EireLandings ~ Part Fourteen ~ Same Day, We Dunmore

We left our historic residence by the River Suir after a great dinner following an already full day (see Part After Twelve).  But the day was not yet complete and we headed toward the Irish Sea and a charming fishing village known as Dunmore East. 

     As always, the passing landscape gave us sudden surprises beyond the expected.  One of my favorites is a ship sculpture, with a twist.

     The drive to the coast was not a long one and although an early evening in early May, the daylight was nowhere near dusk.  As we pulled in to Dunmore East, another modern sculpture, a memorial to seafarers and fisherfolk came into view.



     It was a moving piece with the names of those lost at sea on the wall behind.  I thought once off the bus I'd get another better photo but then I was struck immediately with the view on the right.  Another rugged coast line with greyish skies and a healthy breeze, the rocks with their kittiwake nests and the waves roiling against them. 


     Then there in the far distance, a lighthouse.  Not exactly a surprise on a coastline but it, too, has a long history.  The Hook Head lighthouse is the successor to beacons being lit on that spot since the 5th century.  The current tower is Norman in origins dating from 1172 and is the oldest working lighthouse in Europe.  The usual suspects in Irish history - Strongbow, Cromwell, et al - have passed near and today it holds its place as a necessary signal to passing sailors.  Thankfully, a long range telephoto lens helps bring it closer to view much better than mere eyesight can from the shore.

As we pulled away from the harbor, we headed into the village of Killea for our evening's entertainment.  Amazing thatched homes with some arranged in seeming peril on the cliffs appeared to the oohs and ahhs of the group.  Others just clean and bright, and simply quietly iconic.

     It was yet another moment to ponder a way of life that resonates somewhere deep down in my bones.  Perhaps from another lifetime... Thatching has become more popular in Europe and the UK in recent decades.  Not only for preserving historical buildings it is now a likely sign of some affluence where once it was left to those in more humble circumstances.  There can be an occasional critter visit though.

     And then we arrived for our evening pleasure, Hayes Pub in the village of Killea. Located near the ruins of a church from 700 AD, it remains as from its beginning family owned and operated for over 300 years.  The pub boasts three successive generations of women proprietors, the most recent - and now dearly departed - Aggie - who was well known for her hospitality and perhaps even more so for her lack thereof.  Her legend says she refused to serve women at the bar and would easily refuse anyone mere entry or just plain throw them out for whatever particular reason occurred to Herself!

     As one of its many treasures, Hayes displays a plethora of vintage Guinness signs. 

     

 

    



      Just in case you have an over abundance of joy in your heart after a pint or four, in its vintage interior, the pub conveniently provides a handy place for you to send up your prayer of thanksgiving:

        The 40 or so of us from the bus and a local or two managed to squeeze in to this tiny establishment.  From its warm hearth to its crowded bar, the place filled every inch of its accumulated 300 years of  community service with the echoes of laughter, song, and the surely ever-so-rare fist fight here and there.

     And then the fun really began.  Our host for the evening was a gentleman named Richie Roberts, a local notable and, as you can see from the extensive advertising, highly acclaimed.

      Richie truly was a gem - a hilarious, talented story-teller and singer in the best Irish tradition - he kept us laughing and singing and laughing and, oh yes, drinking.  Favorite Daughters and favorite Aunts were into the spirit of the evening.

     Favorite Youngest Daughter even had a starring role:

    

     Inevitably, one must have a visit to the necessary room prior to boarding the bus after such a fun time.  And it was in that place that I finally found what I had been searching for in these days of travel in the land of my ancestors - my family!  I knew they were here somewhere and now I'm content.  My family - where else but in the loo of a 300 year old pub!

Making Clean Money for Generations



     When we got back to the hotel, it was time for showers before we called it a night.  As Hayes is a usual stop on this tour, we figured that the previous tenant of our room also had a great time if not at Hayes, definitely somewhere else.  In the steam on the mirror we could read, "Pat Rocks!"  So, to Pat, wherever and whoever you are: you go, girl! 

Next stop, Avoca.