Paddy was off to Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin as she'd missed it last week. I was being picked up by John McKenna from Enniscorthy. He is a DNA cousin and we know it is a McGrath connection - maternal side for both of us. The connection is buried deep in the past but our McGrath families have been traced back to the same townland in Co. Kilkenny around 1800.
At 10 AM as he'd promised, John showed up to collect me and off we went. The scenery was as beautiful as the day before and he didn't have to consult a map even once. That was different from our recent sorties. We were meeting his three sisters for coffee so that I could get acquainted with them.
Before the coffee klatch at the shopping centre, John gave me a tour of places meaningful to his family over the years. When the ladies joined us we sat around a table in the food court and conversation simply flowed. It's as if we'd already know each other for ages. Their sister-in-law Norah took the photo. Her husband and their brother Brian was at work. They lent me a couple of books written by another cousin in Canada.
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| from left: Isa, Nuala, Clare, me and John |
When we left the ladies, John drove back into the centre of town and we parked across the street from Hackett's pub. We went in for a drink. I had to have a small Smithwicks but John had a 7up. It was his choice anyway, but the Irish drinking and driving laws made it illegal for him to have alcohol in any case.
Hackett's is referred to by the current owner as the coldest pub in Ireland. The River Bregagh flows underneath the pub. This place had been the home of John's grand-parents and his mother had been born there. Just up the street was another pub, once run by his (great) uncle Michael McGrath. Nearby was a shop, still named McGrath's that had also at one time been in the family.
The pub didn't serve food so we went into Cleere's, another charming spot a few doors away, and I chose my seat beside the small open coal fire. I dined on a small serving of Irish beef stew.
Before leaving both Hackett's and Cleere's there were brief conversations and exchanges of pleasantries, including about people that John knew in common with the occupant of the bar stools. The world, especially in Kilkenny, is small. Everyone is friendly and I might have to watch myself at home. At every move a conversation breaks out and it is always on a happy note. I can't imagine such a thing at home.
John pointed out a few interesting points of history. On either side of small alleys can be found rounded stones, rather like bollards, that kept the horses pulling carts, from getting so close to the walls that the hubs of the wheels would have been scraped and damaged. We saw a remaining gate from the original city walls from the 13th century. Lucky I was there to hold it up.
We wandered around the neighbourhood that of course I will have to revisit, probably more than once. Driving in the city of Kilkenny is a challenge because the streets are hilly, twisting and narrow. John manoeuvred handily whereas I would be more than a little stressed. I think a walk from a more distant parking lot will be in order.
When we finally left the city was drove to Inistioge (inis teeg) which provided stunning views of the fall colours adorning the hillsides (mountainsides?) and valleys. There was a beautiful stone bridge with a few more arches than the one in Pakenham. Around every corner there was another lovely view. John indulged my compulsion for taking photos. Of course scenery is best simply viewed rather than photographed but that didn't stop me.
We got home at dusk and I compared notes with Paddy who had arrived back before me. Her descriptions of Glasnevin have assured that I will devote time to visiting when I am in Dublin in the first week of December.
Hallowe'en shall be celebrated by a ghost tour at Wells' House. If we survive I shall write a report.
Slan
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