07-07-2023, 02:34 PM
May 6 Cong - Clifden
I was happy to find my car still unscathed after another over night in the Dyke Road Parking Lot. I was even happier to find a parking spot in front of the townhouse. There was a loading zone right there, but a truck had decided the night before that was going to be his spot. We started early because there were a lot of pit stops on our itinerary. I decided we might as well have breakfast on the road since there weren’t any breakfast places open this early in the morning. By early, I mean before 8. A lifetime of getting up at 4 am has skewed my sense of what early means.
Today would be The Quiet Man tour, hitting stops important to the making of the film The Quiet Man. Well, doing The Quiet Man stops and seeing the Connemara country side of County Galway.
Our first stop was Ballyglunin, home of the Castletown Train Station. There is no such place as Castletown except in the world of The Quiet Man. Actual rail service closed at the station in 1976. In the 2000s, locals from Ballyglunin decided to refurbish the station to make it look like it did in 1951 when filming took place here. They did a good job. The station does look like it did in the movie. They major exception being the bridge which crossed over the train and the tracks. We took pictures. We walked around. The Queen Mum opted to stay in the car.
For breakfast, I drove us to Tuam to dine at the luxurious The West Wing restaurant. I guess they decided to go with West Wing because the building is white and there is a huge semi-circular room on the front of the building. There are even some presidential themed rooms in the restaurant. But once we got past the name, it was just a restaurant that served a good full Irish. Fun fact that I was embarassed to learn later was the name of the town, Tuam, isn’t pronounced Twam, like I thought, but rather Tomb. A friend asked me what I was doing in Tuam and I had no idea what town he referenced. Tuam. Pronounced like Tomb.
As usual, I planned too many stops in a short span of time. This knowledge did not lead me to skip going to see Ross Errily Friary. Ross Errily is probably my favorite ruin after Quin in Clare. Most people don’t know about it and there is nothing around it to spoil the views. That being said, when we showed up, there was a giant tour bus with a group of French tourists running about the place. Fortunately, they must have been on a tight schedule as they quickly departed. I’m just glad I didn’t meet the bus on the single lane, grass center line road that leads to Ross Errilly.
The other fun thing for me and my narcissism is that there are a ton of Lynch tombs in plaques all over Ross Errily, including those double family crests. At one point I thought I spotted the funereal plaque that matched the Lynch-Baker wedding plaque from Galway. But I had the names wrong. There were still two Lynch double plaques that I spotted. Outside the walls, stands a giant Lynch mausoleum which is always worth a picture. The Queen and I agreed we could have spent a lot longer prowling the grounds. There is always something new to find, like a dog with a noose around it’s neck on one of the memorials.
Cong is where the film crew showed up in June of 1951 to film The Quiet Man with Cong playing the role of the town of Innisfree. This would be my third time on the tour. I first went with the nephew and my father in 2009. I took The Queen on the tour in 2016. Now it was The Queen Mum’s turn. Remarkably little in the town has changed since 1951. All of the key buildings are still there from Cohan’s Pub to Reverend Playfair’s House. The big difference would be the paving on all the streets and the fact that the sheep fields have become the Ashford Castle Golf Course.
We had some time before the tour started so I went off exploring. I noticed the town was also packed with locals, not just filthy tourists. Today was the day for a lot of first communions. I was hoping to get into the catholic church to see the font from the patty fingers scene but there were a few too many people in the church so I departed. I wanted to walk along the river and take some photos of places I had first seen back in 1980 when I stayed at Ashford Castle. When I came back in 2009 with the nephew and my father to do the Cong tour, I was surprised to see how close the town was to the Castle and that if I had just gone a few short steps beyond the Monk’s Fishing House in 1980, I would have been in Cong. Now, I know the way so I made my way through Cong Abbey and over the bridge next to the Monk’s Fishing Hut. The hut sits in the river with a hole in the floor through which the monks could fish. Or maybe just hide from the Abbey. The whole time I walked along the river, I could hear gunshots from what I guess was Ashford Castle. I think they were doing Skeet shooting. Or maybe hunting peasants in the woods. I’d love to stay in the Castle again, because I remember it as being beautiful but I would have to mortgage the house or sell a kidney to afford it.
Further along the river path, I spotted the foundations for the fishing bridge across the river. When I first came here, I photographed a man fishing from the bridge. The next time I saw the bridge in 2009 all the planking from the bridge was gone. All you could see were the metal struts. This time there was nothing.
I figured I had enough time to go see the Ashford Castle grounds so I continued up the path. There was one new structure there. A small guard shack a little bigger than a old London phone booth now stood next to the path. As I approached, a young man in his Ashford castle vest stepped out and asked if I was a guest of the hotel. I said no. He said he couldn’t let me on the grounds then. How very sad. You used to be able to walk all over the grounds which are beautiful. Not any more.
Once back at the bridge and The Monk’s Fishing House, I found the Queen and The Queen Mum watching a man play fetch with his Irish Terrier. The man would throw the stick into the river. The dog would race across the bridge to the opposite bank and then dive into the river to retrieve the stick. The dog had a spot where he could climb up the bank, which he did, and then drop the stick near his Man. And repeat. The dog look exhausted. The man throwing the stick look exhausted. The man mentioned his dog would do this 30 or 40 times before quitting.
Barry was to be our tour guide for the Quiet Man tour. I’m pretty sure he started the tour but the Queen and I had somebody different for the tour when we did it in 2016 and it wasn’t quite as good. Granted, as we embarked on my third Quiet Man tour, I felt I could almost give the tour myself. What I couldn’t do was be Barry. Barry made the tour feel fresh, almost as if this was the first time he gave the tour. He would also tell stories about the town that were funny. He would give stories about the locals. Many of the stories he would preface with, “You don’t mind if I swear do you?” A tour full of charm.
Our first stop was the dying man’s house which is just around the corner from the Quiet Man Museum. I had promised the Queen Mum Cong was flat. Naturally the road up the from the dying man’s house was uphill. It seemed to me that the stop at the dying man’s house used to be a bit longer but Barry had a couple of stories to tell and dying man house information fell by the way side. No great loss. Fun fact: the dying man, Dan Tobin was played by director John Ford’s older brother, Tobin At the intersection of Riverview St and Main street, we stopped for some quick stories about the local butcher before heading down Main Street to Pat Cohan’s Pub.
The Queen Mum got a chance to sit in front of Pat Cohan’s because during the years they have picnic tables in front of Cohan’s now. The picnic tables weren’t there when I did the tour in 2009 because at that time Cohan’s wasn’t a pub. It had never been a pub, even when they did the filming. Only recently had someone decided people might want to visit the pub and drink there. Although it is more gastropub than traditional Irish pub. Barry got to tell us how the interior of the pub was on a soundstage in Los Angeles and the punch was the longest punch in history since it started in Los Angeles and ended on the streets of Cong.
The next stop was another recent addition, the John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara statue. We had been there for a few minutes with Barry telling a tale seemed to indicate that O’Hara and Wayne spent their time together cohabitating in one of the suites in Ashford Castle. O’Hara, in her autobiography, stated she knew about the story and thought the story reprehensible. Both the O’Hara and Wayne were there with her family. O’Hara figure the rumor was spread by John Ford because that’s the kind of trouble he liked to cause. While Barry gave his spiel with the tour group in a semi-circle around the statue, at one point urging the Queen Mum to grab the bronze Wayne’s buttock, another tour group pulled up. There was some joking/not-joking ribaldry between the two guides. But then the other guide started to do his spiel right behind us. Members of that group wanted me to move so they could take a picture. I was having none of if. I remained stock still and ignored the several pushes on my arm to get my attention. Eventually, they thanked me sarcastically for moving and went on their way. I thought the polite thing for them to do would be to wait the minute until we were done and they could do their bit. But, no.
A few minutes walk down Cong Street took us St. Mary’s Church where the patty fingers in the holy water scene takes place, The font they used came from the Catholic church that we passed on the way to St. Mary’s. But St. Mary’s is a much prettier church. Barry got special permission for his daughter, a catholic, to wed in the protestant mini-cathedral. I took pictures of The Queen and The Queen Mum peeking around the gate as if they were Mary-Kate looking back at Sean Thornton.
On the way back to the Quiet Man Museum, we passed the house that belonged in the movie to the Reverend Playfair. Much of the ivy had been removed from the cottage and more was being removed as we walked by a the owner of the house. He was the grandson of the owner and they had been there since long before the filming. I talked to him for a few minutes about the house.
Back at the museum, we got to play dress up and reenact some of the scenes from the movie. The interior of the museum had been sent up to look like the White O’ Morn cottage where Sean Thornton lives. All the tour members pulled up chairs in front of the fireplace. I’d been down this road before so I knew what was coming. When we did this the last time, Barry choses about ten people to recreate the final scene of the movie. My nephew got to be Father Flanagan as played by Ward Bond. Then Barry pointed at me. Dammit. I try to avoid these things. I also decided to be a good sport because it must be a pain in the ass to get people to volunteer. Although being picked out of the crowd really isn’t volunteering. Barry asked if I had a wife and I pointed to the Queen sitting in front of me. I thought he would pick more people this time, but no, just The Queen and I. I got to put on some of Sean Thornton’s clothes. The Queen got to put on some of Mary-Kate Danagher’s clothes. I was instructed to get down on one knee and propose in front of the whole group. My knee protested mightily but I did. And I proposed using my best John Wayne accent, which drew loud laughs from the group. Were we done? No.
Our next stop on the humiliation tour was the bedroom. I was to pick up the Queen and toss her on the bed recreating that famous scene. My protesting knee gave way for a shoulder that can’t pick things up anymore. I had to do an awkward grab that wasn’t the best way to do that but I succeeded. Barry said a recent person chosen for the throwing task almost knocked out his bride because he threw her so hard she slammed into the stone wall next to the bed. Then I had to lie with The Queen in the bed while the rest of the tour group took pictures. I hope I will not be called on again to serve.
Because of our deep tourist credentials, we decided to dine at Pat Cohan’s gastro pub. One look at the menu told us to find other places to dine. It was all just too Chi-Chi. This didn’t stop us from buying Pat Cohan t-shirts, though. Got to have the t-shirt. We ended up at Ryan’s Hotel up the street. The food was much more in line with typical pub fare. And they had the best signs on the toilets. Always bring your phone to the loo.
My original plan was to spend the night in Cong to see the town when it was tourist free but I also wanted to see a place called Kylemore Abbey. There were places closer to Kylemore Abbey to stay than Cong so I made arrangements accordingly.
Perfect weather surrounded us we drove through the wilds of Connemara. I enjoyed the puffy white clubs while the Queen Mum and the Queen enjoyed the comfort of the inside of their eyelids. I stopped once for some pictures in a steep walled valley that didn’t disturb the sleeping beauties at all. The stop at the Killary Fjord did get the Queen out of the car. After that I practiced my passing skills as I had to maneuver around bicycle peloton that shared the road with us.
My first introduction to Kylemore Abbey was a quick stop for a picture from the road back in 1980. The Abbey sits next to a lake and always looks like it is poised for a postcard shot. On the second visit in 2009, the nephew and I actually toured the grounds but didn’t make it into the abbey itself. I probably should tour these big mansion houses but the tours always strike me as dull. On Kylemore 2023, the plan was to finally see the Victorian Walled garden.
Kylemore Abbey started life as Kylemore Castle built for Mitchell Henry, a wealthy London Doctor. Four years after the completion of 40,000 square foot country house, Mitchell Henry’s wife passed away and he spent less time there. The next tenant lost the house to pay off gambling debts. The Benedictine nuns took over in 1920, forced to flee from their chapter house in Ypres because of World War I.
The Queen Mum would not be joining us on this tour, her strength only allowed her to get to the edge of the parking lot. The Queen and I would be making a quick trip around the grounds, once again eschewing going into the Abbey in favor of touring the formal gardens. Since the Queen Mum was car bound in what was turning into a warmer day, our trip would be a quick. Naturally, we had to take selfies with the lake and the abbey as our backdrop. The clouds toyed with us by letting sunlight shine on the abbey and then blocking the sunlight before we could take the picture. After buying our tickets, we caught the bus for the mile journey to the Victorian walled garden. Any other day when we weren’t pressed for time, I would have walked.
After the bus dropped us off, of course we headed over to take pictures of the white horses. The horses did not know they were in the presence of the carrot lady, so they ignored us and wouldn’t pose for pictures especially when they rubbed their rears on the trees.
As far as gardens go, this was one of them. There used to be a far more extensive system of greenhouses where all sorts of exotic plants were grown but all that is left at this point are the foundations. One of the perks of being the head gardener for the gardens is you get to live in a beautiful cottage inside the walls of the walled garden. The Queen spent a lot of time identifying plants with her iNature app.
The bus only takes you to the garden, the tiny church is in the other side of the Abbey and was worth the visit. The tiny church is like a regular Irish protestant church, only about a quarter of the size. Mitchell Henry built it for his wife and the built the Mausoleum for this early departed wife nearby. The walk along the lake shore is lovely. It was late in the day so most of the people headed back to the parking lot. By the time we got to the tiny church only man dawdled outside the main entrance. We waited patiently for the man to move before my rude American kicked in and I asked him if he would get out of the way. After viewing the interior, only eight seats wide, we headed back to the carpark resisting the lure of a million photo taking opportunities. Once at the car, I drove us back the way we came to try for one more photo across the lake of the abbey. I had to do some screwy u-turn maneuvers to get into the spot but I did it. I could always claim photographic immunity. I think I was in this same spot back in 1980 when there was more parking and probably less traffic. Hard to say if going to the spot was worth it.
The traveling circus spent the night at Ben’s View guest house in Clifden about an hour away from the abbey. We had to suffer through more driving along beautiful country roads. I put on my guide hat, which is never far away, and pointed out the Ross League Manor hotel where I stayed on the 2009 trip and is one of my father’s favorite places to stay. I had never heard him mention it until he requested we stay there on the 2009 trip.
I had only been to Clifden once before and that was only to have lunch on our way to the Ross League Manor. I might have been here in 1980 as well but I have no memory of it. Clifden is a young town, only started in 1812 by John D’Arcy who owned about 17000 acres in the area. D’Arcy pretty bankrupted himself building Clifden. In 1907 Marconi built his wireless station just outside of Clifden in order to be able to broadcast to North America.
There is only one main street in Clifden and I still got lost trying to find Ben View Guesthouse. There is no Ben. Bens refers to the twelve mountain peaks that dot the landscape of Connemara, probably the most famous of which is Ben Bulbin, The Ben View is probably one of the oldest buildings in Clifden dating from the 19th Century. I was able to get a parking space just around the corner. After paying the parking fee, we went to check in. I asked how much the parking would be for the night at the machine to our host and he said there was no charge to park in Clifden on the weekend. The only weakness to our accommodations were the steep narrow stairs up to our room. The Queen Mum got the room right at the top of the stairs while I dragged our bags to the nice big room at the opposite end of the hall.
I asked our host for a nice place for dinner within walking distance. He suggested we dine at Off the Square, probably one of the best seafood restaurants in Clifden. If that didn’t work there were a bunch of other restaurants nearby including another one he recommended called the Marconi. Off the Square used to be On the Square but they changed their name when they moved premises away from the actual square. Sure enough, the restaurant was about a hundred feet from Ben View. The place appeared empty when we arrived. When I said I would like a table for three, the Maitre’d asked for my reservation. When I said I didn’t have one, she said they didn’t have any room for us. So many empty tables.
More walking. Upon leaving Off the Square, I noticed the Marconi was another hundred feet down the block. I hoped we didn’t spend the night running into reservation issues. The Marconi interior looked nicer than Off the Square with graphics on the walls above wood paneling and white linen table clothes. When I told this maitre’d we didn’t have a reservation, she said she would see what she could do. She came back and said they had a table for us but we only would have two and a half hours to eat before they kicked us out. I’m pretty sure we could fit a two and half hour dinner into our schedule.
Dinner at Marconi was the best meal we had on the trip. The service was great. The food was excellent and best of all, they gave us bonus food. The Queen Mum and I ordered the lamb shank which I would eat every night for the rest of life. And that was fine, but after the food was on the table, they brought out three more vegetable dishes including potatoes au gratin which I would I would eat for the rest of my life. Yes, we already had potatoes with our meals but obviously Marconi didn’t think we had enough potatoes. I stand with them in this assertion. It was such a great night. I’m so happy Off the Square kicked us to the curb.
After too much food, we hobbled back to the hotel. One more ugly climb up the stairs for the Queen Mum and we were in for the night.
I was happy to find my car still unscathed after another over night in the Dyke Road Parking Lot. I was even happier to find a parking spot in front of the townhouse. There was a loading zone right there, but a truck had decided the night before that was going to be his spot. We started early because there were a lot of pit stops on our itinerary. I decided we might as well have breakfast on the road since there weren’t any breakfast places open this early in the morning. By early, I mean before 8. A lifetime of getting up at 4 am has skewed my sense of what early means.
Today would be The Quiet Man tour, hitting stops important to the making of the film The Quiet Man. Well, doing The Quiet Man stops and seeing the Connemara country side of County Galway.
Our first stop was Ballyglunin, home of the Castletown Train Station. There is no such place as Castletown except in the world of The Quiet Man. Actual rail service closed at the station in 1976. In the 2000s, locals from Ballyglunin decided to refurbish the station to make it look like it did in 1951 when filming took place here. They did a good job. The station does look like it did in the movie. They major exception being the bridge which crossed over the train and the tracks. We took pictures. We walked around. The Queen Mum opted to stay in the car.
For breakfast, I drove us to Tuam to dine at the luxurious The West Wing restaurant. I guess they decided to go with West Wing because the building is white and there is a huge semi-circular room on the front of the building. There are even some presidential themed rooms in the restaurant. But once we got past the name, it was just a restaurant that served a good full Irish. Fun fact that I was embarassed to learn later was the name of the town, Tuam, isn’t pronounced Twam, like I thought, but rather Tomb. A friend asked me what I was doing in Tuam and I had no idea what town he referenced. Tuam. Pronounced like Tomb.
As usual, I planned too many stops in a short span of time. This knowledge did not lead me to skip going to see Ross Errily Friary. Ross Errily is probably my favorite ruin after Quin in Clare. Most people don’t know about it and there is nothing around it to spoil the views. That being said, when we showed up, there was a giant tour bus with a group of French tourists running about the place. Fortunately, they must have been on a tight schedule as they quickly departed. I’m just glad I didn’t meet the bus on the single lane, grass center line road that leads to Ross Errilly.
The other fun thing for me and my narcissism is that there are a ton of Lynch tombs in plaques all over Ross Errily, including those double family crests. At one point I thought I spotted the funereal plaque that matched the Lynch-Baker wedding plaque from Galway. But I had the names wrong. There were still two Lynch double plaques that I spotted. Outside the walls, stands a giant Lynch mausoleum which is always worth a picture. The Queen and I agreed we could have spent a lot longer prowling the grounds. There is always something new to find, like a dog with a noose around it’s neck on one of the memorials.
Cong is where the film crew showed up in June of 1951 to film The Quiet Man with Cong playing the role of the town of Innisfree. This would be my third time on the tour. I first went with the nephew and my father in 2009. I took The Queen on the tour in 2016. Now it was The Queen Mum’s turn. Remarkably little in the town has changed since 1951. All of the key buildings are still there from Cohan’s Pub to Reverend Playfair’s House. The big difference would be the paving on all the streets and the fact that the sheep fields have become the Ashford Castle Golf Course.
We had some time before the tour started so I went off exploring. I noticed the town was also packed with locals, not just filthy tourists. Today was the day for a lot of first communions. I was hoping to get into the catholic church to see the font from the patty fingers scene but there were a few too many people in the church so I departed. I wanted to walk along the river and take some photos of places I had first seen back in 1980 when I stayed at Ashford Castle. When I came back in 2009 with the nephew and my father to do the Cong tour, I was surprised to see how close the town was to the Castle and that if I had just gone a few short steps beyond the Monk’s Fishing House in 1980, I would have been in Cong. Now, I know the way so I made my way through Cong Abbey and over the bridge next to the Monk’s Fishing Hut. The hut sits in the river with a hole in the floor through which the monks could fish. Or maybe just hide from the Abbey. The whole time I walked along the river, I could hear gunshots from what I guess was Ashford Castle. I think they were doing Skeet shooting. Or maybe hunting peasants in the woods. I’d love to stay in the Castle again, because I remember it as being beautiful but I would have to mortgage the house or sell a kidney to afford it.
Further along the river path, I spotted the foundations for the fishing bridge across the river. When I first came here, I photographed a man fishing from the bridge. The next time I saw the bridge in 2009 all the planking from the bridge was gone. All you could see were the metal struts. This time there was nothing.
I figured I had enough time to go see the Ashford Castle grounds so I continued up the path. There was one new structure there. A small guard shack a little bigger than a old London phone booth now stood next to the path. As I approached, a young man in his Ashford castle vest stepped out and asked if I was a guest of the hotel. I said no. He said he couldn’t let me on the grounds then. How very sad. You used to be able to walk all over the grounds which are beautiful. Not any more.
Once back at the bridge and The Monk’s Fishing House, I found the Queen and The Queen Mum watching a man play fetch with his Irish Terrier. The man would throw the stick into the river. The dog would race across the bridge to the opposite bank and then dive into the river to retrieve the stick. The dog had a spot where he could climb up the bank, which he did, and then drop the stick near his Man. And repeat. The dog look exhausted. The man throwing the stick look exhausted. The man mentioned his dog would do this 30 or 40 times before quitting.
Barry was to be our tour guide for the Quiet Man tour. I’m pretty sure he started the tour but the Queen and I had somebody different for the tour when we did it in 2016 and it wasn’t quite as good. Granted, as we embarked on my third Quiet Man tour, I felt I could almost give the tour myself. What I couldn’t do was be Barry. Barry made the tour feel fresh, almost as if this was the first time he gave the tour. He would also tell stories about the town that were funny. He would give stories about the locals. Many of the stories he would preface with, “You don’t mind if I swear do you?” A tour full of charm.
Our first stop was the dying man’s house which is just around the corner from the Quiet Man Museum. I had promised the Queen Mum Cong was flat. Naturally the road up the from the dying man’s house was uphill. It seemed to me that the stop at the dying man’s house used to be a bit longer but Barry had a couple of stories to tell and dying man house information fell by the way side. No great loss. Fun fact: the dying man, Dan Tobin was played by director John Ford’s older brother, Tobin At the intersection of Riverview St and Main street, we stopped for some quick stories about the local butcher before heading down Main Street to Pat Cohan’s Pub.
The Queen Mum got a chance to sit in front of Pat Cohan’s because during the years they have picnic tables in front of Cohan’s now. The picnic tables weren’t there when I did the tour in 2009 because at that time Cohan’s wasn’t a pub. It had never been a pub, even when they did the filming. Only recently had someone decided people might want to visit the pub and drink there. Although it is more gastropub than traditional Irish pub. Barry got to tell us how the interior of the pub was on a soundstage in Los Angeles and the punch was the longest punch in history since it started in Los Angeles and ended on the streets of Cong.
The next stop was another recent addition, the John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara statue. We had been there for a few minutes with Barry telling a tale seemed to indicate that O’Hara and Wayne spent their time together cohabitating in one of the suites in Ashford Castle. O’Hara, in her autobiography, stated she knew about the story and thought the story reprehensible. Both the O’Hara and Wayne were there with her family. O’Hara figure the rumor was spread by John Ford because that’s the kind of trouble he liked to cause. While Barry gave his spiel with the tour group in a semi-circle around the statue, at one point urging the Queen Mum to grab the bronze Wayne’s buttock, another tour group pulled up. There was some joking/not-joking ribaldry between the two guides. But then the other guide started to do his spiel right behind us. Members of that group wanted me to move so they could take a picture. I was having none of if. I remained stock still and ignored the several pushes on my arm to get my attention. Eventually, they thanked me sarcastically for moving and went on their way. I thought the polite thing for them to do would be to wait the minute until we were done and they could do their bit. But, no.
A few minutes walk down Cong Street took us St. Mary’s Church where the patty fingers in the holy water scene takes place, The font they used came from the Catholic church that we passed on the way to St. Mary’s. But St. Mary’s is a much prettier church. Barry got special permission for his daughter, a catholic, to wed in the protestant mini-cathedral. I took pictures of The Queen and The Queen Mum peeking around the gate as if they were Mary-Kate looking back at Sean Thornton.
On the way back to the Quiet Man Museum, we passed the house that belonged in the movie to the Reverend Playfair. Much of the ivy had been removed from the cottage and more was being removed as we walked by a the owner of the house. He was the grandson of the owner and they had been there since long before the filming. I talked to him for a few minutes about the house.
Back at the museum, we got to play dress up and reenact some of the scenes from the movie. The interior of the museum had been sent up to look like the White O’ Morn cottage where Sean Thornton lives. All the tour members pulled up chairs in front of the fireplace. I’d been down this road before so I knew what was coming. When we did this the last time, Barry choses about ten people to recreate the final scene of the movie. My nephew got to be Father Flanagan as played by Ward Bond. Then Barry pointed at me. Dammit. I try to avoid these things. I also decided to be a good sport because it must be a pain in the ass to get people to volunteer. Although being picked out of the crowd really isn’t volunteering. Barry asked if I had a wife and I pointed to the Queen sitting in front of me. I thought he would pick more people this time, but no, just The Queen and I. I got to put on some of Sean Thornton’s clothes. The Queen got to put on some of Mary-Kate Danagher’s clothes. I was instructed to get down on one knee and propose in front of the whole group. My knee protested mightily but I did. And I proposed using my best John Wayne accent, which drew loud laughs from the group. Were we done? No.
Our next stop on the humiliation tour was the bedroom. I was to pick up the Queen and toss her on the bed recreating that famous scene. My protesting knee gave way for a shoulder that can’t pick things up anymore. I had to do an awkward grab that wasn’t the best way to do that but I succeeded. Barry said a recent person chosen for the throwing task almost knocked out his bride because he threw her so hard she slammed into the stone wall next to the bed. Then I had to lie with The Queen in the bed while the rest of the tour group took pictures. I hope I will not be called on again to serve.
Because of our deep tourist credentials, we decided to dine at Pat Cohan’s gastro pub. One look at the menu told us to find other places to dine. It was all just too Chi-Chi. This didn’t stop us from buying Pat Cohan t-shirts, though. Got to have the t-shirt. We ended up at Ryan’s Hotel up the street. The food was much more in line with typical pub fare. And they had the best signs on the toilets. Always bring your phone to the loo.
My original plan was to spend the night in Cong to see the town when it was tourist free but I also wanted to see a place called Kylemore Abbey. There were places closer to Kylemore Abbey to stay than Cong so I made arrangements accordingly.
Perfect weather surrounded us we drove through the wilds of Connemara. I enjoyed the puffy white clubs while the Queen Mum and the Queen enjoyed the comfort of the inside of their eyelids. I stopped once for some pictures in a steep walled valley that didn’t disturb the sleeping beauties at all. The stop at the Killary Fjord did get the Queen out of the car. After that I practiced my passing skills as I had to maneuver around bicycle peloton that shared the road with us.
My first introduction to Kylemore Abbey was a quick stop for a picture from the road back in 1980. The Abbey sits next to a lake and always looks like it is poised for a postcard shot. On the second visit in 2009, the nephew and I actually toured the grounds but didn’t make it into the abbey itself. I probably should tour these big mansion houses but the tours always strike me as dull. On Kylemore 2023, the plan was to finally see the Victorian Walled garden.
Kylemore Abbey started life as Kylemore Castle built for Mitchell Henry, a wealthy London Doctor. Four years after the completion of 40,000 square foot country house, Mitchell Henry’s wife passed away and he spent less time there. The next tenant lost the house to pay off gambling debts. The Benedictine nuns took over in 1920, forced to flee from their chapter house in Ypres because of World War I.
The Queen Mum would not be joining us on this tour, her strength only allowed her to get to the edge of the parking lot. The Queen and I would be making a quick trip around the grounds, once again eschewing going into the Abbey in favor of touring the formal gardens. Since the Queen Mum was car bound in what was turning into a warmer day, our trip would be a quick. Naturally, we had to take selfies with the lake and the abbey as our backdrop. The clouds toyed with us by letting sunlight shine on the abbey and then blocking the sunlight before we could take the picture. After buying our tickets, we caught the bus for the mile journey to the Victorian walled garden. Any other day when we weren’t pressed for time, I would have walked.
After the bus dropped us off, of course we headed over to take pictures of the white horses. The horses did not know they were in the presence of the carrot lady, so they ignored us and wouldn’t pose for pictures especially when they rubbed their rears on the trees.
As far as gardens go, this was one of them. There used to be a far more extensive system of greenhouses where all sorts of exotic plants were grown but all that is left at this point are the foundations. One of the perks of being the head gardener for the gardens is you get to live in a beautiful cottage inside the walls of the walled garden. The Queen spent a lot of time identifying plants with her iNature app.
The bus only takes you to the garden, the tiny church is in the other side of the Abbey and was worth the visit. The tiny church is like a regular Irish protestant church, only about a quarter of the size. Mitchell Henry built it for his wife and the built the Mausoleum for this early departed wife nearby. The walk along the lake shore is lovely. It was late in the day so most of the people headed back to the parking lot. By the time we got to the tiny church only man dawdled outside the main entrance. We waited patiently for the man to move before my rude American kicked in and I asked him if he would get out of the way. After viewing the interior, only eight seats wide, we headed back to the carpark resisting the lure of a million photo taking opportunities. Once at the car, I drove us back the way we came to try for one more photo across the lake of the abbey. I had to do some screwy u-turn maneuvers to get into the spot but I did it. I could always claim photographic immunity. I think I was in this same spot back in 1980 when there was more parking and probably less traffic. Hard to say if going to the spot was worth it.
The traveling circus spent the night at Ben’s View guest house in Clifden about an hour away from the abbey. We had to suffer through more driving along beautiful country roads. I put on my guide hat, which is never far away, and pointed out the Ross League Manor hotel where I stayed on the 2009 trip and is one of my father’s favorite places to stay. I had never heard him mention it until he requested we stay there on the 2009 trip.
I had only been to Clifden once before and that was only to have lunch on our way to the Ross League Manor. I might have been here in 1980 as well but I have no memory of it. Clifden is a young town, only started in 1812 by John D’Arcy who owned about 17000 acres in the area. D’Arcy pretty bankrupted himself building Clifden. In 1907 Marconi built his wireless station just outside of Clifden in order to be able to broadcast to North America.
There is only one main street in Clifden and I still got lost trying to find Ben View Guesthouse. There is no Ben. Bens refers to the twelve mountain peaks that dot the landscape of Connemara, probably the most famous of which is Ben Bulbin, The Ben View is probably one of the oldest buildings in Clifden dating from the 19th Century. I was able to get a parking space just around the corner. After paying the parking fee, we went to check in. I asked how much the parking would be for the night at the machine to our host and he said there was no charge to park in Clifden on the weekend. The only weakness to our accommodations were the steep narrow stairs up to our room. The Queen Mum got the room right at the top of the stairs while I dragged our bags to the nice big room at the opposite end of the hall.
I asked our host for a nice place for dinner within walking distance. He suggested we dine at Off the Square, probably one of the best seafood restaurants in Clifden. If that didn’t work there were a bunch of other restaurants nearby including another one he recommended called the Marconi. Off the Square used to be On the Square but they changed their name when they moved premises away from the actual square. Sure enough, the restaurant was about a hundred feet from Ben View. The place appeared empty when we arrived. When I said I would like a table for three, the Maitre’d asked for my reservation. When I said I didn’t have one, she said they didn’t have any room for us. So many empty tables.
More walking. Upon leaving Off the Square, I noticed the Marconi was another hundred feet down the block. I hoped we didn’t spend the night running into reservation issues. The Marconi interior looked nicer than Off the Square with graphics on the walls above wood paneling and white linen table clothes. When I told this maitre’d we didn’t have a reservation, she said she would see what she could do. She came back and said they had a table for us but we only would have two and a half hours to eat before they kicked us out. I’m pretty sure we could fit a two and half hour dinner into our schedule.
Dinner at Marconi was the best meal we had on the trip. The service was great. The food was excellent and best of all, they gave us bonus food. The Queen Mum and I ordered the lamb shank which I would eat every night for the rest of life. And that was fine, but after the food was on the table, they brought out three more vegetable dishes including potatoes au gratin which I would I would eat for the rest of my life. Yes, we already had potatoes with our meals but obviously Marconi didn’t think we had enough potatoes. I stand with them in this assertion. It was such a great night. I’m so happy Off the Square kicked us to the curb.
After too much food, we hobbled back to the hotel. One more ugly climb up the stairs for the Queen Mum and we were in for the night.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm