LESLEYS
MOTORHOME
TOURS
On completion of work on Wednesday 29th September, we set of in our camper van for Fishguard, in Wales. The journey was very wet with strong winds. It was not nice at all. – Definitely not holiday weather! We stopped overnight in a lay-by at the Welsh end of the M4, with a lorry for company. Next morning, still wet and windy, we resumed our drive to Fishguard and the ferry to Ireland. We were there in plenty of time, gave Kirsty a last walk and had a cup of tea, while watching the water. “Force 5-7 and rough,” read the Stena Line information board. I was not looking forward to this at all. We boarded the ferry at 2pm, and made for the restaurant. – Well we hadn’t had any lunch, and only a quick breakfast! We made up for it and had a three-course carvery. It was very good, Vegetable Soup, Roast Lamb, (there was also Beef & Turkey), with gateau for desert! Lunch completed, we made our way to the lounge area. I sat and read while Jack went off to play the gaming machines. The time passed, and all the while I was waiting for the rough seas. It was like a millpond! Jack returned, beaming, he had won £120 ! A good start to our holiday. I spoke too soon! Once the ferry had docked, we started our engine, ready to be on our way; - but where were 1st, and 2nd gear? We couldn’t locate them at all. So we pulled away - with difficulty - in 3rd gear, and limped the 12 miles to our campsite at Wexford. Although the gate to the campsite was open, there was no one in the office. Seeing a caravan on the site we decided to find a pitch and sort it out later. The campsite was well set out, with lots of hard standing. As it was the end of the season, only a limited set of facilities were open, but they were enough for us. We needed just water and electricity. Arriving at the garage the next day, we saw that not only did they deal with Fiat, but also Seat and BMW. Donahoes’ garage looked very professional and very expensive. We explained our problem, and a mechanic came out, stated that they only usually deal with diesel vehicles nowdays, and took a look. He spotted the problem straight away; we had sheared a bolt on the gear selector shaft, which he righted straight away. Thanking him profusely, we asked how much. “Away with you Sir”, came the reply, “enjoy your holiday”. Leaving the garage we headed into Enniscorthy, and headed towards Jack’s Aunt Kitsey. Jack did not know if Kitsey was still alive, as he had lost touch. She was alive and kicking, and so delighted to see him that she gave him a bottle of Holy Water from Lourdes.
After a brief visit, during which we had an Irish dance demonstration from some of Kitsey’s grandchildren, we promised to return the following day, so that we could meet as many of Kitsey’s family that she could gather together in Donohoes Pub.
ZOE On leaving Aunt Kitsey, we made our way back to Donahoes Garage because our clutch was smelling a lot, and the pedal had risen, making it difficult to use. The receptionist got the same mechanic out to look at it. He in turn called a work mate over and adjusted the clutch. Again no charge, (“ I should have checked it first time sir!”) - even though he had by now spent over an hour on our van. We gave him some money to buy a pint or two, which very quickly slipped into his top pocket. Then we went onto Jack’s Aunty May, who was expecting us. May had “tea” all prepared. Salad, cold meats, cheese, soda bread and cakes. It was so unexpected and really nice. Over tea, for which May’s husband Eamon joined us, we caught up on the news, and explained that while we were over for our holiday we were also tracing the Dempsey family tree. Before we left May had dug out photographs of Jack’s Dad, and certificates from his great grandparents wedding. She also gave us lots of information about the Dempsey’s. Jack was thrilled. We promised to return before getting the ferry home.
JACK’S DAD, JOHN
BIRTH & MARRIAGE CERTIFICATES OF ELIZABETH GOODISON
MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE OF JACK’S GREAT GRANDPARENTS Day dawned it was still windy, but the rain had died to showers. Over breakfast we decided to spend the entire day in Enniscorthy, and park in the car park near Kitsey’s’ overnight, seeing as we would be drinking. Having enjoyed May’s Soda bread the previous day, we bought a loaf. It’s the first time I’ve known Jack to eat brown bread! Our other purchases included a washing up bowl (which was to prove invaluable later) and a frying pan, as my ‘freebie’ was getting very shabby and losing its non-stick. I also visited the hairdressers as I was desperate to have it cut, - especially if I was to meet the Dobbs family. Emerging much tidier half an hour later, Jack and I went into Murphy Floods Hotel for a braised steak lunch, which was very good, and not too expensive.
THE MEMORIAL While in Enniscorthy I first encountered Irish logic. A bureaux-de-change that would not cash an English cheque. I was told to go to the building society! We moved our van up to the car park at the Duffry gate, near Kitsey’s, and had some tea and sandwiches. Many Irish towns have a town wall; Enniscorthy has a gate - The Duffry Gate, a name representing an area called DUBH TIRE in Irish, translated as ‘The Black Country’. The Duffry is the periphery of a vast area stretching from the river Slaney to the Blackstairs Mountains, which some 15 centuries ago existed as a dense forest of Oak. During a rebellion in 1798, Duffry Gate was the scene of the famous battle of Enniscorthy. After tea, we went to mass in St Aiden’s Cathedral, where One of Linda daughters was serving and the other was singing in the folk group. I was amazed, the cathedral was packed – and it was Saturday evening!
We met so many of Kitsey’s family that we lost track of who was who, and who was with whom.
We practically took over one end of the pub. The drinks flowed fast all night, and Jack needed assistance in walking to the van. I’ll spare his blushes, and just say he wasn’t very well! (An understatement!) Eventually I got him rolled up in his sleeping bag, and we settled down for the night. Sunday 3rd October I awoke Jack at about 09.30 with a cup of tea. Surprisingly he didn’t have a headache, but he did have bad indigestion, which lasted several days. After saying a temporary goodbye to Kitsey and the grand children, we set off on our journeys.
KATHERINE, JEMMA, JAMIE, ZOE, HOLLY, ANTHONY, JACK, LOUISE & LINDA We headed North on the N11 towards Courtown and a campsite listed in the book. We couldn’t find it. We had planned on going to the Wicklow Gap the following day, so we headed toward it even though we knew there wasn’t a campsite in the area.
It was still early, so we carried on to see the views that Jack remembers his Mum talking about. It was a place she always visited when she “came home”. The views were fantastic. It was obviously a popular area for days out, because we had to stop to let a party of at least 50-75 ramblers pass down the road. We pulled in at a viewing point, and got out for a stroll on the boggy peat. It was bitterly cold, and very windy, - it should have been called ‘Windy Gap’ but it was well worth the visit. We spent that night in a lay-by, sleeping peacefully until car went by at 2am, and bibbed at us. Monday 4th October Today we were headed for Roscrea, and decided to go via “Sally Gap” to see if it was as good as the Wicklow Gap. Good………it was breath taking. Absolutely beautiful. The weather was warm and sunny, lighting up the autumnal trees with gold’s and reds. We drove along a winding road, littered with potholes, climbing steadily upwards. The road was bordered to our right by mountains, rising from the road clad with bracken and heather. To our left was a pine forest. Then all of a sudden to forest finished and this spectacular view was laid out in front of us. Descending from Sally Gap we stopped by a brackish mountain stream. Kirsty and Jack crossed the stream by the stepping-stones and went for a walk while I boiled the kettle for a warming mug of hot chocolate.
After a long play, a tired Kirsty climbed back on her seat and we were moving again. We carried on heading westwards towards Naas via the Lakeside Drive. Then it was just a matter of getting onto the N7, and going to Roscrea. We went primarily to see Roscrea Castle, which we thought would be completely restored. It wasn’t – it was a restored keep and gardens, and the towers were under reconstruction.
We made our way to the Streamstown Camp site, about 1.5 miles from Roscrea. We weren’t the only campers. A caravan and campervan joined us. It was a really good site. Hard standing, showers, launderette, games room, and even a camper’s kitchen. It was all incredibly clean, and the showers were hot. It wasn’t long before Jack had made a new friend, Adam, the son of the campsite warden. Adam was learning to play Hurley at school. Jack hadn’t picked a stick up for at least 20 years. They had great fun, if Adam was anything to go by. – He kept coming up and asking if Jack could come out and play. Jack couldn’t because I had his dinner ready!
Soon it was too dark to see, and Adam went home, and we sat reading until bedtime. It was to be one of the coldest nights yet, due to the clear skies of the day. Tuesday 5th October We had a ground frost first thing! It was cold! After a cooked breakfast we set off, cutting across country to Portumna, before picking up the road for Galway and our next stop Spiddal, where the Glotech factory used to be. The potholes in the roads got worse the further west we went. There were plenty of signs about warning of temporary road surfaces, or road works but not a lot being done. I suggested that Murphy was in England repairing our roads!
We found our campsite with ease. We were doubtful about it at first, as the old site office was derelict, and someone had put a chair through the glass door to the telephone booth. However, we were here and the other couple on the site seemed very nice, so we found a pitch and connected into the electricity. No one was in to take our fees, so we walked back into Spiddal, and browsed around the craft centre. It was several little cottage type buildings set around a courtyard. One was a weaver, another a potter, and also a candle maker and wood turner. It was very nice but very pricey.
GALWAY BAY FROM SPIDDAL We wandered back towards our campsite, marvelling at the Irish stonewalls, which were so different from the Cornish variety. These were lacy. It looked as though they would fall over with the next puff of wind.
The wardens were at home when we returned so we paid for one night, and went and used the showers, which were nice and comfortably hot.
We got up early as we had planned to tour the Connemarra Mountains. After several wrong turns that led us to dead ends overlooking Galway bay, we were on our way.
It was a dull and overcast day, and the roads were very bad; but we took the scenic route around the coastline as far as Clifden. Most of our route cut through peat bogs. It was interesting to see huge mounds of this “Black Gold” stacked up by the roadside.
It was a little un-settling too, as the roads were so narrow, and hole ridden. It would be easy to be bounced off the edge of the road into the blackish water and bog.
By the time we had reached Clifden, it was raining, - hard. However, we persevered up the west coast, stopping for homemade soup and soda bread in a craft shop at Streamstown. While in the craft shop Jack tried on a jacket that made him look as though he had not got a neck. – I didn’t think it suited him and said so. Further up the west coast we came across Killary Harbour, which was quite beautiful, even through the mist and drizzle.
Further on we came across a sign for the “Quiet man bridge”. Strangely enough we had watched the film the previous evening, without being aware we were in the area in which it was filmed. It was with relief that we reached Spiddal campsite once again. I will say one thing for it though; the journey was good exercise for the bum! Thursday 7th October Today we start heading south, but still following the coastline to start with, around the southern edge of Galway Bay as far as Ballyvaughn. Here we turned off slightly inland to cross an area called the Burren. It was really weird. A moonscape. There were fields and fields of rocks bordered by stonewalls.
Amongst these stones were megalithic tombs, and some rare wild flowers. It wasn’t a very hospitable place. We continued on our way toward Ennis, passing Dysert O’Dea’s Church and Tower (only open weekends during October).
We stopped at a golf hotel and country club for lunch in Clarecastle. It was quite pleasant, although lacking in atmosphere. The bar was a huge barn of a room, mainly empty with the exception of us, and a party of American tourists. (How do they get the atmosphere of a country staying in large impersonal hotels like that?) We encountered two coach parties of Americans, and thought them to be very demanding, opinionated and loud. We tried to give them a wide berth. From Clarecastle we continued southward toward Limerick. We were headed for a campsite at a place called O’Brien’s bridge. We reached eventually, even though we went full circle round Doon Lough to get there. (Irish road signs leave a lot to the imagination – obviously I didn’t have any!) Shannon Cottage campsite was in a lovely setting between the canal and the River Shannon.
The campsite was clean, spacious friendly and busy. It seemed as though it was the half way mark for the southern half of Ireland tour! We met lots of people with whom we swapped notes on ‘what to see… where to stay’…etc. That evening we walked along the River Shannon, enjoying the air before dinner. The weather had dried up, but the ground was very muddy, so we had a soggy Kirsty to dry off before going back into the van. We decided to do our laundry while we had the opportunity, and even got Kirsty’s towels clean and dry once again. Friday 8th October We were headed southwest to Killarney via Tralee. A New Zealand couple we had met at O’Brien’s Bridge had told us that the Ring of Dingle was nicer than the Ring of Kerry. We broke our journey at Tralee, to jet wash the van down. (It was filthy), and to have some lunch in McDonalds. After lunch we set off again following the coast road on the northern edge of the peninsula, as far as Carrigagharoe Point. From here we had good views across Tralee Bay.
They were the last views we had. We continued nearly to Dingle, and all the while the weather got worse. Knowing there were no campsites open in this area, we decided to call it a day. As soon as we had turned round, and gone a few miles up the coast, heading inland, the weather brightened. We were not meant to go there! White Bridge campsite in Killarney was easily found. It was called by other campers we had met, as “Fleming’s”, and came highly recommended. It was excellent. The toilets and showers were really clean, and the showers, which were operated by 50p coins were hot with adjustable temperature controls. Luxury! After booking in we walked into town. It took about 30 minutes or so, along unlit roads. We decided to get a taxi back. After wandering the shops, browsing for souvenirs, we made our way to Hannigans for dinner. We both had vegetable soup, then Jack indulged himself with a T-bone steak, while I enjoyed a sirloin steak, followed by apple pie and ice cream. After dinner an Irish Folk Duo, who were very good, entertained us. Jack sang along as they sang all the old songs he knew. Not wanting to be locked out of the campsite I dragged him away at 11.00pm. – Just at the right time too, as the pubs are supposed to close at that time, although many don’t. The Garda are trying to clamp down on after hours drinking. Our taxi ride back cost £4, and the gates were still open. Saturday 9th October A slightly overcast day dawned. We decided to fore-go a scenic drive, and have a day on foot. It would give Jack a rest from driving, and Kirsty extra exercise. We visited Killarney’s National Park. It was well worth it, and the weather brightened too!
We wandered down towards Lough Leane, the largest lake in the park, where Kirsty had a swim.
The water was very cold, so we cut her pleasure short. While we were throwing her stick a Jaunting cart went over the bridge behind us. I had only seen them in films. It was amazing. We continued our walk along the lakeside through Monks Wood, which gave beautiful views over the lake. There once was a little village in a deep valley, reputed to be the most beautiful in Ireland. The pride of the village was a girl named Nora who, every evening, went down with the other girls to the village well for water. The well was special, the gift of a fairy, but had to be covered when the water was drawn because the fairy promised destruction if sunlight ever hit the water. As time went by, Nora fell in love with a soldier who came to the glen, but she was forbidden to meet with him. One evening he met her at the well and implored her to leave with him, and she refused to go every time he asked her on the way home. That night she slept well, but on waking remembered that she had forgotten to cover the well. She ran to where it was, but the sun had risen, and the well had become a torrent. She began to flee, and her lover heard her screaming and tried to help her to escape. But the flood increased until they both drowned, and where that peaceful village once stood, the Lakes of Killarney now spread them selves to the sun. The monks of Muckross Abbey, after many hard years, forced the devil out of Muckross by continuous exorcisms. He left in a fit of rage, but determined to harass and plague the monks of Innisfallen Island instead, and tore a piece of land from the shore and threw it into the lake. From there his plan worked well, and the monks took many years to finally subdue him by cross, bell and book. The Island is called “The Devil’s Island” to this very day.
Once through Monks Wood we walked towards Muckross House.
The house was quite imposing. It is now a Victorian museum. We didn’t go in because we thought they wouldn’t appreciate muddy doggie footprints on the plush carpets. We sat in the stable yard for tea and a sticky cake, while watching the black birds swoop for crumbs the way sparrows do elsewhere. They were beautifully coloured, shining very dark glossy green and blue in the sun light. The stable buildings had been converted into a restaurant and gift shop complex, which was stuffed full of souvenirs.
Slowly we made our way back to the van, and drove into Killarney town centre, parking in a side street while we did some shopping. We had timed our walk well, as it had now begun to rain. We bought many of our presents to take back home for our families, as well as restocking our provisions in “Tesco Ireland”. Having decided earlier to come back into town to eat, we booked a taxi to pick us up from the campsite at 7pm. We were dropped off outside Hannigans, where we ate a more modest meal than the previous evening. “The Quillan Brothers”, who played a real mixed bag of music, provided the evening’s entertainment. We decided that we preferred the previous evenings group.
Sunday 10th October Today we headed South East for Cork. Because I wanted to see the Blarney Stone, we set off direct across country instead of following the coast as we had planned. The village of Blarney was quite busy, even though it was 11am on a Sunday. After chatting to the lady in the kiosk, joking that we were two kids, and could we go half price, Jack got us admitted as “students”. – He’d been here before. I’m sure he’d swallowed the stone on a previous visit! The walk to the castle was lovely. The grounds were landscaped, and blazing autumn colours. Three rivers meet in the castle grounds. The Rivers Martin, Shournagh and the Blarney. Towering over it all was Blarney Castle, an enormous pile of stonework that has withstood the ravages of war, weather and time for over 500 years.
The opening on the right is the dog kennel, where the dog barked to warn the sentries of the presence of strangers. Jack is standing in the Sentry Box, where a rotation of armed guards did duty by day and by night. Like the ancient lords of Blarney we paused on the battlements to admire the panoramic view of the countryside.
Leaving the castle, we wandered around the village for a while looking for some lunch. We weren’t hungry enough for a full Sunday roast, which is all that was being offered. So we continued towards Cork, hoping to find somewhere appealing. Our campsite for the night was opposite Cork airport. We found the road easily enough, but as it was still lunch time, decided to continue on towards Kinsale, and see if we could find a bar snack, and a beach for Kirsty to have a run on. Kinsale village was approached along a “causeway” crossing and re-crossing a tidal river. It was quite a pleasant drive. The village appeared to be quite busy, - we soon found out why. The market place was hosting a “French food and wine Fair”. We wandered through but were not tempted to try any of the wines or champagnes. We found a bistro style coffee shop for lunch. I had mozzarella and tomatoes on a garlic baguette, Jack had steak sandwich with chips. The meal was enormous! We came out feeling podged! Wandering around the village after lunch, browsing the gift shops, we came across Kinsale Crystal. A tiny little shop, where Gerry Daly cut his own crystal. He is a former Waterford craftsman, and has revived the formerly extinct method of deep-cutting. It was beautiful. It had a crisp sharp finish, with a brilliant reflective sparkle. We bought three pieces as presents. Later I was to wish we had bought more, as Kinsale crystal do not supply other retail outlets. However, we were due to visit Waterford Crystal, and had high expectations. Leaving Kinsale we decided to try and find the campsite from a different direction. It was a mistake. The signs disappeared after the first one, and we ended up driving in a full circle. The campsite was approached on a road to an industrial estate. Once inside the campsite, we saw long wet grass, and our spirits sank. However, we went along to the house to try and book in. We were advised to use the hard standing. (We hadn’t seen it on arrival). It was behind a hedge. Acres of flood lit gravel. Half of which housed mobile homes, mainly occupied. It appeared to be a transit camp, or home for tinkers. We were slightly wary. We need not have been. We had a very quiet night. The amenities left a little to be desired. There were no toilet seats to the loos, and although clean, were showing signs of age. The electricity hook-up points were sockets on leads under up-turned oil barrels. We found them heavy and awkward to lift.
Monday 11th October After bacon sandwiches for breakfast, we set off for Waterford and the Crystal Factory. It was easier to find than we expected. It was situated on the main Cork to Waterford road. We arrived just in time to join a tour, which cost us £3 each. We mounted a coach, which took us 500 yards to the factory building where the tour started. We followed the process from blowing glass through to cutting and polishing. It was interesting, and I wouldn’t have missed it, but we sense that it is just a front. Waterford would like visitors to believe that all their crystal is hand cut. We doubt this. A computer carries out initial grid marking on the glass. All the cuts are geometric. If a computer can be programmed to follow the contours of a glass and draw on it, why not cut it? Also, the sales output through retail shops is vast. If all pieces are made in Waterford, and cut by hand, the factory could not cope with the demand. (We did find out later, that some of Waterford’s crystal is cut in third world countries). All the employees of Waterford are on piecework topped up with a small basic wage. Waterford have abandoned deep cutting their glass, because the failure rate and breakages were too high. An interesting day. Due to the lateness of the year, many campsites were closed for the season. We now had two options. To go back the way we came or carry on to Wexford. We carried on toward Wexford. As we thought, the campsite was closed. Our nearest one was at Rosslare, or we could camp in the car park at Enniscorthy. We went to Rosslare. The campsite was really nice, and quite empty, although we were to be joined later by two others. The showers were hot, and on the whole it was clean and well cared for. There was no hard standing, but the ground was hard packed grass covered sand.
After setting up we took Kirsty on the beach, which was just a short walk through the static vans. There were miles of deserted beach. Kirsty loved it. – Doggie heaven!
PERHAPS THIS IS A BIT BIG Tuesday 12th October Today we return to Enniscorthy. Jack has an appointment in St Aiden’s cathedral. He wants copies of his parent’s birth and marriage certificates. Jacks Dad was born in the parish of Oulart, a suburb of Enniscorthy. His Mum was born in Enniscorthy, confirmed and married in the Cathedral.
ST AIDEN’S CATHEDRAL Larry, the sacristician, was very helpful once we had explained what we wanted. John Dempsey’s baptism certificate was produced quickly. It took longer to find Elizabeth Dwyer’s, - she was older than Jack thought. Jack also found out that she had a sister, Mary, that no one knew about. Mary apparently died at, or shortly after, her birth. Leaving the Cathedral we went and saw Aunt Kitsey, and collected Zoë who was off school through sickness. Zoë took us to Katherine’s house in The Shannon. Katherine, Zoë, Holly, and Holly’s dog Sandy, joined us in a walk up Vinegar Hill. Jack wanted to climb Vinegar Hill the first week we had arrived, but was too unwell to do so. Now he had a clear head. Vinegar Hill is visible from Aunt Kitsey’s house. It is due East of Enniscorthy, rises to 391 feet above sea level, and is 13 acres of grassland and gorse, topped with an outcrop of bare volcanic rock. HOLLY & SANDY ON VINEGAR HILL
The hill was the principal camp of the United Irish Insurgents during the 1798 rebellion. Following the capture of Enniscorthy in the first early days of the rebellion, the insurgents set up camp on the hill. The 17th century windmill was used as a makeshift prison during the rebellion. It remains today as an 18ft stump, and is a focal point on the hill. One of the most decisive battles in Irish history took place in the vicinity of Vinegar Hill on June 21, 1798. The Crown Forces defeated the United Irish insurgents in an early morning battle. Hundreds of camp followers were killed in the follow up operation. The defeat of the insurgents was a turning point in the rebellion. The name Vinegar Hill is remembered in song and stories because of the tragic events on that day. Descending Vinegar Hill, we went past the house where Jacks Mother was supposed to have been born. Later we found this was not so, although she lived there later. We also passed an Irish landmark, The 21 Steps. (There are 23 of them).
Wednesday 13th October Once again we made our way towards Enniscorthy, to say goodbye to Aunty May. May was obviously not expecting us until the afternoon, because she was having a suite delivered. The settee was too big to make the sharp turn into her sitting room, and had wedged in the doorway. Instead of removing it and starting again, or taking the easy option and putting it through the front window, Eamon, her husband, had removed the doorframe, and knocked chunks of wall out! Irish logic? We did however, get the chance to meet Dolores, May and Eamon’s daughter, and one of their many sons. They have nine children, ranging from 35 to 13.
Jack, Dolores, May and After tea and cakes, including some of Dolores wedding cake, we made our way back into Enniscorthy to visit the castle and to try to obtain more documents from St Aidan’s Cathedral.
Once inside the Castle, we stood chatting with the lady behind the desk, while she obtained change, and unlocked everywhere. She told us about a publication which provided information gleaned in the 1891, 1901 and 1911 census. She did not have a copy, but phoned the local bookshop for us to see if they were in stock. During the course of our conversation, the lady behind the tourist information desk asked Jack which family he was tracing. On saying Dwyer, she became interested. She was a Dwyer. It turned out that she was the granddaughter of Edward Dwyer, the brother of Dennis, Jacks grandfather. She told us that Jim Dwyer, the other brother went to Boston in America, and Edward Dwyer went to England. She was born in Bedford, went to the same school as Jack, and was confirmed in the same church! It is a very small world.
While in the castle we discovered a photograph of Jacks grandfather who was a member of the Wexford Junior Hurling Champions in 1913. Sadly our attempts to photograph it were not very successful.
Leaving the Castle, we headed for the bookshop, and bought our own copy of the Enniscorthy census. This showed some interesting trivia, including the fact that Jacks Grandfather and his brothers all lived next door to each other in The Shannon. It was Larry’s day off when we got to the Cathedral, so we came away empty handed. Arriving at Kitsey’s house, we were surprised and delighted at the farewell presents they had bought for us. Kitsey gave us two large wine glasses; Katherine gave us a milk jug and sugar bowl patterned with shamrocks. Jemma baked Jack a large Jam Tart, in return for his Kangaroo skin hat which he had promised her, and gave me a fridge magnet of Ireland. Kathy had got us there under false pretences; she had made a pan of Irish stew, and fed us before we left. It was delicious. We just had time to give Kirsty a play on the beach at Rosslare before it got dark. Thursday 14th October
We spent the day in Wexford. Jack had decided that he would like an Irish passport. – It is his heritage. So we set out for the library to ask where the registrar was. We thought it would be easy to find because on every street there was a local map. We did find the library. It was closed. – Permanently! On asking at an art gallery, we were told that we would have been starting out at the right place 3 months ago! After extracting directions we set off. It was the other end of town. The staff were very helpful, and photocopied a street map for us free of charge. We had to go back the way we came to the clinic, which also housed the registrar. Jack got copies of his parents’ birth certificates, and was directed to the post office to obtain a passport application. On reading it he discovered that he also needed their marriage certificate. We decided to go back after lunch, which we had in a baked potato shop. Later wandering the streets, killing time while waiting for the registrars office to re-open, Jack appeared to bend down to his ankle, which had been giving him some pain. He straightened, and in his hand was a rolled bank note. Moving away from the bookmakers doorway, he stopped to look at his “findings”. The roll was not a bank note, - it was ten £10 notes! (converted into English money it was £129). Wexford was preparing for an Opera Festival that evening, complete with large firework display. They had decorated the harbour with paper swans, which looked very attractive. Sadly the photograph doesn’t do them justice.
That evening we were joined at the camp site by the New Zealand couple we had met at O’Briens Bridge. They had gone up to Belfast, but also visited Sally gap on our recommendation. It was good to swap stories. They were also headed for home the next day. Friday 15th October An early departure. We ensured the people next door to us were up, as they were also catching the same ferry at 09.00.
Once again we were the first of the high vehicles to board the ferry, and parked right in front of the doors. The Captain said it was to be a comfortable crossing, force 4-6 and calm. It was the same as our crossing out. As on our previous crossing, we made our way to the restaurant and tucked into a full cooked breakfast. This passed a good deal of the time. Soon we were docking. This time we had gears, and speedily made our way toward Taunton and Nancy’s, where we told of our adventures, and had a good nights sleep in a proper bed before retuning to Milhanger. Footnotes
Wexford Corporation, Ferrybank Caravan Park Tel. 00 353 /53 44378 Mr K Stanley. Streamstown Caravan and Camping Park, Roscrea. Tel. 00 353 / 0505 21519 Mr P Cooney. Spiddal Caravan and Camping Park, River Road, Spiddal Tel. 00 353 / 91 83372 Shannon Cottage Caravan and Camping Park, Tel. 00 353 / 061 377118 Mrs J Fleming. Whitebridge Caravan and Camping Park, Ballycasheen, Killarney. Tel. 00 353 / 64 31590 Kinsale Crystal Web site – www.kinsalecrystal.ie e-mail – sales@kinsalecrystal.ie Mr J Murphy Bienvenue Ferry Caravan and Camping Park tel. 00 353 / 21 312711 Mr T Byrne. Burrow Holiday Park, Rosslare. Tel. 00 353 / 53 32190 |
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