My Grandad had a boat; a small ifshing punt with an outboard engine. Unfortunately, I never knew Grandad Dick, as he died suddenly atfer an ouitng in the boat with my dad. As a child, the madcap stories I heard of family escapades along the Irish coast, in this boat, letf me longing for adventures
Water, water – growing up near it, you never want to be away from it. I was brought up in Sandymount. Well, the address was Sandymount, but to us it was the tail end of Irishtown, which is the tail end of Ringsend. My dad had gone to sea as a young man, with Irish
There was a gentle rain that first evening in Pemberton as I sat on the veranda in the fading light, tying flies and dreaming of fishing trips past. I especially remembered those fish caught in mountain streams in the West. Small trout that danced on the water in anger when hooked and swam away with
The serene, rural village of Lispole in County Kerry may seem like any other small village at first, however the river that runs through it is heavy with history and carries with it an unusual tale. Abhainn an Londraigh flows peacefully from one end of the village to the other, under the old railway bridge
Growing up I was incredibly lucky with the location of our house. We lived right beside the River Shannon and Lough Derg. From a noticeably young age my brothers and my dad would take me out with them in the boat, or even just go for a swim in the lake. We were members of
Rachfá thairis I ngan hfios duit féin-ifántas de ghiolcaigh agus locháin uisce ag síneadh uait go bun na spéire nó ar a laghad go cuar line sail I bhfad thios sa riasc.Anois tá conair dúlra,cosáin hféir agis ionad oideachais ar an láthair ach an mhaidin sin,an chéad lá de shéasúr seilge na néan sa bhliain
An inter-city express train rushed by the top of Valentine’s glen. The crows circled above the tree tops as the pines, oaks and chestnuts whispered secrets to each other. Then once again, the glen was silent. “It’s beautiful here. So peaceful,” said Claire. “Most of the time,” the old man looked down at the river
What started out as a favour for a close family friend turned into a treasure hunt, then a healing place, a history lesson, an eye-opener. Enough of the riddle. Let’s begin. Onnolee’s son, Fintan told me at her memorial service in Pasadena that when she died she wanted to leave a little herself in this
Growing up, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer & Huckleberry Finn, was my favourite TV programme. Twain’s classic gripped me with the escapades of the duo on a raft on the Mississippi. Could we have such a raft in Clondalkin? One summer, 1984, my cousin John O’Byrne came to stay. It so happened that there were
When I was a little girl, I spent many hours wandering the stately rooms and echoing hallways of Castletown House, admiring the elegance of the country house, skipping through corridors and rooms big and small, noting every item of furniture and counting every secret doorway. My mother worked as a guide there when the house
It’s amazing how you can spend your whole life passing through a space, and still know so little of it. Caught up in the clamour of everyday life, you often overlook the backstreets and the laneways. The nooks and crannies off the beaten path from which we seldom stray. The lockdown changed that for lots
Beyond Gallows Green in Cork city is a great lough, where people once skated in winter-time. At the bottom are buildings and gardens, more beautiful than anything seen today. The tops and towers are visible to those who look into the lough with perfect eyesight. These buildings come from the time of King Core, whose