The session at Grainne Uaile was everything we hoped it would be. Julie on fiddle and Tom on box (two row button small accordion), Eileen on piano accordion (but a nice one, says James) Maria on Bouzouki, John McHugh on fiddle, another Pádraig on banjo and several others and the four of us. Great fun and excellent playing. Tom, Julie and Maria remembered us from two years back, which was gratifying. John and Maggie McGing, along with Maggie’s mam, Kathleen, Maria and John’s brother Dan came over from Westport to enjoy the tunes as well.
We got back after 2:00 am and had to get up early to be out of Castlebar digs by 9:00 am. My iPhone alarm woke me at 8:00 and as unobtrusive as the alert is I found it really disturbing. Not enough sleep for any of us. We drove northeast out of Castlebar toward Dublin and are now in Drumshanbo, Co Leitrim. Lovely area of rolling hills, lakes and streams and the clouds have pulled away to reveal a robin’s egg blue sky. We drove through Carrick on Shannon and found Liam Cryon’s pub and he has 3 sessions a week, one of them tomorrow night, and just up the road from us there is a hotel that’s supposed to have a session on Sunday night, so prospects for tunes look great. (Later that day) It appears from the posters dotted about town that most of the music in Pubs here in Drumshanbo are gigs. We know how that goes after all, our night at Hills back home is just that, so we’re not going to go crashing in. Liam’s in Carrick on Shannon though is advertised as a session and features no one’s name, so I believe that’s where we’ll be off to this evening. We walked into the town of Drumshanbo and it’s a pretty little village and quite prosperous; very different from Castlebar. There appears to be a healthy tourist trade and we’ve been told it’s a mecca for fishing and they have a big music festival here each summer.
We saw a poster in the window of a shop advertising The Leitrim Equation, which is the title of an album I have in my collection, but they’d performed two days ago. Pity that. Leitrim has a very strong musical tradition and the Arts Council has had both Lunasa, and Dervish come to Leitrim and do a CD featuring tunes from the area and then a second CD performing with local musicians. I have the one featuring Lunasa and it’s a gem. I’m going to look to find the one with Dervish, who are from Sligo while here since I’ve had no luck finding it back home.
Catch up day. We’ve all been practicing on our own and at times together, learning new parts memorizing new song lyrics all in an unhurried manner. Frankly our Westport friends wore us out. We texted Seamus Hernon in Sligo Town, which is about 35 kilometers west of here. Seamus is the son of Mai Hernon whom I take voice lessons from. She uses Skype to teach others like myself and the time I’ve spent with her has been great ear training as well as vocal training. She sings the old style of unaccompanied, ornamented singing and I’ve grown to be very appreciative of how it’s attuned my being toward really listening to melody. As an accompanist I’ve tended to feel my way through a tune, and to be honest at times in a haphazard manner, so I’ve taken it upon myself and at the urging of my bandmates to learn to play melody. I’ve been learning the tunes on whistle, flute and my guitar. It tunes me into the melody in a much more profound manner and I find myself being unsatisfied with how I’ve been accompanying a set and noticing deficiencies in my previous approach. All for the good and a chance to grow. I just realized I got off into a little side eddy there, so back to Seamus. Seamus plays flute and whistles and I’m sure other instruments as well and according to Mai knows everyone to know in Sligo’s musical environs. We’re going to meet him tonight and he’s going to take us to a session he attends, so that’s exciting! He’s also good friends with members of the Sligo band Dervish, which is one of my favorites, and they own a pub in town, so there’s a chance we may be able to get there while we’re in the area.
We met Seamus in the small town of Ballisodare near 10:00 pm. Tunes don’t get going until late in the evening and that’s everywhere in Ireland. The fun starts late and ends late. Once you’re in the flow it feels no different than starting at 6:00 or 8:00, it’s just the way of it. We followed him and his girlfriend into Sligo and parked. As soon as we got out of the cars Seamus says that he wants to apologize for this pub, that it’s not always the best musical venue and the patrons aren’t always the best listeners, so he’s just warning us up front. We assured him that the whole experience is what we’re after and we can take it in stride; not to worry. So we walked around the corner and across the street to a roaring little pub, Foley’s, and crowded into a corner. This for me is the quintessential local Irish pub. It feels welcoming, a little dog eared, and friendly. This is where people meet and share stories and song, banter, joke and tell tall stories. Seamus introduced us to his mate Dave who plays guitar and we settled in, bought a round of pints and took stock of the scene. As we were unpacking instruments I looked over to see Seamus’ other musical partner Rodney. It turns out that Rodney plays concertina and bouzouki, his concertina was the first one I’ve seen pulled out at a session this trip and we were glad he did. He plays it beautifully and there was hardly a tune that was started that he couldn’t play and play it nicely. He’s a very solid player. If I got off track because of the noise I’d come back to Rodney. He kindly called out the keys on anything he thought we might not know. He’s also a very fine singer and delivered Paddy’s Lamentation with real pathos while accompanying himself on concertina. I love the song and he leaned over to tell me “no offense”. I told him none taken, that I loved the song.
For those reading that don’t know the song it’s a Civil War era tune written from the viewpoint of an Irish immigrant who gets swept up into the American Civil War, and told to fight for Lincoln and loses a leg for his trouble. He’s longing to return home and has seen enough war and trouble. Rodney did it as well as I’ve ever heard it done. Dave plays fine guitar. He uses drop D tuning which is the other tuning aside from that which I play, DADGAD that’s used in Irish Trad. John Doyle excels at the drop D which only lowers the low E string to D. I like it fine but found the left hand stretches just too much. It made my hand hurt, but Dave uses it well. He also has a lot of fine songs that he sings very nicely and I enjoyed listening to. Now to Seamus. He is an outstanding flute and whistle player. His father is P.J. Hernon and uncle is Marcus. He plays with that big, bold sound that cuts across the session. He has a command that only comes with decades of playing. I don’t know Seamus’ age but I’m guessing mid 30’s and he told me he’s been playing this session since he was 15. There are many sessions he plays, but this particular one he’s attended all that time. He, Dave and Rodney played some mighty sets that spanned 6 or more tunes and Seamus played utterly relaxed without a sign of strain or need for breath. It was fun being part of it and looking at the faces of the patrons who were really engaged in the music; impressed that some Yanks were sitting in and keeping up. As the night gathered speed so did the session. I looked up to see a very young fellow sit behind James and Morgan holding a banjo. His name is Patrick and he’s 11 years old. Rodney asked him to start a tune and by God he played really well.
Here is a huge distinction between the USA and Ireland. Patrick is shouldered up with the rest of us, his drink of choice is lemonade and he’s absorbing the tunes and atmosphere and playing his instrument. I didn’t see his soul being stained, or his trying to sneak a drink or being anything other than an 11 year old boy who loves the music. It was touching to see. His parents were over in a corner listening, proud of their young boy, as they should be. There was also a young girl sitting in one corner, about the same age, who was really engaged in the music as well. He started quite a few tunes and was a patron favorite as well as with us. At one point a man I’ll name Michael (I think that was his name) led a song The Rattling Bog. It’s one of those songs where you keep adding the subject of the previous verse to the current one and it gets longer and longer. Michael was hilarious and enthusiastic and we were all laughing. We were out on the sidewalk having a break and Seamus asked what we were doing tomorrow. This is always a good sign, it could just as easily be, ” it was nice meeting you, have a fun rest of your vacation “. James mentioned that we were looking at a session at Carrick on Shannon at Liam Cryon’s and both Seamus and Rodney said , no, no, no you must come to our session tomorrow afternoon. Seamus said, ” look, I don’t want to say that you won’t have a good session there, there’s a fine box player, but the craic will be better here”.
Now a short exposition on CRAIC. Craic is one of those terms that has many meanings. It can mean great atmosphere, great music, great banter, great fun, great jokes, great interaction, but it alway implies great fun and feeling. Despite the warning the session was great, and Seamus told me it was because we were part of it and offered the patrons a very different experience, that they were so used to what the three of them usually offered. As we were leaving various patrons were clapping us on the shoulder and shaking our hands and saying, “See you tomorrow”, So we’re off to an early session with Seamus and the lads at a different pub at 5:00 (early) and then if we wish back to Foley’s for another. Here we go, hold onto your hats and button your coats; we’re off to more good craic!
I wrote this poem inspired by our night with Seamus and company.
SEAMUS
He leans into it, the Grenadilla cylinder perched on his shoulder
Like some sinuous note spouting black snake.
His eyebrows arched and fingers tap, tap, tapping
A musical sketch that cuts through the stout and conversations.
He glances at me with a roll of the eyes and tuck of chin
And sprays a flurry of dancing tones across the pub.
I follow them with my eyes and ears while my fingers on the strings
Do their best to place a frame around the picture he is drawing.
All of us add to it and soon there is a fine topography to view.
Here’s the village where the tune came to life
And the road it travelled from there to here.
The small stream and the bridge across it and the cross where it turned north.
And every pub and session it was shared in and
All the many, many hands that burnished it aglow.
Until it came to this place, this moment where we polish it anew.
Such it is, these tunes. They weave through the land and streams
Take flight with the birds; anoint the ears of all those that listen,
DON’T MAKE PLANS IN IRELAND
So we know that we’re going to meet Seamus, Rodney, Dave and Seamus’ lovely partner Camille in Sligo for a late afternoon session at McGarrigle’s Pub. Beyond that we’re a little hazy. We’re thinking that perhaps we should at least check in on the session at Liam Cryon’s in Carrick, but we’re learning that the best laid plans are kinda futile. We meet Seamus and crew, settle in at a large table, get pints and get to it. We have so many tunes in common that it’s very easy to slide into a nice groove. Luckily Rodney and Dave are in a song mood and play some great ones. Rodney has learned how to accompany his song with bouzouki somewhat in the same manner as Andy Irvine. He studied with Andy a couple of times and told us that Andy is so deep in the subject and has such a knowledge base that Rodney couldn’t absorb much of what Andy was showing him. Despite what he says he has absorbed some of it, because he plays these counterpoint lines through the vocals and it’s beautiful and feckin’ difficult to do. Dave on the other hand plays great guitar, much different than me and I got a lot of ideas watching him. He’s absorbed some of what John Doyle does, but has made it his own and has a nice way of emphasizing the lyric of the song with beautifully turned descending or ascending chord changes that play across the vocal.
Playing music with these men is such a pleasure that I really don’t want it to end. So despite our intention to check out the Carrick session we’re all hungry after three hours of tunes, so off we go to a restaurant that Seamus and Camille know about. When we’re finished with dinner it’s 10:00 and too late to get to Carrick but not too late to walk down the street to Foley’s for another session. Many were back that we saw the night before and were very welcoming. So don’t make plans in Ireland. Forget the plans it’s all a waste of time. It’s much easier and a lot more fun to swim with the current and see where it takes you. The first night at Foley’s was packed, all of us players wedged into a corner of the pub but tonight, ah yes tonight we’ve even more of us wedged into the corner. Young Patrick is back with his parents and he grabbed a stool early so he can be closer to the action. Patrick is learning fast, you stake out your spot and hold it.
Dave and I sit next to one another so we can listen to what we’re doing. The two of us spent the first night sizing each other up. It’s inevitable that two players of the same instrument are going to take measure of the other, it didn’t feel competitive but you want to see what the other one’s got and what he’s going to deliver. Tonight though we’ve absorbed a little of what the other plays and we’re locked in. We get a mighty groove going on some of the sets and have the bottom locked down solid. Kevin is grooving on bodhran and it’s a mighty rhythm section rocking Foley’s. We had great fun, Seamus and Rodney, Morgan, Don and James spinning out the tunes and the rhythm section pushing it forward. Great craic, and it wasn’t really part of the plan. So again forget about the feckin’ plans. It’s a fool who thinks he can plan a night in Sligo or anywhere in Ireland. About 12:30 we took our leave we were all tired and Don was the D.D. and it’s a good 30 min. back to Drumshanbo. We shake hands, get hugs and talk about a session at Shoot The Crows Pub in Sligo, but we didn’t go as far as making a plan. We all know that’s worthless.
That was all last night. Today, Monday morning, we decided we needed to do a bit of touristing. We wanted to go north into Donegal and looked at the map and thought that Sliabh League would be a nice goal. They are huge cliffs that drop into the sea on the edge of Donegal. The highest point to the ocean is 1972′, that’s right! close to two thousand feet down to the ocean. Quite a drop. We meander up through back roads into some spectacularly rugged and beautiful country. From rolling emerald green fields dotted with sheep to rugged hills, into a spectacular valley with eroded mesas similar at times to the Columbia Gorge and out to the ocean. We stop in a lovely little village named Kilcar that had a woolen mill. Everything in it is hand woven on looms upstairs from the showroom. Don found a vest and I found a hat that I really like and then we pushed on up an increasingly tiny road that started out vaguely two lane and became closer to one lane, and then closer to half a lane. Meeting another car is always a bit hair raising and I’m glad that James was driving. He grew up driving on the left side and it’s second nature to him. We arrive at a lot at the top of a steep incline and walk the rest of the distance to the cliffs. They are spectacular but not quite as beautiful as the Cliffs of Moher, which aren’t as high. We looked around for awhile and headed back down.
Went back into Kilcar looking for a bite to eat and scouting out a pub that might have music. Nothing happening there so back to Kenkille where we grab a pint at a Hotel restaurant that’s understaffed, has poor service and high prices. It’s supposed to have wifi but that doesn’t work well either and when I frustratedly go to close up my iPad manage to knock over my pint all over the table and some into Don’s lap! I feel a fool, get towels from the barman and clean up the mess. Don takes it well, but it’s hard for me to let it go. Haste makes waste. So we find a smaller place get fish and chips and head toward Donegal city. We arrive there about 8:30 spot a pub that advertised a session. It’s called the Reel Inn and the walls are covered with photos of famous musicians. One big B&W photo has a young Joe Burke ( box ) Charlie Lennon ( fiddle ) and what appears to be a young Liam O’Flynn on pipes. A pantheon of iconic players. We’re assured by the barmaids that the session is open and we’d be most welcome to join. About 20 min. later Seamus and his playing partner John show up and we sit down and start tunes. Soon the place is full of what we find out are German tourists and some locals and the joint is jumping. James and I are out back on smoke break and meet a fellow from Newry north of Belfast who plays flute and whistles urge him to grab his kit and he comes back. His fiancee also sings and the session turns out to be a lot of fun. Seamus asks if he can record us and we tell him no problem and let him know we’ve been doing the same at all the places we’ve gone to. We play until 11:00 or so and bid everyone goodbye and drive back to Drumshanbo. Not a bad day with minimum plans.
We’re sitting in Logan airport in Boston waiting to fly out to Shannon. We rented a room at the airport Hilton and promptly crashed for about 4 hours. It felt great to get horizontal and sleep well. we’re having a bite to eat and having a nice pint of Guiness speaking excitedly about being in Ireland tomorrow morning.
Aboard the flight to Shannon on Aer Lingus, watching a wonderful film, Jimmy’s Hall. The timing of viewing this film is interesting because I brought a book with me by Diarmaid Ferriter, A Nation And Not A Rabble, The Irish Revolution 1913-1923. I felt it incumbent upon me to learn more about the struggles that Ireland went through, this being the centenary of the 1916 Uprising. I did not understand the complexity of the period, all of the various factions and the elitist attitude that viewed the majority of the Irish population as an uneducated, illiterate rabble. This cut across quite a strata of Irish society, many, from clergy, college educated and within the revolutionary leadership, including the faction that signed the accord with Britain and those who wanted nothing to do with Britain were blinded by this attitude, even those committed to the struggle with the desire to raise the consciousness of the people and establish home rule. There’s something about us humans, we simply have this need to control and deny others the ability to have a meaningful and happy life. We become fixated on the righteousness of our own cause and cannot see the goodness or meaning in those outside our group. This tendency seems to run through every culture on the planet and the older I get the less I understand it. It’s a complex planet.
I forgot to mention that as we were getting seated aboard our Aer Lingus flight to Ireland we couldn’t help but notice a fellow our age coming down the aisle carrying mandolin and fiddle cases. We didn’t have any real conversation with him until the end of the flight and we learned that he owns a pub in Boston named The Burren and plays a lot of music solo and with his family, The McCarthy’s. We exchanged information and gave him a CD. He promised to send Don and I ones from him to play on our show. So before we even step off the plane the spell of the music feels like it’s being woven around us.
I’ll do my best to catch up, and today our first full day in Ireland has already been a very busy one. We landed at Shannon got our car, drove south to Cork and the little village of Ahakista, (pronounced Ahkeeshta). We got established played a few tunes and drove down to the next village Kilcrohane, and stopped in at Eileen Fitz’s Pub.
As soon as we stepped in we were enveloped in the magic of this island. We were of course asked who we were and where we were from and what brought us. As soon as music was mentioned a man named Wayne Sheehy began talking with us and of course there are two Americans Bob and Pam who own a place nearby. It turns out Wayne is a skilled musician and drummer who plays and tours with Damian Dempsey, he also is a friend of Ron Wood, guitarist with the Rolling Stones and produces and edits recordings of many artists. All of this is told to us without any sense of bragging or self aggrandizing. Don and I play Damian’s music on our show, we’re fans. Eileen, Wayne, Bob and Pam, as well as another local Frank want to hear what we can do. We grab our instruments and play one tune and they are quite pleased. Wayne invites us to his studio tomorrow to play and hang out. There’s no food at Eileens so we run up to Bantry and have a delicious meal then head back to Eileens. It’s late and though we don’t play tunes we’re approached by a very nice gentleman named Pat who tells us that he’s heard all about our playing and looks forward to hearing us. Frank who owns a shop asks if we can come down tomorrow morning and play for a good friend of his’ surprise birthday party. All this from hearing us play one set of tunes! He’ll fix us up with eggs, smoked salmon and take care of breakfast if we’ll play a few tunes to cheer up his friend. Welcome to Ireland. We love this island and its people, they open their arms to total strangers because they see how much we love the music and being here. If there are a more hospitable people in this world I’d love to meet them!
We woke up around 8:30, had some coffee, warmed up on our instruments and headed down to Frank’s store, J.F. O’Mahony (pronounced O’ Mannie) and sure enough there were tables set out in front of the store with eggs, smoked salmon, sparkling wine and coffee. Siobhan (“Shevawn”), the birthday celebrant, was there along with some of her friends. Frank comes out with a box labeled Trump. It’s a gift sent to him by visitors from Washington State he’d befriended. In it is a doll of Donald Trump and taped to the back are voodoo pins to apply to the doll. Damned funny! We played a couple sets of tunes and were gratified to see toes tapping, feet dancing and words of encouragement. Eileen stepped around to tell us we were booked for dinner at the Bridgeview B & B, and wondered if we’d come round for tunes after, to which we readily agreed. They insisted we take a break and have some food and then we played some more. Frank’s store is very typical of rural Ireland, combination of general store and post office. It’s been in his family since 1850, and is a delight to step into. Rows and rows of shelves behind a store length counter with many items. A row of old stock boxes from years past labeled with items like “fancy tassels”, “children’s vests” and other sundries. Frank asked when we were done playing if he could give us any payment and we said absolutely not. He gifted us with a fresh loaf of soda bread, fresh cheese and some other small items. A truly lovely man.
We got in our vehicle and drove up over the hill to Wayne’s home. It’s on the north side of the Sheep’s Head peninsula about 3 miles from Kilcrohane (pronounced Killcrowhan’). He has a snug home on land that looks over Bantry Bay to the Beara peninsula where we stayed in 2012. On the stairs are pictures that Wayne’s wife Avril insisted he display, Wayne is a truly modest man, showing him drumming with a band including Bono of U2, standing with Charlie Watts from The Stones, a full Stones band photo with Wayne in it, etc. We chatted had some coffee and Wayne set up two mics in the kitchen and we recorded The Coachman’s Whip set in which Wayne joined us on bodhran and the song Bedlam Boys. Wayne shares with us that he and other musicians he knows really appreciate the fact that we’ve embraced the music, and have taken it in and made it our own. They’re encouraging words, sincerely said. He’s going to come by Eileen’s this evening and drop off a burned CD for us. He’s a gentleman and a delightful man to visit with. Not a pretentious bone in his body.
We got a text message from Janelle Hiccox. John and Janelle are traveling Ireland with friends Cathy and Timothy and are coming down to visit with us for the evening. We call Eileen and she changes the reservation for dinner to 8 at the Bridgeview B&B next to the church in Kilcrohane. We have a really nice meal and catch up with all the goings on and then head over to Eileen’s. When we get there it’s pretty slow, so we pull out our instruments and start playing and not long after people start trickling in, then John, Janelle, Cathy and Timothy step in, followed by a few more locals and pretty soon its full. Wayne shows up with the jacket I left at his home and his bodhran and we’ve got ourselves a session. Wayne is a very skilled and intuitive player, he’s with us all the way anticipating when we take short breaks between tunes in some sets. We have a very fun evening. Charlie, an older gentlemen, sings a song of longing for Sligo, from the view point of a man who’s wandered the world and longs to see his home, its a very touching song and another woman sang a humorous song sean nos style. Eileen has a good evening with orders and we all part company having had a great time.
Unbeknownst to us Wayne posted some comments on Facebook about our meeting and interactions. See below. We heard about them from someone in James’ family.
Wayne Sheehy’s Comments:
2 evenings ago these 4 American gentlemen arrived in at sundowner time in Eileens. They are 4 traditional Irish players travelling Ireland ( Morgan Anderson is the worlds leading bow maker),to learn and play. I know what you’re thinking, your saying “on no they probably don’t get the nuance” ?
Well they dropped over to Ocean briefly yesterday and my god are they extraordinary players . We had a fantastic session in Eileens last night, what great intelligent and respectful players . They are headed up the West coast they call themselves ” Floating Crowbar” and they do defy geographical notions of musical expression in the most humble and unaffected manner. Only sorry the lads in the band ( Damo) hadn’t seen them.
Today we journeyed south to Skibereen. We first went a little further south to Leap and then on to Drombeg stone circle. We wanted to see it, since we used a photo of it on out recent album cover. We took some photos of us standing in the well next to the circle. A cold wind was blowing and by the time we finished at Drombeg we were half numb. We went then to Skibereen and knocked about, and had dinner at a Chinese restaurant. The real reason that we were hanging out in Skibereen was to meet a gentleman named Hugh Quinn and another fiddler named Richie Tisdall. Our good friend up in Newport, Gary Leahy, grew up in Skibereen and Hugh and his wife have known him since he was a youngster, so Gary contacted Hugh and he graciously invited us into his home to play tunes.
When we arrived we found Hugh, his wife Nancy, Richie, and also Hugh’s grandson Eoin. Eoin is 18, finishing his secondary education. We’ve spoken between ourselves about how lucky we are to have this opportunity. Here we are 4 musicians walking into the home of a complete stranger and there’s an instant connection. Hugh has us sit and Nancy has prepared tea in advance. After tea and introductions he asked us to play something. He worked his way around the circle asking each of us to start a tune. They’d join in when there was a tune they knew. Before long we were playing like we’d known one another for longer than a few minutes. Eoin blew us away at how accomplished he is on the pipes, he began when he was 12 and at 18 is becoming quite proficient. They are a very difficult instrument to master and he’s well on his way. Hugh gifted Eoin his set of Leo Rowsome pipes. Richie told us that Hugh was ready to stop playing a full set of pipes and gave them to Eoin, telling him “I think they’re in good hands now”. Leo’s pipes are incredible sounding, beautifully made and highly prized since most of them were made before 1960. To put it in perspective they’re prized like a fine violin in classical music or a prized pre-war Martin guitar. A touching gift from grandfather to grandson. Eoin was telling me that he wanted to send his pipes to The States to a man who really knows how to restore them properly, but he was reluctant to send them. I asked him if he was aware of the penalties that the USA had imposed on anything going through customs that contained ivory. All the decorative turned rings on Leo’s pipes are ivory. He didn’t know about it. I told him to be careful, that they could easily be confiscated and he might not see them again. At this point he’s better off never taking them out of Ireland. The laws are at this point are blunt, stupid and enforced indiscriminately.
Hugh’s in his latter 70’s now and plays a simple pipe, just the bag and chanter, but he’s still a very fine player and does he know the tunes! As the evening went on Hugh got better and better, he was on a roll and we’re pretty sure he would have played us into the ground. We love Hornpipes and Hugh knew some great ones. I recorded the session so we have material to work on. Eoin told us that he went to a festival with his grandfather. He went to bed at 12:00 and Hugh came in at 6:00 am. Hugh must have been a mighty session player in his younger days. We took a break and found that Nancy had prepared a table full of soda bread with smoked salmon and other sandwiches and a home made apple tart. That’s the kind of welcome strangers get in Ireland, at least in the West country. We had a great time We started playing at 7:30 and didn’t finish until 12:30. In that time we shared laughs, music and a camaraderie that comes from a common love and enjoyment of music. Great fun, good hearts, what a great evening! Hugh’s last words to us were “God willing we meet again”.
So, here the story takes a turn. We’d rented a house up in Cullen, not far from Rathmore, in the heart of Sliabh Luachra.. This area is where many famous box players come from including Jackie Daly. It’s also the region that polkas and slides come from. We were also close to Kenmare and Kilgarvan where we’d played a great session our first trip in 2012. We found the house in Cullen and the owner Tony greeted us and seemed a nice fellow. One weird thing: as we were unloading our instruments and bags from the car, he asked: “Do you play music?” We said we did, and he said, rather enigmatically: “Oh, they’ll like that.”
The photos on Imagine Ireland made it look really nice, and from the outside it does but once inside the place we realized we’d made a mistake. The house is an old stone structure, like many in Ireland, but it was apparent it had been allowed to fall in disrepair and then rather hastily brought back from the brink on a shoestring. One of three toilets didn’t work, one upstairs shower leaked into the kitchen below, less than half the light bulbs worked, there was no thermostat, so the heat was uncontrollable and dodgy at best, and the bedrooms smelled redolent of something……… unknown. There was a wood/ coal stove in the kitchen that had a rotted pipe and leaky doors, the chimney rained coal soot down onto the hearth, the firewood was damp and there was not enough coal, which was the only real heat we could gather around. Morgan and I scoped out the kitchen and concluded there wasn’t much to work with in the way of pans, but we’d make due.
We drove down to Mulcroon, a fairly large town to see if we could get any clues for possible sessions. We went to a tea shop called Lynch’s and had some coffee and scones. The owner suggested we see if we can find Jim Murray, who owns a furniture store just down the street. Jim tours with Sharon
Shannon who’s a really big name artist, she tours a lot, has recorded with many musical artists from every kind of musical style. She very smartly learned how to giver her music broad appeal and has done well for herself and her bands. We walked down the street found the signs for Jim Murray’s new and used furniture, made an inquiry was told he was next door and found him laying on the floor of his shop trying to get a reclining sofa to work. Turns out Jim hasn’t a pretentious bone in his body, shakes hands all around and is willing to share a few minutes with fellow musicians. He’s thinking of possible sessions for us when a friend of his walks by and Jim calls him over to see what he knows. Jim calls one fellow, no answer, tries a number suggested by his friend reaches him, listens and suggests a session that night at Sullivan’s in Kilgarvan. Of course we know Kilgarvan we were in a great session there our first trip in 2012. With that knowledge we headed back to home base.
Morgan made a nice dinner and we took off.
We got to Sullivan’s Pub ordered some pints and waited for the musicians to show up. The fiddle player Noreen showed up as well as Ann on flute and whistles, whom we’d met at O’Reilly’s in 2012. They remembered us as we did them. Eamonn, who we’d also met in 2012 showed up with his box, but so did about 15 French players who’d been at a big Fleadh (festival) in Kenmare the week earlier and we’d left our instruments in the car. There were so many fiddles that Morgan didn’t see a reason to add his. There was a fine French piper and they were all skilled players, but it left us feeling like third wheels, so we drank our pints and split. Bit of a disappointment, but like Noreen said after we told her about the house session at Hugh’s, “well I don’t feel too sorry for ye”. She was envious of us having that session, she knew of Hugh and had played with Richie. We bid goodnight, they invited us to a session the following night in Kenmare, which we didn’t get to and here’s why.
After spending an uncomfortable night’s sleep, during which we all had vivid and disturbing dreams, we woke up and met in the kitchen, looked at one another and said, “lets get the hell out of here!” If there’d been a couple little things wrong we could’ve hung in there, but it was just too uncomfortable. The place creeped us out. James and Morgan made a list of all the things that were unacceptable and James called the owners and worked out the details for a refund of the days not spent. We wanted to stop by Inch, Dingle and say hello to Fidelis and John Foley. We had some great times there last trip, so James called and reached Fidelis and asked if they had accommodations. She assured him they did, so we broke camp, it did feel nearly like camping in Cullen, and headed north to Dingle. We arrived at Foley’s early evening and were told Fidelis was cooking (she’s a culinary wizard) and that John was up at the house, so make ourselves comfortable. We ordered pints of Murphy’s warmed ourselves at the beautiful little fire John had made and a few minutes later were seated for dinner. The dinner was great, all of us spoke very little and ate with a relish.
Fidelis sat down with us as her cooking duties were done for a bit and caught up with us. She assured us their daughter Katie was very happy to hear we were there. She was just finishing secondary school in 2014 and sat in with us playing her box (2 row button accordion). She’s a great kid and we’d told her then to keep playing, she’d kind of given it up at one point and was just taking it back up when we first met.
Fidelis took us upstairs to show us our rooms which were perfect, and after our stay in Cullen looked princely. James asked her what the rates were and she told us that she and John had decided the rooms were on them and there was “to be no discussion and we’ll not be arguin’ about it”. We’d known them less than a week in 2014 and they wouldn’t let us pay for the rooms! In Ireland friends are FRIENDS! Such generosity of spirit and welcoming hearts. Family and friends are paramount and having fun, enjoying life, no matter your circumstances, rates high. This is our third trip and we have people I consider extension of family. I care about them as they do us. Westport, Co. Mayo, to Kilcrohane, Co. Cork, there are people, some we’ve known for 6 years and some just met. Frank O’Mahony, and Wayne Sheehy, Eileen Fitzgerald, Siobhan, whose birthday party we played at and her friends who were there, all those we’ve just met, I know that when we next meet they’ll greet us like old friends and it won’t be insincere. Anyway I digress.
After dinner we went down to the pub, which I can honestly say is one of my favorites. Foley’s Bar has been 5 generations in the same family, it feels homey, warm, snug, welcoming. The space is approx. 10′ X 30′ with a full length bar, the back counter full of knick knacks and bric-brac, old photos, Guiness posters from way back, advertisements, glasses it’s wonderful. I’ll try to include a photo so you can get the feel of it. When you get people in it, well it gets very cozy. We started playing tunes and in walks Katie, all grown up.
Now she’s in college and so much more self assured and she’s playing regularly in Cork and has really become a fine player. Two years can make such a difference. The tunes started spinning, the pints flowing and soon it was 12:30. I’ve been feeling a bit coldish, and thought I’d best get some sleep. Don followed not far behind me, As for Morgan and James I’ll let them describe the rest of the evening.
James:
At the start, there was a young French lad in a beret (!) who had an accordion as well, and I asked him if he wanted to join in, which he did, “Mais tres doucement!” (but really slowly!), and he wasn’t joking. Very solid, but very slow. This was a nice counterpoint to Katie’s driving, confident playing, which really has come along in leaps and bounds. She’s hoping to get a gig in Florida playing the music, and we really wish her the very best. Katie’s friends Des and Aidan were drinking at the bar but Des soon joined in with his guitar and his huge, ragged voice, both of which he used to great effect on trad tunes and modern songs alike (think the Pogues). He is a very talented player – very different approach from Rick and with an energy that hints of long days bottled up in the engine room of the ship on which he works as an engineer. One particularly memorable moment was when Katie, Morgan, and I were ripping through some reels and I called for “Devanny’s Goat”, a twisty but fun reel in D. Des dutifully slipped into key but you could tell he was restless – at one point his accompaniment was closer to “Wipeout” than anything we’ve ever heard a trad guitarist do, and I just couldn’t hold it together, bursting out laughing mid-tune. At the end Des apologized, not terribly repentantly: “Listen, when you have to play in D for that long, you have to keep yourself entertained!”
After about 1:30, the parents went to bed and Katie barred the door. This meant that the smokers would have to step outside, but when we tried to, she said “No, no, you can smoke in here – I’ve made you an ashtray,” which she had, out of a beer mat with folded-up edges. “But I thought you can’t smoke in pubs in Ireland,” I said. “That’s true,” replied Aidan, but you see, it’s a double negative: we aren’t allowed to be in the pub at all at this hour, so the smoking cancels it out!”
The evening ended with a lot of songs – James Taylor, the Beatles, Molly Malone (requested by the French lad!) – and finally at 3:00 am Morgan and I decided to head off to bed.
Don and I woke up about 9:30 and went down to get breakfast. We didn’t see James and Morgan, and since Fidelis usually stops breakfast around 10:00 I thought it best to wake them. I knocked on their door and poked my head in. After calling them, Morgan rather blearily raised his head and grunted a response; my duty done I went back downstairs. Don and I were working on our eggs when Morgan showed, and a little after that James. They looked the worse for wear and they asked if they kept us up. Our room was directly above the pub, and when I climbed into bed I could hear them, but I put my ear plugs in and could just barely hear it. I drifted off and that was the last I remember, for Don it was pretty much the same story. James and Morgan were amazed and grateful we weren’t pissed off and that’s when we learned they’d been playing and drinking pints until 3:00 am. Katie and Des apparently leading the way, ah…the stamina of the young! John came in to say goodbye as he was on his way into Castlemain the next town up the road. He’s a quiet and humble fellow and we all like him immensely.
We packed our things and spoke with Fidelis on the way out. She told us that she was glad we’d had such poor accommodations and came up to be with them. “Thanks be to God”, she said because we were able to stay. Again, the Foley’s are friends that we’ll always want to connect with. As we were stepping out the door I said that we’d indeed see them again, the sooner the better and that friends and family was what made life meaningful, to which she readily agreed. Happy to see and sad to part. We all agreed that the next trip we’ll spend 3 or 4 days in Inch so we can have more time with the Foley’s.
We headed East out of Dingle then North toward Clare. The country changes quite a bit, from mountains, to rolling hills and then finally rolling open land that runs down to the sea. We got to the Tarbert ferry and went across the Shannon and into Co. Clare, West through the towns of Kilrush and Kilkee then up the coast through the famous music town of Miltown Malby, where we had our first session adventure in 2012, up through Lahinch where there were loads of surfers out catching some pretty good sized waves, past the Cliffs of Moher and the house we rented our first trip, past Doolin and finally reaching Fanore, an impossibly picturesque village with the ocean at its doors and steep hills at its back. We followed the directions to our next house and climbed a steep, narrow gravel road up higher and higher the view of the sea and surrounding countryside expanding with every turn in the road until we reached the home perched at the edge of a pasture looking west out into the expanse of the Atlantic, South down to the Aran Islands and North across Galway bay into the mountains of Connemara, a breath-taking panorama. We arrived to a beautiful blue sky with gorgeous cumulus clouds over Connemara and Galway. I walked around the hills shooting photos, learning my new camera, and James and Morgan walked up the road. I saw a man walking up toward me and we stopped to chat. His name is Kevin and he was visiting from Cambridge, England. He has relatives living in Fanore whom he said were having tea and “there’s only so much tea you can drink, so I decided to walk the hill, since I’d been here off and on for years and never walked to the top”.
We chatted a bit and he continued on and I kept taking pictures. The new house was such a step up from Cullen and with this view we’ve already decided if we can get this place again we will.
We headed up our hill and down the other side to Lisdoonvarna. There’s a famous tune named The Road To Lisdoonvarna. We’d heard there was a session led by Christy Barry and we thought we’d check it out. We took our instruments in case, but left them in the car. We’ve learned through experience that it’s best not to crash a session until you’ve found out if it’s an open or closed session. When we got there 3 players were spinning some nice tunes. Flute, box and fiddle, skilled players very relaxed and pleasant. Then two others showed up, box and tenor guitar. We sat and listened, the guitar player was very quiet and not up to the skills of the others. We sipped our pints but were cautious. Finally when we were close to leaving Morgan got up and thanked them and mentioned we were players. The box player said “if we’d known that we would’ve played better”, love that Irish humor! The fiddle and box player said, “so where’s your instruments”, Morgan told them they were in the car but we were leaving soon. They told us of 3 sessions, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. I asked them if they were going to be at any of them and they more or less shrugged, that’s right! I learned that lesson last trip, don’t make plans in Ireland. The Wed. session is supposed to be led by John Faulkner, whom I admire very much. He cut several albums with Dolores Keane in the 70’s and is one of those icons of modern traditional music. I hope we get to participate but if not it will be a pleasure just to listen.
