And there was a man
sticking pictures of Dana up on all the lampposts. So we went into
a shop and bought all kinds of everything for our picnic ...
which we ate in the little park down near the marina, beside relics
of Kilrush's maritime past. Although it is on a tidal creek, it
was a busy port in the nineteenth century. Now Kilrush creek has
an embankment with lock gates to provide a constant level of water
in the marina.
Two of us decided to break the habit of the holiday and stop here
for a pint. The others set more store by getting the cycling for
the day behind them and set off for Kilkee. The pint was enjoyed
in the S.S. Turk. No, I didn't ask,nor was there anything about
the vessel in the bar, and a subsequent search on the internet has
not yielded an explanation of its name.
The West Clare Railway (page 20) was
three miles away on the road to Kilkee. Both pairs of cyclists broke
the journey there and compared photos later. This is tourism as
a competitive sport: 'Did you not see the ---? You shouldn't have
missed that!' Bring back the 'I Spy' books.
From Moyasta Junction the road to Kilkee is quite deceptive. It
seems to go up all the way, and you would expect have a great downhill
run at the end ...
but there was just the merest little descent. Marie wonders what
keeps the sea from rushing over Kilkee and flooding down to Kilrush,
going 'whee!'
Our point of arrival was the mid-point of the curve of the bay,
beside the two winkle stalls. Had we slipped through a fold in the
space-time continuum and arrived in Southend-on-Sea? |