the way back through Newport and Westport on to the N59 which would take us most of the way down. The N59 also takes you right by another famous landmark, Kylemore Abbey, about 15 miles or so outside of Omey Island. We'd discussed stopping at the Abbey for a quick visit before Omey, unfortunately, we were feeling pressed for time not knowing exactly when low tide would happen at Omey, so pressed on. You can see Kylemore Abbey, fleetingly, from the road - it's impressive! Looks like a medival castle. Another 5miles or so through the small village of Letterfrack and Moyard, where we were led off the beaten path onto much narrower roads to Cleggan. The 5miles to Cleggan were the most harrowing to date! The roads got wickedly narrower and you need to negotiate them slowly with an eye to bailing out if possible. In many places the road was only 1, small, European car wide which in and of itself wouldn't have been bad BUT, with the high hedgerows and/or stone walls, rolling hills and many a sharp blind turn, didn't know what you might run into and nearly did on several occasions! At those moments when you have no choice but to pass right-to-right as close as possible, folding in the side mirror helped and dragging hedgerows down your left side was required to avoid swapping paint. With much relief and sweaty, aching hands on the driver, we reached Cleggan, a tiny fishing port about 3 miles out of Omey. Once we'd gotten off the main road back outside of Cleggan, the map indicated that If I stayed right, we'd eventually stumble on to claddeghduff and Omey - which we did - regardless of the near absence of any good signage. Typically, once you were actually at a village boundary, there would be posted some small sign declaring you were there. At one small 'Y' in the road, someone had actually hand drawn on a cardboard sign, an arrow with the name of the town it was pointing to on it - helped. :-) Those last 3 miles to our destination were as fraught as the last 5 with the tension of navigating roads not designed for modern vehicles. Before we knew it, there we were... Sweeney's bar in Claddeghduff overlooking the nearly drained sand strand between mainland Ireland and the small island of Omey! Sweeney's was not anywhere as dark, beat up and run down as I was lead to believe from very dated memories of the place. :-) The bar had undergone a major change dating back over 10yrs and now, it was bigger, brighter and better apportioned - all normal to me, surprising to the Roses. The new proprietors had moved the small store (which had also gotten a lot bigger I was told) from the left side of the building over to the right side of the multipurpose building. Rose thought the 2 gasoline pumps may have been relatively new additions also. Sweeney's bar was actually very warm, clean and welcoming. We all went inside through the small convenience store - you can walk into the bar from there - as it was much nippier here off the water than when we started off the morning. Rosie started chatting up the lady behind the convenience store counter while I went inside to check out the bar and order us refreshments... needed them after our harrowing ride through the boonies of Western Ireland! Rosie had also started up a conversation with a kindly enough looking man dressed in Wellingtons that just happend to be in the little store too. He told us he was called Fahy (would turn out to be a nickname) but, his real name was Feichin Mulkerrin. He was a wealth of information including the fact that low tide was around noon and we had until about 1600 to visit the island and get off to avoid getting locked on Omey. The two of them also started talking some history and family geneology which appeared to peak his interest some - he thought they may be related! How exciting! He invited us back to his house near the church, Our Lady Star of the Sea, after we were done exploring the island and cemetery. We planned to take him up on it. First, some tea, coffee and a few scones in Sweeney's. There was 1 other person at the bar enjoying what looked to be his 2nd Guinness of the morning. While we were enjoying our lite snack, that grubby, small, elderly man dressed quite haphazardly in bits & pieces of clothing some of which were old sweat pants/shirt sitting at the bar mozied over and started to chat. The barkeep introduced him as 'Pascal Whelan' and informed us that he knew quite a bit about the area and lived on Omey? He also had a friendly dog with him that looked like the dog from the movie Pig, 'Fly'. Coincidentally, the dog's name was 'Rex' (if you saw the movie 'Pig' you'll know why that's kinda cool). Rosie just made a new friend. Not sure of everything he was trying to share with us but apparently, he's someone that has earned a bit of notority in years gone by. He'd been a world traveler, held all types of interesting jobs including being a stunt man, the last job he had before being severely injured and retiring back to Omey, and is in fact the only person that actually lives on the island now, for over 10 years - in a beat up modest size caravan at the end of the 1 road on the island. Also turns out that he's a big part of a mini-DVD we purchased about the history of Omey Island. Plan on watching it when we get back. Refreshed, left the bar, jumped in the car and made our way down past the church to the ramp onto the strand. I'm getting the sense that Mom's a bit nervous about making the drive over and still holds some trepidation based on some old, local wives' tales about ghosts/spirits that may roam the island and fuss with folks? The tide at the strand drops from what appears to be 4 to 6 feet in height at low tide, exposing a tightly packed bar of sand that can support a great deal of weight evidenced by the backhoe we saw driving across the strand to the cemetery. :-) The route to Omey is marked by poles planted in the sand. The rides a bit bumpy due to the wavy texture of the sand... makes you want to do donuts on the strand. Hit the strand at around 1230. Forgot to measure the distance but, doesn't look to be more than 1/2 to 3/4 of a mile, max. Some visitors park in a small lot just above the ramp and walk out on to the stand, over to the island or, just explore. Some drive their vehicles all over the strand stopping at a variety of locations of interest. Gotta admit, I was a bit nervous initially until I got some time on the sand and discovered how solid it was. :-) Anyway, as we reached the other side and started up, I paused the car... Rosie wanted to get out to walk up to her father's family home video-taping along the way. Took a lot of photos and we decided to drive the 1 car road to its end on the far side of the island - something and someplace both Rose's had never been to before. The one lane road is only broken up along the way by gated entrances to other cottages, some still occupied on occasion, some not. When we got to the end of the road on the weather side of the island, there were a couple of other vehicles already parked there with their occupants wandering around somewhere. We wanted to do the same. Where we parked there was a beat up old caravan held down to the island - where gale force winds can play havoc with feeble structures - by some sturdy straps. This was Pascal Whelan's home. The girls headed out along the fence line where there were numerous large cows along the way grazing. Unsurprisingly, Rosie wanted to make friends with all of them. As the girls wandered, my contribution to the visit was to go down nearer the water, amongst all of the seaweed and gathered some very coarse sand from that side of the island for Rosie. Did the same on the strand side - sand there was much finer. After about 1/2 an hour, I picked the girls up with the car - needed to do some off roading on very green grass to get to them - and we headed back to the ancestral Mongan home. Rosie picked a stone out of the fence fronting the home to bring back with her for a keepsake. Drove off the island and made a hard left, to the nervousness of Rose, in order to drive closer to the cemetery. Parked. Rose initially decided to stay put in the car while Rosie and I wandered around the cemetery looking for Mongans but, eventually got out of the car and did some strolling around herself. She later claimed that the car door locks were acting up on their own and after some of the spooky stories she'd heard, decided to take her chances on the strand. :-) After 20mins wandering about the cemetery and only finding 1 Mongan between the 2 of us, we gathered up Mom, jumped in the car and drove to the center of the strand for some photos. From there and with Rosie directing, we found Feichin and Ann Mulkerrin's home behind the church, parked and went in. They're a very nice couple with 4 sons, all of whom have made homes and live around Dad and Mom here in Claddeghduff. As we were standing in their living room, Rosie spied a small B&W photo of her Aunt Onnie Mongan, Feichin's parents and Feichin and his brother as small children standing on Omey Island. Why is this so cool? Well, Rosie's Dad, Tom Mongan, took the picture back in 1952 and mother Rose has the original bigger one! So, and I hope I don't mess this up... Rosie's Aunt Onnie Mongan is the sister of Feichin's grandmother - that's how they're blood related and I won't try to guess what that makes Rosie to Feichin and vice versa! :-) We had some tea with the Mulkerrin's, exchanged e-mails and Feichin gave Rosie (after he autographed it for her) a copy of one of the few books about Omey, 'To School Through the Years', written by a group of people including Feichin. Was very nice of him to give her a copy. We left on good terms, made a quick stop at Our Lady Star of the Sea for some photos, and headed back to Sweeney's for a very late lunch and a Guinness for me! Also bought a pint for Pascal Whelan... reckon I owed him one for being so friendly. ;-) By the time we left Sweeney's, it was getting too late to backtrack the 15 or so miles on the N59 to Kylemore Abbey for a visit so, we left it off for another visit and headed out towards Clifden where we would find a place to stay for the night. That place was right on the town square in a small hotel called Alcock & Brown (historically some famous aviators, or so Rosie tells me). Nothing fancy about the place but, they had vacancies. It had begun to rain on the way to Clifden so, we decided to stay in and have dinner in the hotel. By the way, all of the dinners we've had in hotels have been great including the ones we'd have on this evening. Rosie had the chicken curry, Mom had Hake fish and, I had chicken Kiev. Called it a night after dinner. More later, Fuji |
No comments:
Post a Comment