Ballykissangel A.K.A Avoca

One of the main driving forces that began my obsession to come and live in Ireland 11 or so years ago was my addiction to the BBC's famous Ballykissangel. We stopped off in the beautiful little town of Avoca a few weeks ago on our way home from Paris via Dublin to relive the magic moments of BallyK.

Above I am outside Fitzgerald's pub, while Dom and the kids posed on the steps of Kathleen's shop. No locals to be seen these days but it has become a thriving tourist attraction. I am sure Assumpta would have loved cashing in on the tourist trade and Liam and Donal would have made a killin' with their beat up chipper van. Dom and I had a coffee at the pub and unfortunately voted it the worst coffee we have had here in Ireland so far! My love for BallyK I'm sure was partly why we had our own little Niamh...lucky with a much milder disposition!

I recently bought the whole series on DVD and am doin a great job watching one after another...the funny thing is the series is quite similar to what we are experiencing living down here in our little country village. The close calls on the tiny pokey country roads (esp with farmers on tractors), the little local schools, the gossip, the exaggerated characters and even the local parish priest are pretty much spot on. Have heard of plenty of Brian Quigley's trying to make a buck out of real estate...but yet to meet a farmer quite like Eammon wearing his funny green hat though.

Dublin Dom

Poor old Dom has been sent to Dublin to get some more regular work. The shifts at Caredoc are ok but some weeks have been pretty light on. Locumotion offered him 2 weeks straight at the Swiftcare minor trauma clinic (same type of work as he will be doing here in Waterford when they finish renovating the ward at the hospital where the clinic will be....that is IF they finish it this year) When he comes home at the end of May he has been offered 2 weeks as a registrar in the new private hospital. Once again this will be more regular and help boost the bank account.

Im and Shea only have 2 weeks left at school for the year and are both busy studying for end of year exams. They will be on holidays from May 31st to Sept 1st!! Can you believe that. The teachers over here really have great holidays they must only work half the year. Nip and Mac attend school in June but are very excited that I have booked our 3rd family holiday on June 23rd which takes them out of school for the last week of term. More on that soon.

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FHC in Ireland

On Saturday 17th of May Malachy and his little class of 6 lads from Killea Boys National School made their First Holy Communion with the pretty maids of 'Light of Christ' (Niamh's school) at our local church. He was the proud reader of the first reading and looked very grown up on the altar. It is a big thing here in Ireland and all the families were dressed to the nines...not to mention the little 'Brides of Christ'.

Short of family and friends we invited our 2 neighbours to join us for an Aussie BBQ and game of cricket on the back lawn. Well we did manage to light the barbie and cook the meat but eating outside become difficult once the drizzle and cold set in...cricket was also put on hold for a dry day. We had a fun day despite the weather and Malachy enjoyed himself.He is doing so well and we are all very proud of him.

Malachy has written several more stories some with very interesting twists. He is certainly following in his Da's footsteps. He saw an author give a talk last week at the local library and couldn't resist asking the author if any of his books have been made into films. He then let slip that one of his had!! He has such a grown up view of the world it makes me laugh at times.

Bonjour Mickey

A milling multitude confronted us at the train station when we arrived at Walt Disney's Paris outpost. Fortunately Clint Eastwood provided a familiar face in the crowd as we drew into our hotel - The Santa Fe. I think you could build a disneyland in the New Guinea Highlands and still feel pretty much as American as alien invasions and the token fat guys of comedy. That notwithstanding, the patrons were a cosmopolitan bunch, with numerous different languages being spoken in the hour long queues.

This was a real blast for all of us.
Malachy conquered his fears to declare that Star Tours is the best ride ever, and to help Buzz Lightyear save the universe, as well as becoming the star's new best friend in 'Stitch Live'
Niamh discovered the joy of roller caosters, becoming a Space Mountain veteran several times over.
Even Imogen finally got the bug for the scarier rides - never again will she desert her poor old dad as they climb into the seat for the Leathal Weapon.
Seamus confirmed his status as a roller coaster tragic, doing the lot repeatedly despite headaches, motion sickness etc etc. His look of lifeless, paralysed horror half way through the 'Tower of Terror' ride was priceless.

No passing semblance of healthy food was to be seen for miles, but it didn't matter - fuel up on fat and carbs, and get back into it...

After three days of fun filled action, we all had contented smiles, and came back to an Ireland transformed by the onset of warm, sunny weather. Perfect weather for a leisurely visit to Ballykissangel {AKA the small town of Avoca} on our way home to Rathmoylan Cove. Yes, we did have a coffee in Fitzgerald's Pub, and bought ice creams at Hendley's. We are happy to report for fans of BallyK. that there is no chip fat on the face of the Virgin Mary.

Hello, Pardon, and Thank You

The Eiffel Tower was rated as a 'must see' by the children, and while Maggie has ventured to France on two previous occasions, this was to be Dom's first visit. Getting away had its challenges - Seamus's school had previously cancelled his excursion to a neighbouring town for Irish historical tourism. The day was cancelled in celebration after the school team won a footy match!! The new date for the trip was the day we had our flights booked {our turn to cancel}. It then turned out Imogen had an unforeseen athletics carnival on the same day. By a miracle of negotiation the organisers brought forward the triple jump enough for Mo to get in a qualifying leap, and we all bundled off to Dublin Airport.

While we can add nothing to the volumes that writers of all shades have said about Paris over centuries, I feel obliged to record that we found it a truly fabulous place. As a heat wave {22 degrees!?} enveloped Ireland and Europe, we were en route to the city of Gaiety, which then received all the credit for the warm weather and sunshine.

The public buildings are impressively beautiful, the people stylish and courteous to a fault, the streets clean, and the transport excellent. The fact that our collective French language skills covered only a fraction more than Hello, Pardon, and Thank You {That's French for G'Day, Sorry Mate, and Thanks} was no barrier anywhere we went.

We had borrowed a stroller from The Bailleys, allowing Malachy to enjoy the walking tour as much as the rest of us, and the city met with universal acclaim, with at least one child expressing the desire to live in Paris. Mo has picked fifteen possible corner terrace houses, view of Tower preferred...

After two days of city adventure, which included, of course, a serve of es cargo {see photos}, we walked back to the tower late to catch its hourly light show, and enjoy the warm spring air with the myriad other revellers, and retired to refresh for Paris Disneyland the next day.

Thanking the Great Grandparents {Mostly}

After catching Easter Sunday Mass at the Cathedral in Killarney {they do magnificent things with rocks in Ireland!}, we headed north to enter Clare by Ferry across the Shannon. The skyline on either side of the river is here dominated by power stations, but the change in landscape is significant, with stretches of the undulating road being lined by post and rail fencing instead of the more ubiquitous stone walls. The weather, while not prohibitively harsh, still demanded covered ears when out of the car, and rain jackets to the fore.



Ennis and Killaloe both had their enchanting quaint elements, but also reassured us that a couple of generations of cold wet misery may well have been circumvented by our famine-fleeing ancestors. I found the narrow streets with their brightly coloured shop fronts delightful to stroll through, despite the occasional puddle splash as a car squeezed past. The relentless cold drizzle proved challenging to keep off the lens of the mobile phone's camera, as Dom lined up images of great great long lost relative Daniel O'Connell's statue in the main street of Ennis.



Practical and time constraints found us admiring the interior of an ancient Protestant church in Killaloe, rather than the Catholic alternative in which Maggie's forebears were married. {Though we did find tombstones for people with the surname 'Scott' on the other side of the sectarian divide!}

Scenery on the Other Side of the World

The Irish Easter found us in Co Kerry and Clare. The weight of advice we had to see the famous 'Ring of Kerry' had taken its toll, and this became our provisional target while based in Killarney. The children helped us establish our priority activities, weighing magnificent vistae against 4kg wooly mammoth teeth, scenic cafes against Ireland's most advertsied aquarium.
This calculation placed the Dingle Peninsula a short nose ahead of the more famous 'Ring', and I gotta tall ya, teeth that weight 4kg are more impressive than I was prepared for! A Belgian fisherman dragged the largest complete wooly mammoth skull in the world out of a lake some years ago, and the proprietor of a tiny museum in this spectacular part of Ireland managed to secure it for posterity.



The Dingle Peninsula seems to provide the images for about half the 'Beautiful Ireland' calendars you find in gift stores around the country. In addition to observing the natural wonders, you can turn a corner around a cliff face and bump into giant statues of Jesus Mary and Joseph {Herafter referred to as JMJ}, or be held up by a flock of scruffy sheep with pink or blue paint splashed on their backs. {See photos.}



Forgive us for adding a couple of gratuitous scenery images from the Ring of Kerry...

Getting Connected

Having a roof over our heads was a relief. The stuff you get under a roof in Ireland has numerous small details different enough for us as to require some adjustment. Heating systems are of course prominent features, and we quickly had to learn about central oil radiator heating systems, electrical back up for your hot water, and why we may yet regret not renting a newer house with a gas system...

Much harder than getting our heads around the practical details was trying to find how to find t'ings in Ireland. The yellow pages are listed alphabetically, but not by the function you are seeking, i.e. W is not for Walking Clubs, Wallpaper and Washing Machines, but Walsh, Webb and Welch. This makes it very easy to find a business when you know the name of the owner. Oil heating turned out to be under C for Clonmel. Cars, Automobiles, or Motor vehicles are of course under K, for John Kelly Motors. {Get my drift?}

See above for a picture of what we bought after we established 'K is for Car'

Feeling very much the unwanted aliens, we understood that things would take time, and girded ourselves for a period of minor frustrations, hoping we would feel established before it all became overwhelming. Ultimately the make or break frustration proved to be the establishment of an internet connection. This required, along with the usual passport / photo ID, that we had a 'Utility Bill'. Simple enough; but would the phone company send a bill in advance of their schedule? No. What about the power guys? No. The Oil bloke thankfully {by day five of our application} came to our rescue with an invoice. Did the internet people accept this as a 'Utility'? No. The Bank branch, in Dublin, kindly helped with a statement, sent by snail mail {day 9}. "I'm sorry sir, we require your home address on the bank statement".

To cut a long story considerably short, it took three weeks to have internet access in Ireland, as no utility companies had had the foresight to bill us prior to our arrival.

At this point in time all four children were somewhat miserable, and clearly not well adapted to the near freezing, sleet ridden conditions that greeted us each morning. We decided that to blast the cobwebs we'd take the family to climb some rocks et al in the west of Ireland {our ancestral lands}.