HURLING ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON

July 4, 2004

We awakened on Independence Day to a sunny, blue sky.  After breakfast we headed out on another bike ride, out along the green country roads in a nice loop.

Along the way we kept seeing signs directing us to an historic site and a Family Museum.  We decided to stop by, just because it was a nice, sunny day and we had been riding for about 20 miles and it was a good time to take a break.

We rode along the lane and at the church we met the parishioners just leaving their Sunday service.  Mr. Richard Donovan remained behind for a bit to give us some background and information on the church.  He also urged us to come down to the house after we were done.

We visited the little stone chapel, which still hosts a congregation of about 50 people.  Inside the chapel we found a beautifully carved altar, podium and nave.  We explored the old cemetery, noting headstones with dates from the 18^th century.

Proceeding along the designated path, we visited the ancient castle site, the holy well and then went on past the tearoom to the Family Museum.  I was not expecting much, a few rusty plows and a tractor, perhaps, but I was in for a surprising treat.

The Donovan Family Museum, culled from attics and basements, includes extensive and interesting collections of all manner of items from 19^th century life.  Button collections, handmade laces, period clothing, sketchbooks, baby clothes, stichery samples, cookbooks, kitchen tools and implements, and farm tools.  In addition, we enjoyed examining copies of 16^th and 17^th century documents signed by various Donovans, and examined the family tree, which documents the origin of the rebellion of 1798, started between two Donovan cousins.  Mr. Richard Donovan, aged 77, personally lead our tour of the museum, adding to our enjoyment of the artifacts by recounting stories and personal anecdotes.

Later we enjoyed delicious tea and homemade scones in the tearoom, prepared and served by Margaret Donovan.

As we left the Donovans a huge black cloud floated over our sunny day and the rain began to pour down.  We put on our rain gear and continued east along our route.  As I looked off to the south I could see blue sky and sunshine, so I proposed that we turn and head south, out of the rain.  This worked out well and we were soon on dry roads again.  We could look back and see that huge, fat black cloud still pouring rain down on that little patch of Ireland.

This was the day of the big hurling match between Wexford (Purple and Gold), and Offaly (red and white).  Everywhere we could see the Wexford team banners, streaming gold and purple, and fans racing their cars here and there to get to their pub of choice for the game.  As we passed through Ballyshane we spied several fans in their team jerseys standing outside of the pub, The Snug.  So, we stopped and asked permission to take their photo.  Explaining that it was just halftime, they all encouraged us to come in for the second half and a pint.

We decided to join them and entered the (smoke-free thank goodness) pub to learn all about hurling.  We watched for about 20 minutes and then decided to get back on the road before the fans left the bars and hit the roads.