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When we crossed the
bridge into Listowel, we turned right into a riverside park for
a late picnic lunch, and then lay there in the sun.
Then a volunteer (someone had to do it), cycled about the town
looking for a B&B. Mrs O'Keefe had said it would be difficult,
and so it was. We all met up in the town square to consider our
options. I recollected seeing a B&B on the N69 a mile or two
outside the town. Reluctantly we set off to try that, when we passed
the sign for Gurtenard House, and there we stayed (Eu. 30). |
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We were actually
in an annexe, and it was just a bit on the ramshackle side, but
it was a short walk from the town square, and quiet, so it was grand. |
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An old local enjoys
his pint. |
Listowel was gearing
up for its Writers' Festival the following week. There were displays
of books in many of the shop windows - even the butcher's.
During our trip we saw very few cyclists. There was the occasional
local going to or from the nearest shop, and three men on road bikes
in Tarbert, but we only saw two other tourers, and they were shopping
in the main square in Listowel. Drivers were unused to cyclists.
While not actually aggressive, they made few allowances, and were
prepared to speed past leaving little wobble-room. |
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The spire in the
town square. |
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The point of an
old castle is that it is old. Listowel Castle has been so restored
that it could have been put up yesterday. |
In the morning we
had breakfast at a grand mahogany table in the large, 14-foot-high
dining room of Gurtenard House. The house, with its mahogany table,
is for sale. |
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The River Feale
in Listowel. |
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Listowel is as full of colour as
most Irish towns. |
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Outside one of the
many bars. |
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River, spires, and
castle. |
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Listowel Racecourse. |
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