A Family Gathering in Kinsale

Friday April 22nd

This day revolved around getting Covid tests because, at this time, the United States is requiring returning passengers to have negative Covid tests prior to entrance to the country. We had to leave early, so I didn’t even eat breakfast. We went through Kenmare on the way to Cork. It was either Cork or Dublin. We decided that we would spend one additional night in Sneem, as opposed to staying a night in Dublin, but this required us to drive to Cork the day before the flight for the Covid tests.

We got there early and the guy there took us early. He barely swabbed my nose. It was like it didn’t matter if I had Covid or not. I don’t want a positive test and they don’t want me to have a positive test, so it works out. Nice work if you can get it. 

After our tests, we decided to check out Beal na Blath. That’s where Michael Collins was assassinated. Michael Collins was involved in the Easter Rising in 1916, the Irish Civil War, and the establishment of the Irish Free State. Very interesting character. Liam Neeson played him in the 1996 movie and deserved an Oscar. 

I had been to the Beal na Blath ambush site once before in the 1990s. I didn’t really remember it, but that doesn’t mean it was different. Michael Collins was assassinated driving through west Cork. Little did I know I’d get the real story of the ambush later. The ambush memorial is a pull off on the side of the the road with a platform that holds a gated cross. For as big as this guy was, literally, he was nicknamed “big fella” and figuratively, you’d think they’d have something more. The 1916 Easter Rising was a watershed moment in Irish history. It demonstrated Ireland’s aspiration to free itself from British control. At the time, Britain was the most powerful nation in the world, and Ireland’s rebellion was the first  of many against the British Empire. Collins was imprisoned for his role and the leaders of the Easter Rising were executed. It was a deadly serious event.  However, there may be a bitterness that lingers from his signing of the Irish Free State Treaty in 1921 that partitioned the six counties of the North and required an oath of allegiance to the British crown. So, there's that. 

My mother had been chatting online with some relatives from Kinsale and had arranged to meet a few relatives on her mother’s father’s side. So, if you been keeping track, we visited my grandparents' Irish roots. My grandfather’s side in Roundstone and my grandmother's mother's side in Sneem and grandmother’s father’s side in Kinsale today. We still had time before meeting them, so we had tea in a pub.

We met relatives from my grandmother's father's side at the Trident Hotel on the harbor. We met Kathleen, she was the matriarchal one of the group. Kathleen was Jim Keohane's daughter. Jim Keohane was my grandmother's father's brother, so Kathleen (I didn't even get a last name) and Grammy would be first cousins. Hard to follow even for me. I just think it's cool to be meeting long lost relatives. You never know where life is going to take you or who you'll meet. 

We also met Cally O' Leary, who my mother had been messaging on Facebook, and Jimmy Dwyer, and his wife Angela. Kathleen is Cally and Jimmy's aunt.  They're all just cousins to me.

I sat down at one end of the table with Jimmy and we were drinking Guinness. He just kept them coming, I'm not complaining, I'm just not used to drinking that much. Sometimes that happens, like when you encounter a long lost cousin, so I couldn't look like a coward talking about clandestine IRA affairs, so I just kept pounding them back. We talked about metal gates, hurling, family events (neither of us were familiar with the other's), Irish history, and the most interesting, to me, was the local history of the Irish Republican Army (IRA). Did our family have ties to the IRA? That's family business for us to know. The IRA is one of the most fascinating organizations in modern history - shadowy, committed, and brutal. He also told me the real story of Michael Colins' assassination ambush. A story that you won't find in the history books. One that only the locals know. You're joking if you think I'm going to tell you. I'll say this, if I had to summarize the story in a single word, that word would be, no, not mighty, the word would be: relatable. Relatable, except for the getting shot in the head part. An Irish story through and through. 

It was time to part ways. Who knows if we'll ever meet again, it was grand to meet for the first time, but you never know with these things. Jimmy said that he'd give me the real tour of West Cork, and I would definitely come back for that. I hope to. We shall see. 

From the left: Me, Mum, Mairead, Angela, Kathleen, Cally, Jimmy

  

After lunch, it was about 4. We got in the car. Mairead wanted to go to Gougane Barra, Amanda wanted to go home, Mum didn't care or didn't say because she sensed the conflict, and I nearly fell in the harbor on the way to the car because I was drunk. Amanda had expressed to me earlier that she wanted to be home by 6 tonight because she had schoolwork, wanted to pack, and was suffering the discomforts of the moon blood. I asked Mairead, "What is in Gougane Barra?" She didn't have an answer. I thought it was on the way home, which would take us at least two hours anyway, so I routed us to Gougane Barra. I asked Mairead again what she wanted to see there. Nothing. As we drove, I did some calculations and looked at the map. It took me a while. Eventually, calculated that Amanda would be really pissed if we didn't go straight home, so I rerouted the GPS to Sneem. Sorry, Mairead. I had to choose to keep my wife happy. 

Saturday April 23rd

We packed up the car and locked the house. Before going to Dublin, we had to say goodbye to Larry. We found him in the cow shed. A couple of his cows came out to say goodbye. Amanda loved that. 

My mother drove to the Devon Inn and we had breakfast there. Amanda drove the last leg of the trip to Dublin Airport. 

We dropped off the car and caught the shuttle. Dublin airport has many layers of security. First, you check your bags. Then you go through security and you think you're done, but you're not done because there's also customs pre-clearance. I think Dublin is the only airport that does such a thing. It's a pain. 

Mairead was on the same flight, but wasn't near us because she booked late. The only thing of note on the flight was the food. Seriously. The vegetarian option was all that there was left by the time they got to us. Good for me. It was vegetarian bean chili with potato wedges. It was the best meal that I have ever been served on an airplane. No joke. It was so good that I didn't even notice Amanda vomiting. When I did notice, I checked to see if she was ok. Then took a few more bites and checked in again. Then when she finished puking and wanted to eat, she asked me to flag down a flight attendant to carry away the puke bag. She didn't want it to tip it over or smell it while she tried to eat. Understandable. There was nobody around, so I grabbed the puke bag, was surprised at the weight of it, and went into the bathroom. What was I going to do with this very full bag of vomit? There was no trash barrel, only a small receptacle next to the faucet for paper towels. I would have definitely spilled puke everywhere if I tried to stuff it in there. Next option. Only a savage would pour puke in the sink. There would be chunks everywhere that probably wouldn't wash down and I am civilized, so not an option. So, I poured it down the toilet quickly like someone trying to get rid of drugs. Flushed. Gross. It nearly made me sick. I stuffed the empty bag in the paper towel receptacle and fled back to my seat. That's how much I love my wife. I sanitized my hands and finished my vegetarian chili. That's how good the chili was.

Thanks a million. All the best. Until next time.