John Arnold: Talking GAA and Seán Ó Sé in the Canaries

Last Sunday after Mass, a verse of a famous song came to my mind:

We would talk about the neighbours, the weather and the times,

And who the boys were courting on the sly.

We would watch the colleens passing down, and bid them the time of day.

And perhaps we’d catch a twinkle in their eyes

They are lines from The Chapel Gates In Cooraclare.

Well, we had no chapel gates to talk near on Sunday but the little church was packed to the rafters for 11am Mass.

Now, the church in Lanzarote is tiny – maybe a capacity of around 150 - but all the extra seats brought in were occupied. I don’t think for a minute that it was a manifestation of religious zeal by the local community. Just so many Irish there – the swell of the communal singing of A Mhuire Mhathair and Hail Queen of Heaven was heart-stirring.

After Mass, ’twas like outside any Irish rural church in the past as ‘we talked about football (and hurling too) ’til the final whistle blew, around the chapel gates in Lanzarote’.

We spent a week, Tuesday until Tuesday, in the island resort. We’d been there before, usually earlier in the month of January; not being sun- worshippers, it’s just for the break, the light, warmer days and a change of scenery.

It was different this year. Having had two family bereavements in the last week of the Old Year, this New Year wasn’t a time of huge celebration and party-going. The thought of cancelling the holiday crossed our minds but then we said that wouldn’t change anything in any way.

A death in the family is heartbreaking, no matter if it’s ‘expected’ after a long illness or old age, or suddenly, like a thief in the night.

I do a lot of genealogical research - I love helping build up ‘family trees’. Whether it’s like a pyramid or a series of steps, the links of the family chain are so important. Death breaks a link forever.

We like Lanzarote in January - in fairness, we’ve never been there any other time of the year. They don’t ‘guarantee’ sunshine all the year round, but the statistics show that the island has, on average, more sunny days than most other places in the world. Damn statistics!

We were there, as I said, for seven days and had more rain in Lanzarote than at home in Cork!

We had three completely dry days, two deluge days, and three wet and dry days!

Look, it didn’t bother us too much because, rain or shine, there was plenty to do and see.

Locals told us the place wasn’t so green with 30 years because of all the rain they’ve had since early November - climate change is everywhere.

Lads, when it rains there, it rains! On Monday, we were relaxing in a café on ‘the Strip’ with beautiful blue skies. Then, like you’d turn out the light, black clouds appeared from nowhere in a matter of minutes. Talk about raining cats, dogs, cows, and goats, and any other species you could name - for a solid 40 minutes, leaving floods and torrents gushing everywhere - and then it stopped!

In January, the tourists in Lanzarote, like us, are of a more mature vintage who like a nice, easy break that’s not tiring or hectic or crowded like most sunspots are in high summer.

Before departure, we knew of several friends and acquaintances also en route to the same island. On arrival, ’twas like walking down a street in Fermoy or Cork or Midleton - you’d always meet someone you knew. On the dry days, the livin’ was easy, no rush, plenty chat, and sure, ‘we might see ye again tonight or tomorrow’.

Our hotel had every modern convenience you could think of - and several we never heard of too!

As per normal with me on a breakaway holiday, my greatest thrill is reading. You might say, “Sure, you could read a book at home anytime, day or night?” Too true alright, but the sheer freedom of being able to read a book from start to finish in a day or two - at the most - well, nothing compares with that.

I was tired and weary this year so didn’t have that many ‘early starts’ -only three mornings was I reading before 8am!

You know the way you’d buy or get a book and maybe have some pre-conceived notion on the contents? Oft times you’d be spot on, and more times it might be a huge disappointment – pot luck, as they say.

I only took seven books with me this year - and the Holly Bough - and I finished five in total. Pure pleasure for me is to be able to read for three or four hours, have a break for lunch or whatever, and then come back to it.

Even at home, I don’t watch much television, so away I just had an odd look at the news headlines on BBC or CNN. Merciful heavens, I thought, we’re lucky to be living in Ireland and I’m glad it’s not near the Arctic or Antarctic or we’d be ‘trumped’ long ago - truly the world is in a state of chassis at present.

Donie O Brien, from Tallow, last year wrote a book about one Thomas Badnedge, who arrived in west Waterford in 1620 as an indentured servant for Sir Richard Boyle, the First Earl of Cork. Before I read the book, I always thought an ‘indentured’ person was one with no teeth but quickly found out otherwise

Badnedge rose in the ranks and became a loyal and trusted confidante of Boyle. His descendants lived on around Tallow, and the name became Barnidge over the centuries - I remember Barnidge’s Public House on the road from Tallow to Youghal.

Reading the book, I recalled Katherine Fitzgerald, Countess of Desmond. She was born in 1504 and was dead just before Badnedge arrived in Tallow.

It was said Katherine had worn out three sets of false teeth before she died after a fall from a cherry tree, aged about 104 - she was well indentured!

On the sunshiny days in Lanzarote, I read by the pool at the hotel looking out on the glistening sea. I noticed that men and women soaking up the sun in their little skimpy bathing attire - all, well nearly all, had one thing in common. They all clutched their mobile, or so-called ‘smart’ phones in their hands. Talk about addiction, lads!

They weren’t texting or making phone calls, yet practically every few minute they just had to scroll or check their devices. Even in cafes or restaurants in the evening, the phone seemingly could not be left in the pocket or handbag.

Of course, the mobile phone is up there with the very best inventions, but for so many people nowadays it has become totally addictive. The other side of the technology coin then.

In Lanzarote on Sunday evening, I got talking to an 80-year-old man. He was after watching the GAA club finals on TG4 - delighted he was.

He told me in 1946, back in his home in Kerry, crowds would gather on summer and September Sundays to listen to Michael O’Hehir on the wet and dry battery wireless. Ah yes, in some ways we’ve come a long way but...

Many remember where they were when JFK was shot and we were in Lanzarote when my ‘giolla mear’ Seán Ó Sé died.

A few nights over, we went to Irish music sessions in different ‘Irish’ bars and in his memory I sang An Poc Ar Buile.

When the copper mines ran out in Allihies in West Cork, many of the miners and their families went to Butte in Montana. A cousin of mine, Ciara Ryan, taught Irish to their descendants over there. I read her book on Henry Sieben in Lanzarote last week also. Like Badnedge, Sieben was a ‘settler’ - Germany to Montana, where he amassed a fortune.

I read a lot, talked, and sang a lot and had a great ‘week off’. 

In the words of singer, Sean Keane;

Back across the ocean to my home away from home

I’m glad to be returning but sad to have to go

I’d like to find a way to be two places at one time

It’s easy going back again but it’s hard to say goodbye.