Patricia Doyle fondly recalls her time and the fun they had in the Gaeltacht in An Mhuiríoch in west Kerry back in 1967.
The summer of ’67 was unforgettable. Johnny McEvoy was topping the charts with ‘The Boston Burglar’. The lads in the Capitol Showband were warning everyone to avoid the hussy with the diamond-like eyes in ‘The Black Velvet Band’. Meanwhile Long John Baldry was letting the heartaches begin. And we, a group of trainee Primary School teachers, usually referred to as ‘abar múinteoiri’ in our Alma Mater, were in An Mhuiríoch (Murreagh) in the Corca Dhuibhne Gaeltacht, on a four week stint to improve out Gaeilge.
Remaining for four weeks was compulsory, but we were not required to attend formal classes, if we so wished. The aim was to immerse ourselves in the ambience, culture, language and everything to do with cúrsaí an lae, the day-to-day events of the area.
The house we stayed in was packed to the gills, and the majority of boarders were student teachers. Five of us shared a room on the ground floor at the back of the house. This only added to the craic, as the gable window was often used as an emergency entrance when the front door was locked for the night.
This involved climbing over the top bunk, just inside the window, which was very hard on the misfortunate occupant. She was a glutton for punishment as the stragglers from Johnny Frank’s in Baille na nGall (Ballydavid) plotted a course from said window through the room, before facing the challenge of the stairs in stockinged feet.
No doubt the long-suffering bean a’tí must have heard their muffled giggles every now and then. She was a grand woman and cared for us body and soul, as any mother would.
Day followed day of glorious sunshine, for the first three weeks, in surroundings rivalling anywhere in the world for beauty. Some students hired bicycles to explore further afield, but most were content to remain in the immediate locality, and experience at first hand its rich archaeological heritage.
Continue reading in this week’s Ireland’s Own
