And well kick the auld enemy outa the way.
This is the start of an old chant that my father used to sing when gay meant something else that in does today.
It was used to summon up the spirit for the feast day of our national Saint.
Back in those days the only notice taken of Saint Patrick’s Day (never ever St Paddy’s) was the wearing of the shamrock and it had to be real shamrock, plus the fact that it was a national holiday. There wasn’t much parading then, except In the Capital Dublin. Gradually though, the marching custom crept in and in our town, Galway, The local military would turn out, all spit and polish and march to the Army band. Gradually this spread a bit to include the local boy scouts, the local Red Cross, Knights of Malta, later the local schools joined in and various trade guilds, until now the whole town almost joins in complete with American school marching bands from all over the place and everybody joins in the craic some even wear silly green hats and drink green beer.
Of course all of this has come from America, where the marching tradition is strong, especially in New York where Irish policemen and firemen once ruled the roost
Over here at the moment, the festival season is about to awaken with the first festival of the season The Grá festival, or the festival of love. Don’t ask me what sort of a festival it is because I don’t know, but I’m all for it. Hot on the heels of that festival comes Cúirt; the long-standing and much loved festival of literature which really kicks the season off in a big way, with poets and other authors reading their stuff in all sorts of venues, from the local pub to the TownHall and everywhere in between.
Since my stroke a couple of years ago, I don’t get out as much as I used to and I only go to town once a week, so I won’t be in the thick of it all, but of course will pick up the atmosphere when I do go, Outside Tigh Neachtain, my favourite pub, they have giant pencils, about six feet tall, to represent writers, and every pub, especially that one will have more poets and writers to the square inch than you’d find anywhere in the world so I’m bound to rub off some of them even on my one visit a week.
The first signs f spring are here with the f daffodils and the crocuses in full bloom already and the Galway Hooker (boats) Society are launching for the summer. This wonderful society has sprung up around the Claddagh in Galway to rescue and reinstate many of the old Claddagh hookers, many of them well over a hundred years old and some even dating back to the nineteenth century. Not only that, but they also teach young people to sail them and they have series of races, or sailing regattas in various ports in the bay, culminating in Cruinniú na mBád in August in Kinvara. These races are hotly contested by young and old sailors and are a joy to watch.
There are signs too of the rowing clubs getting active on the river Corrib for the regatta season around the country. This is another sport that has become very popular in recent years since we won a few god medals in the Olympics. Mind you, it has been going on for over a hundred and fifty years or more in the city, I was even an old oarsman myself in the fifties. But it does gladden my old heart to see these boats skimming through the waters of the Corrib now the Spring is here .
Well that’s about it from me for now I hope ye enjoyed my little trawl through eh Soring goings on in my hometown Galway on the bay,