July 3-4
Our last day in Cork was spent driving out along the peninsula our rental lay on, Mizen Head. It was a foggy day and little could be seen looking out toward the sea, but the flowers were blooming, fuchsias everywhere, hedges full of their bright purplish/pink faces. My partner and her friend Leela named the color pinkle and that expresses it perfectly. The hydrangeas over here are enormous, blue, pink and white heads of enormous size. Enormous rhododendrons, no longer in bloom, butterfly bush that make our specimens at home seem like undernourished country cousins. The flora of West Cork is special, its proximity to the Gulf Stream grants it weather that is unique in all of Ireland. It allows for species of palm to grow as well as the banana plant that’s in the garden of our rental, you’ll see green and flowering plants that can’t survive anywhere else in this part of the world. It’s an explosion of green growing beauty. We drove all the way out to the the tip of the Sheep’s Head, to Mizen Head itself, a rugged windswept place where many a ship has foundered in its long history. James and Bridget took the tour of it while Morgan and I stayed in the coffee shop studying the nautical chart that served as decoration of the table where we sat. You’d have to be a real sailor to take to the water around this spot of coast. Hidden rocks just below the surface, treacherous currents, its beautiful in a forbidding sort of way. Morgan patiently explained the details we were looking at on the nautical chart, he grew up sailing with his father and then later solo or with friends. I love learning, I’m a sponge for knowledge and listening to Morgan’s knowledge of sailing on large bodies of water, being able to navigate with light houses, buoys and radio beacons…. I was captivated. What another world within the world!
That evening we’d agreed to play another session at Ma Murphy’s. We met Noel and the rest of the instrument makers at the school house exhibition for pizza, wine and craic and then off we went to Ma Murphy’s. We arrived before Noel and scoped out the small room but it was already full so we decamped to another area to await the rest to show up. The large room that we’d played in earlier in the week was empty and once Noel arrived some discussion ensued but we eventually decided the large room might suit our purposes better. We claimed the south end of the room, moved tables and chairs to suit us. Richie Tisdall’s sister Mary showed up, we’d missed playing with her earlier in the week, long with Seamus who plays box and Mary’s husband Tom who is a fine flute player. All three are good musicians. Tunes started and then more people drifted in. Niall, who plays a mean fiddle, a couple of violinists who’d been playing classical music in the Cork Festival, who likely grew up as fiddlers. Then Mick who grew up in east end London and has the accent to prove it came in with his banjo and guitar. His parents were Irish and it sounds like he’s moved back to West Cork for good. Then Tyler the American we’d played with over the weekend came in and added to the mix. It didn’t take long for the people in the yard to hear the tunes and soon the place was hopping. The cold I’d acquired had ground me down, so two hours in I was running low. We headed back to the house around 12:30.
Saturday, July 4
We drove into Bantry, stopped by the school house to say goodbye to Noel, Niall, Conor, Andrew and Pia, Adam and Melina, Noemi, Lauri, Eric, and Kees. Jeremie left the day before. Many of them Morgan knew well and some participants were new to him. For Bridget, James and I they were all new acquaintances yet within a week they felt like friends. An array of talent and creativity that we were lucky to be part of.
Noel told us that on our way North we must stop at Mannings? Food Emporium, that they had an amazing array of local and regional cheeses and other foods. He’s correct it’s amazing. We had some of the best coffee and a small pastry, bought a few items and then back in the car and continued north. The character of the land changed slowly and we crossed the Beara and Ring of Kerry. We’d been told about a small island named Garinish and decided to visit it. It’s located in Glengarriff Bay. The town of Glengarriff is a very picturesque village. We took a small ferry boat with others out to the island and stepped onto a beautiful garden island. John Annan Bryce from Belfast purchased the islet in 1910. Scottish gardener Murdo Mackenzie is the one who took a barren rocky little island and through ingenuity and composting created enough soil to plant species from all over the world. There are Formosan (Taiwanese) redwood trees, huge Mexican pines, trees from South Africa, New Zealand and other places in the world. Palms, ferns, flowering species from all over the planet. He started the project in the 1920’s and it was later acquired by a trust who employed Mr. Mackenzie to continue his work. He died in the 1980’s. The weather was in the 70’s with sun and bright blue skies. We had tea and a snack in the coffee shop, returned to our car and finally reached Dingle. We always have fond memories of the Foley’s, and Inch and stopped in. We wanted to spend some time with John, Fidelis, Katy and family but due to James’s retirement and other scheduling issues we came in the middle of high season. The Foley’s were very busy, so we had a quick hello and went to find our rental in Annascaul. The map led us West toward Dingle Town and when we arrived at the intersection where we have always turned West towards Dingle, instead we turned right, which we’d never done in the past only to discover a tidy village that we’d never realized was there. As James stated, a small village with four pubs, that spoke to something.
We’d told the Foley’s we’d come play tunes and drove over and had just brought our instruments in when a whirlwind of humanity poured through the door. A large bus filled with footballers and their kids filled the space and we realized the chance for a quiet place to play music wasn’t going to happen. We sat out back to finish our pints, and had a very pleasant chat with a local man, who’s son was playing with Katy’s daughter. Morgan went to tell the fellow behind the bar to let John know we’d stop by in the morning and went back to Annascaul. As we were leaving we saw Katy and had a good chat with her. Told her we’d return tomorrow morning an bid her goodnight.
Morgan had scoped out the pubs and thought one in particular might prove interesting. It was the only one where music was part of its statement. It’s called Hanafins and a sign in front states that “it’s worth the hike”. We walked up with our instruments, put them to the side, sat down, ordered whiskey and chatted with the proprietor John. Another man sitting to the side named Peter joined in. Soon we were deep in conversation, sipping on Skellig whiskey, and enjoying the banter. The way you can drop in with perfect strangers and have them quickly not feel like strangers is a main reason we return here. After 30 minutes or so we noticed that John had turned off the sound from the TV at the back of the room, it was Brazil vs Norway and finally said, “so, are you going to play your instruments?” We like the rhythm of these encounters, of the order of things in an Irish pub. We uncased our instruments and launched into a set, John, Peter and a few patrons listened politely and applauded when we finished. Soon a few more people came in and we played until closing time. Unlike many pubs we’ve played in the patrons spoke quietly and really were listening, it doesn’t get better than that. James gave John and a woman named Fiona copies of The Smokers Cut. Fiona was very appreciative and said that hearing the tunes is one of her favorite things. It was a perfect evening, a chance for us to play in a quiet setting to people who appreciated our love of the music. We’ll be back the next time we’re over. It was worth the hike.