July 13-15
It’s been a blur the last few days. Monday evening we went to An File, a pub in Westport, and met our friends Jackie Small and Brian Duffy. We expected to have some other musicians show but it turned out to be an intimate session with the five of us. We love Jackie and Brian has become a good friend as well. I had been sending Jackie pictures of my instruments as the builds progressed and he was pleased to see the one I brought with me. Brian mentioned that his daughter Ishka was going to be singing Tuesday down at The Tower on the Westport quay. There’s a music camp, Scoil Cheoil for children all week. They’d been in classes all day and were playing for friends and parents outside under a large sheltered tent. They’d were just getting started when we arrived and were slowly warming up. As they played the tempo got a bit quicker and the playing more sure. What became apparent to us was that the music and the playing of it was a community event. What I mean by that was that the sense of community permeated the event and soon small groups of kids were playing tunes or singing songs, much like being in a pub. What the children are learning is the shared culture expressed through the music which binds the community together. It’s a powerful thing and you can feel it.
We sat with Brian, his ex Patty and their daughter Ishka. He and Patty are on good terms and both are justifiably proud of Ishka. We wanted to hear Ishka sing and finally we were rewarded with her singing one of Jackie Small’s brother Tony’s songs. Brian had sung it the night before and Ishka sang it beautifully. She has a sweet soprano and likes to sing in the Sean Nos style of unaccompanied singing. We didn’t hear her sing that style but we weren’t disappointed. We checked out a pub that was close to home, Fitzgerald’s hoping we could play there but when we arrived the Spain vs France game was on, and you don’t get between soccer fans and their game. We went home and played.
We needed to vacate our rental and we wanted to meet with our friend Julie Langan on Wednesday. We rented rooms at The Hotel Newport. The hotel is nice, but the rooms were hot, there was no way to cool them off because air conditioning is pretty much a no go in Ireland. They don’t need it, it’s rarely what we’d call hot. With climate change though it’s not the same, the old ways of doing things are not meeting the new circumstances. Since we’ve arrived, except for our time in Bantry and Kerry it’s been hot. Temperatures in the mid 30’s Centigrade, that’s 80’s Fahrenheit. Nobody here’s used to that. James, Morgan and I drove out to Achill Island. We’d been listening to a podcast about the famine years and a strange story about a protestant missionary named Nangle who was in battle with the Catholic bishop of that area. There are the remains of an abandoned community at Slievemore that we visited and walked through. These were built by very poor and starving Irish families and they’re tiny. We couldn’t imagine how they coped.
Julie has been on the run the entire time we’ve been here. Willy Clancy week in Miltown Malbay, then teaching at the Scoil Cheoil, she said she hardly has been home. We were going to play a session Wednesday evening but the manager of the establishment begged off saying that the requests for having the World Cup game on the big screen were overwhelming. Session cancelled! Julie met us down at The Tower, played a couple of tunes in the session led by Jackie and Brian and had to run off to an event associated with the Scoil Cheoil. She thinks she might be able to meet us at a session in Kinvara on Sunday. She’ll let us know.
We’ve all been desirous of some fish and chips. Last week we went to the chippy in Westport only to be told they’d run out of fish. A real let down that! So, we figured the chippy in Newport should have fish, it’s not nearly as busy. Off to Newport, to the chippy and as we approach the counter the proprietor says, “now before ye order I’ve got ta tell ye that we’re outa fish”. We nearly cried.
July 16
We drove into Westport for breakfast, to do a bit of shopping. As I was walking up a street there was Tony Reidy. I was so pleased to see him and told him we were leaving for Clare and wished him well. He said in his thick Irish accent, “you know Johnny Mulhearn?, I had to ask for clarification and got the name the second time, he’s the man who wrote the song Matty, that I sang at the Cobbler on Sunday night. I said “yes Johnny Mulhearn”, and Tony said “I used to live with him”. I said “when was that?” And Tony replied, “back in 1974”. He hasn’t heard much from him, he’s a great song writer but Tony thinks he’s still somewhere in Dublin.
I caught up with James, Bridget and Morgan at Christy’s Cafe where we had some good coffee and a light breakfast. We drove up the hill to say goodbye to Maggie McGing and Tom then headed down to Clare for our last week. I slept a good part of the drive down, unable to keep my eyes open. None of us slept well last night because of the heat.