Throwback Thursday: Memories of my driving test across city’s bridges

Fintan Bloss has written to correct a small point about those great images of the Bailey Bridge between the North Mall and Bachelor’s Quay which he supplied for last week’s Throwback Thursday. The composite of several images taken by his brother Tony showed not the bridge being put in place in 1957, but actually its removal twenty years after – in 1977.

However, he does claim that the very first person to cross the newly opened Bailey Bridge from the Bachelors Quay side back in 1957 was none other than his mother in law Mary O’Connor, with her new born baby son, Gerald!

And we heard from Tim Cagney on the same topic:

“Reading your reminiscences on the Bailey Bridge brings a memory to my own mind. Did you know that said structure was once part of the route of the motorcycle driving test? Standing at the Bachelors Quay side of the bridge, the tester asked you to drive downriver, turning left at the North Gate Bridge. Having done that, you were required to swing left again and then return to where he was, having crossed the Bailey Bridge. That all made sense - to a degree - in that he could watch your movements. However, he then requested you to drive upriver, and take the first turn left. You would do this twice more, which brought you back to the Bailey, where he was waiting.

“Whilst you were circumnavigating this block of buildings, of course, he couldn’t see you, so had no way of evaluating your skills (good or bad) at being a motorcyclist, except - of course - the fact that you had safely returned to your starting-point. Later, someone told me that he once issued such instructions to one particular ‘testee,’ telling him that - on his return to the Bailey - he (the tester) would step out in front of him, hand held aloft, at which stage the cyclist would be required to brake to a halt. Unfortunately, he confronted the wrong cyclist (one who wasn’t actually being tested at all). The rider, being totally unaware that he was required to stop, promptly ran the tester down. I think this story turned out to be something of an urban myth, but it makes for amusing telling, nonetheless. The occasion of my own motorcycle driving test took place in 1970. I was driving a 1968 Yamaha 80cc, registration no. VPI 655.”

Wonderful, Tim! And you remember the number! Don’t we all recall those special numbers of our very first motorised transport, be it a Honda 50 or a fifth-hand car with several thousand miles on the clock?

By the way, we did think to ask Fintan, since he is the expert on all things North Mall-ish, about the pedestrian bridge which still crosses the river there – the one with the gaily painted red and gold entrance posts. The first footbridge to be built here, he tells us, was a wooden one in 1862. This was replaced by a sturdier metal one in 1878, and that is the one which still stands today, 148 years later. You don’t often think, when crossing a river, of the history under your feet, but in Cork we have so many wonderful bridges, each with their own fascinating story. Would it be possible to do a walk taking in every single one of them? It would be a great way to celebrate our multi-streamed river and our maritime history.

Speaking of which, Captain Michael McCarthy, former commercial director of the Port of Cork, and now ambassador for Cruise Europe, echoed our comments in a recent Throwback Thursday, coming out strongly against the very notion of a fixed bridge for the suggested Luas line across the Lee by Kent railway station. We quote from his interview in a recent issue of The Echo:

Cork can say goodbye to any more city centre maritime festivals if the planned Luas bridge goes ahead.

The city will never again see a naval vessel, cruise liner or tall ship dock on its quaysides, the Cruise Europe ambassador Michael McCarthy told The Echo, adding that it will make the city’s motto ‘A Safe Harbour for Ships’ redundant.

The Cork-based ambassador of the largest cruise port network in northern Europe added that, if a fixed bridge connecting Kent Station to Kennedy Quay is built, no vessels at all will be able to access the quays west of the old Odlums building.

“The bridge will come across from Kent Station and reach Kennedy Quay by the old Odlums building, and nothing will get past that bridge, no yachts, motorboats, ribs, rowing boats, nothing,” he said.

“Our city motto is Statio Bene Fida Carinis, ‘A Safe Harbour for Ships’, but we will never be able to claim that again if this bridge goes ahead, and the shame of it is that there are better options available,” said Mr McCarthy.

Well, we, and indeed anyone who cares for our city and its proud history, are with you there, Michael. And, although observations, submissions, and objections to the plans have now been closed, the topic is very far from done and dusted.

Let’s face it: Cork is special. Dublin (forgive me, any Dubliners reading this) is huge, crowded, and pretty much like any other large urban conglomeration. Cork, in contrast, is small, approachable, friendly, and utterly charming. Those who come to visit fall for its charm instantly and are convinced Corkonians forever more. Having a walkable city with boats on the river, ships unloading at the docks, annual festivals bringing dozens of curraghs and other rowing craft up our waterways, and a motto that states the very centre of our being, with the two castles on our coat of arms, has made us a Mediterranean city with all the delight that such a place provides. Today, more than ever, visitors and tourists are seeking the old world, the places which still keep their heritage alive, locations which still speak of the past. Our little laneways, flights of steps going everywhere, more hills than Rome, and waterways –some half hidden (have you looked from Patrick’s Bridge to see the original river emerging from underneath where Pana now unrolls its length?) or flowing strongly and powerfully as they have done since time out of mind.

Our city grew up around the Lee, first on higher firm ground amid the marshes and channels, then later encroaching on to that marshland and building so many bridges. No wonder Spenser immortalised us in his poetry.

This writer remembers meeting a couple of Dutch visitors in the street one evening some years ago. They had come to see the Cork of which they had heard so much, and had eventually found somewhere to park. But now they couldn’t find where they had left their car! It was near the river, they said confidently. And near a bridge. And there was a brewery or something not far away. Or was it a distillery? We decided to help them out, and drove them around. First along the North Mall by the north branch of the river. Then out the other side, on South Main St, where Beamish’s still stood to the south branch. No, they didn’t recognise either of those. Eventually, late in the evening, we found their car – well beyond Lady’s Well and Murphy’s, in Blackpool, where you can still see some of the little local river Bride before it is covered over and hidden from sight nearer to the city centre. They were very grateful, but commented that they hadn’t realised we had nearly as many waterways as they had in Amsterdam!

The point of that digression is that we have something very special in Cork, and it behoves us to protect and encourage it.

You may recall Micheal Kenefick’s memories of old-time Whitegate, which featured on Throwback Thursday a few weeks back.

He recalled a time when you could buy everything right there in the village itself, from people who knew you and knew your family, who were always there for every emergency. His recollections have proved very popular both with followers of Throwback Thursday and indeed the residents of his own village who have delighted in reading about their own streets, lanes, and shops of yesteryear.

Now Micheal has sent us this very moving note, which we publish with his permission:

“We just buried a childhood friend from the bottom of the Boreen. He told Noreen he would read the story of the village in Throwback Thursday when he got home from hospital. Sadly he never got the chance so she put The Echo in the coffin with him.”

Micheal, what can we say to that but thank you for sharing? It is a tribute to the strength of feeling in Whitegate, and also a true compliment to The Echo. We believe and trust that your old friend is reading snippets from De Paper even now to St Peter and all the angels who are making an excuse to stop by and listen in.

Speaking of happy yesteryears, we have heard again from Helen McCormack, nee Coughlan, who wrote so delightfully of the Christmas she got a doll’s pram from Kilgrews, and insisted on wheeling it all the way home to Horgan’s Buildings at the age of four. She has sent us pictures of that very pram, a bit battered now, but still standing up proudly and more than capable of taking a doll or two.

Do you have a treasured toy of childhood, still kept because you can’t bear to throw it away, and it once meant so much to your younger self? A Meccano set? A tricycle? That first teddy bear? Bet you do.

Tell us about it! Email jokerrigan1@gmail.com or leave a message on our Facebook page: www.facebook.com/echolivecork.