Showing posts with label County Mayo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label County Mayo. Show all posts

Saturday 27 August 2011

THE MOVIE THAT PUT IRELAND ON THE TOURIST MAP


My favourite line from my all-time favourite movie is: “He’ll regret it till his dying day, if ever he lives that long.” Fans of The Quiet Man will immediately recognise it as having been uttered by fierce-tempered farmer ‘Red’ Will Danaher, played to blustering perfection by Victor McLaglen.
Danaher is the bullying big brother of beautiful redhead Mary Kate (Maureen O’Hara) who steals the heart of retired boxer Sean ‘Trooper Thorn’ Thornton (John Wayne) who’d killed an opponent in the ring in the States. Despite Danaher’s best spoiling efforts and aided and abetted by the colourful and conniving villagers of fictional Inisfree in the west of Ireland, Sean, who was born there but grew up in Pittsburgh, woos and weds Mary Kate and then has an epic fistfight with his new brother-in-law.
Based on the 1933 short story Green Rushes by County Kerry novelist Maurice Walsh, The Quiet Man was director John Ford’s pet project and his cinematic love letter to his parents’ homeland. “It will never make a penny,” was one snooty studio reader’s opinion of Frank S Nugent’s 179-page screenplay. I hope he enjoyed eating his hat. The film cost $1.75 million to make, took in $3.8 million in its first year and has earned umpteen times that in video and DVD sales and rentals.
Shot in the summer of 1951 mainly in and around Cong, County Mayo, and released the following year, it sparked a phenomenal influx of tourists eager to see the sights so gorgeously portrayed by cinematographers Winton C Hoch and Archie Stout. Their work earned them Academy Awards (Ford, whose real name was Sean Aloysius Feeney, got the Best Director Oscar) and put the town and county on the map.

REV'S RES: The Reverend and Mrs. Playfair's house
Today, the coachloads of Quiet Man pilgrims who descend on Cong year-round are thrilled to find not much has changed since the cast and crew packed up and headed home. Most of the buildings featured in the film, such as the Reverend Playfair’s ivy-covered house, are still there, and you’ll see fans, many of them moist-eyed Irish-Americans, wandering around doing more pointing than a bricklayer.
The house first appears when courting couple Sean and Mary Kate are out walking under the watchful eye of pipe-puffing mischief-maker, matchmaker and bookmaker Michaleen Og Flynn, who’s following in his horse-drawn trap. Fed up with the rigid formality, Sean spots a tandem bicycle propped against a window, tells Mary Kate to jump on and they go racing off down the street. The house is also seen near the end of the film when the Rev Playfair (Arthur Shields) collects his £15 winnings from his boss, the Anglican Bishop (Philip Stainton), who’d foolishly backed Danaher to win the fight.
Playfair, a former amateur pugilist with a big collection of scrapbooks full of boxing articles and pictures, is the only person in the village who knows about Trooper Thorn killing his opponent, but the tragic secret is safe with him.
Look! There’s Pat Cohan’s pub, where Michaleen’s horse, Napoleon, comes to an automatic abrupt halt, nearly catapulting him out of his seat and prompting the line: “I think ye have more sense than meself!”

PAT'LL DO NICELY: The most famous pub in Ireland
Michaleen was played by rubber-faced pixie Barry Fitzgerald, real name William Joseph Shields (brother of Arthur), who won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his role as Father Fitzgibbon in the 1944 tear-jerker Going My Way. However, his ‘gold’ statuette came to a sticky end. While practising his golf swing he knocked the head off it (during World War Two they were made of plaster because of metal shortages) and had to glue it back on.
Cohan’s is where Sean and Danaher take a break from their fistfight, which resumes when the latter comes crashing backwards through the closed front door after throwing a pint of porter in the Yank’s face, for which he gets a piledriver of a punch in his own. The pub was actually a dressed-up grocer’s shop and the interiors were shot in Hollywood, so the punch that was thrown in California puts Danaher on his backside 5,000 miles away in the street in Cong. Cohan’s opened as a fully-licensed bar in 2008.
Nearby is the house where dying man Dan Tobin makes a miraculous recovery, springing from his bed while being read the last rites when he hears the crowd outside running to see the big fight. Hopping down the street pulling his trousers on over his long nightshirt, it’s the biggest comeback since Lazarus. White-bearded Tobin was played by Francis Ford, the director’s brother, and the young priest praying by his bedside, Fr Paul, was Maureen O’Hara’s brother, James.

DAN DOMAIN: 'Dying' man Dan Tobin's cottage
Ashford Castle, on the near outskirts of Cong, is one of Ireland’s poshest, most palatial and magnificent hotels, and for the several weeks of filming it was home to Ford, Wayne and O’Hara. It was also home last weekend to me and my pal John Morrison, another lifelong Quiet Man fan, when we made a pilgrimage we’ve been promising ourselves for years. This was our base while we toured Cong and the surrounding countryside, visiting the places seen in the movie.
The castle dates from 1228 when the Anglo-Norman de Burgo clan who’d recently kicked the backsides of the native O’Connors decided they liked it there and put down roots. Three-and-a-half centuries later, in 1589, the de Burgos got a taste of their own medicine when English nobleman Lord Bingham and his boys decided they liked it, too, and sent them packing. In 1715 the Oranmore-Browne family took over, and in 1852 Sir Benjamin Lee Guinness of the brewing dynasty moved in, extending the estate to 26,000 acres and adding two Victorian-style extensions either side of the French-style chateau. In 1939 the castle became a luxury hotel, and in 1970 a large part of the grounds were given over to a golf course.

WHERE STARS STAYED: Stately Ashford Castle hotel
The management are to be applauded for finding and recruiting the most professional, courteous and attentive staff I’ve ever encountered anywhere. As is the case with any successful business, the people customers deal with are the most valuable asset, and Ashford has hired the best of the best.
Several scenes in the film were shot on the castle estate, including that in which fly-fishing parish priest Father Peter Lonergan (Ward Bond) almost hooks the monster salmon he’s been after for years (out of shot, local man Jim Morrin was in the river tugging on the line). If only Mary Kate hadn’t come along moaning about her new husband bunking down in a sleeping bag – “with buttons!” – Fr Lonergan might have landed it. Bond, an epileptic who was rejected by the draft during WW2, was a close friend of Wayne and bequeathed to him the borrowed shotgun with which his buddy had once accidentally shot him.
Danaher’s house, looking much as it did except for the addition of a front door porch and garage door, is on the estate, too. This is where Sean comes calling with flowers in hand and Michaleen in tow to seek the irascible squire’s permission to court his sister, only to be sent off with a flea in his ear as a tearful Mary Kate looks forlornly from the left hand upstairs window. The third fairway of the castle golf course, which didn’t exist in 1951, is where Sean first spots the barefooted Mary Kate herding sheep with a black and white collie (Jacko, owned by local shepherd John Murphy).

MUCH THE SAME: Will and Mary Kate Danaher's house
This area is also seen in the run-up to the big fight when Sean, who’s had enough of Mary Kate’s bickering over her unpaid dowry, drags her along the ground by the collar, followed by the crowd. In a continuation of this scene but in a different location close to the Danaher house known as the Meadow Field, Sean dumps his wife at the feet of her brother who’s harvesting the hay with his workers and says: “You can take your sister back. It’s your custom, not mine. No fortune, no marriage. We call it quits.”
St. Mary’s Protestant church, whose exterior was used in the “patty fingers” scene where Sean is told off by Michaleen for scooping holy water from the font for Mary Kate to bless herself, is on the road out of the estate into Cong. But sadly, wealthy widow Sarah Tillane’s (Mildred Natwick) house, where Sean seals the deal to buy White O’ Mornin’, the cottage in which he and seven generations of his family were born, no longer exists, having been demolished years ago to make way for a car park for visitors to the estate. Saddest of all, the long-neglected White O’ Mornin’, by the Failmore River 13 miles west of Cong, has been reduced to a barely recognisable pile of rubble. It’s a crying shame.
Ten miles southwest of Cong between Maam Cross and Oughterard is Leam Bridge, also known as the Quiet Man Bridge and unchanged in 60 years. This is where Sean sits and views White O’ Mornin’ while his late mother’s voice reminisces: “Don’t you remember, Seanie, and how it was? The road led up past the chapel and it wound and wound. And there was the field where Dan Tobin’s bull chased you. It was a lovely little house, Seaneen. And the roses! Well, your father used to tease me about them, but he was that proud of them, too.” It would bring a tear to a glass eye.

SPANTASTIC: Leam Bridge, aka The Quiet Man Bridge
Drive 22 miles southeast of Cong and you’ll come to the now disused but still accessible Ballyglunin railway station which in the film was called Castletown. It’s here that Sean gets off the green steam train at the start and is immediately surrounded by curious rail staff and villagers as narrator Fr. Lonergan clears his throat and sets the scene in voiceover, saying: “Now then, I’ll begin at the beginnin’. A fine soft day in the spring it was when the train pulled into Castletown, three hours late as usual, and himself got off. He didn’t have the look of an American tourist at all about him. Not a camera on him. And what was worse, not even a fishing rod.”
After asking directions to Inisfree and being sent off in all directions, first by the conductor (“Do you see that road over there? Don’t take that one, it’ll do you no good”) and then by a fishwife (“My sister’s third young one is living at Inisfree, and she’d be only too happy to show you the road — if she was here”), Michaleen appears, lifts Sean’s case and says: “Inisfree? This way.” And so they set off from the station in Michaleen’s trap and the adventure begins, to the comedic melody of “The Rakes Of Mallow”.

WHERE IT BEGINS: Disused Ballyglunin railway station
If you want to see Lettergesh Beach, where the Inisfree horse race meeting was filmed, drive 25 miles west of Cong to Renvyle, where the best view is from in front of Lettergesh post office. It’s during the races that Michaleen and Fr. Lonergan launch their plot, on which the movie hangs, to persuade Danaher to let Sean court Mary Kate.
The Quiet Man isn’t everyone’s cup of tea — or in Michaleen’s case, glass of whiskey. There are those who dismiss it as a mawkish dip into an over-romanticised world of shenanigans and blarney that never existed except in John Ford’s mind, but stroll through Cong on any day of the week and you’ll see there are many more devotees than detractors, all walking around with movie locations maps in their hands and a smiles on their faces.
Yesterday, the biggest smile in Cong was worn by Maureen O’Hara herself as the 91-year-old screen legend joined thousands of fans celebrating the film’s 60th anniversary. Fittingly, by her side were John Wayne’s daughter Marisa and his granddaughter Laura Monoz Bottini, and watching from the sidelines was 78-year-old local man John Joe Mullin, who in 1951 worked in Ashford Castle and served Ms O’Hara her breakfast every morning in the same room she slept in last night. “It was a lovely job and she was a lovely lady,” said an emotional John Joe. “Very, very gracious in her manners.”
Six decades after the cameras stopped rolling, the film clearly occupies a special place in the hearts of the people of Cong because, like Trooper Thorn, and the scenery so spectacularly portrayed in Ford’s fond salute to Ireland, The Quiet Man still packs a punch.

TAKE THAT: Sean lands a right hook to Danaher's chin
I’ll leave you with an anecdote I was told in Pat Cohan’s pub. On a day off from filming, John Wayne travelled to Croke Park in Dublin with a member of the crew to see the fiercely-fought All Ireland hurling semi-final between Wexford and Galway. At half-time, the crewman said to him: “Youre a big athletic man, I bet you’d love to be down there with a hurley in your hand.” Wayne took a drag from his cigarette and drawled: “Well, I sure as hell wouldnt like to be down there without one.”

QUOTABLE QUOTES
1. Fr. Lonergan:Now then, here comes myself. Thats me there, walking. That tall, saintly-looking man. Peter Lonergan, parish priest.
2. Fr. Lonergan: Ah, yes. I knew your people, Sean. Your grandfather, he died in Australia, in a penal colony. And your father, he was a good man, too.
3. Fr. Lonergan (to villagers): Now, when the Reverend Mr Playfair, good man that he is, comes down, I want us all to cheer like Protestants.
4. Fishwife (to Sean): Sir! Sir! Heres a good stick, to beat the lovely lady.
5. Danaher (to Sean): “Yer widow, me sister, she coulda done a lot worse.”
6. Michaleen (to Mary Kate): Is this a courting or a donnybrook? Have the good manners not to hit the man until hes your husband and entitled to hit you back.
7. Mary Kate: “Would you be stepping into the parlour? The house may belong to my brother, but what’s in the parlour belongs to me.” Michaleen: “I will then, and I hope there’s a bottle there, whoever it belongs to.”
8. Mary Kate:Could you use a little water in your whiskey?Michaleen:When I drink whiskey, I drink whiskey, and when I drink water, I drink water.
9. Feeney (Jack MacGowran, to Mary Kate):I saw him today, as I passed by the chapel, a tall handsome man.Mary Kate:If you passed the pub as quickly as you passed the chapel, you’d be better off, you little squint!
10. Feeney (to Mary Kate): “Is that a bed or a parade ground? A man would have to be a sprinter to catch his wife in a bed that big.
˜ See www.ashford.ie and www.discoverireland.ie
˜ Author Des MacHale’s meticulously-researched books are a must-read for all fans of The Quiet Man. See the amazon website, where you can also buy the DVD, and Booker Prize winner Roddy Doyle’s novel, The Dead Republic, about a fictional IRA veteran hired by Ford as an advisor on the movie.

Friday 19 August 2011

IRELAND: OH MAYO MY!




THERE’S nothing like the excitement of going at full gallop across a windswept beach in the west of Ireland at low tide with your horse’s hooves churning up the waters of the wild Atlantic as they rush ashore. And that picture above of me on docile old Blaze in Clew Bay, County Mayo, is nothing like the excitement described.
Falling off a horse is easy. The hard bit, I find, is staying on. Anything faster than a trot and we tend to part company. It’s a case of what goes giddy-up must come giddy-down, usually with a backside-bruising bump.
Fortunately, Blaze harbours no ambitions to win the Grand National, so I stayed in the saddle instead of ending up in the sea. That’s what makes her the ideal mount for youngsters and getting-oldsters like me who sign up for a memorable day out with GoTrekking! at the Westport Woods Hotel.
Pony and horse trekking on the beaches of Clew Bay, below, or in the woods and foothills of nearby Croagh Patrick, the sacred mountain so beloved of barefooted pilgrims and blister pad producers, is a thrill, but stick a snorkel down your boot just in case.


Westport, a worthy three-times winner of the national Tidy Towns competition, is home to Matt Molloy’s pub, Ireland’s busiest and best traditional music venue which is rocked to the rafters seven nights a week by foot-stamping tourists and locals having a great time. One of these evenings the floorboards will give way.
When he’s not off travelling the world, Matt, the flute player with trad legends The Chieftains, picks up his instrument and joins in the fun. Whatever your views on diddly-dee music, there’s nothing more diddly-deelightful than a top-class trad session in a packed Irish pub, especially when it’s Molloy’s, which is on just about every coach tour itinerary.
Westport is a relatively small place, but it punches well above its weight in selling itself as a tourist destination, in large part thanks to the tireless efforts of people such as Westport Woods boss Michael Lennon, musician-publican Matt and other local business leaders.
They have a quality product to promote, and their job is made so much easier by the admirable civic pride of the townspeople who keep the place picture postcard perfect. Litter on the streets is unknown, and the council spends more money on flowers than Elton John, which makes for colourful holiday snaps, below. A visit to Westport is not to be sneezed at. Unless you suffer from hay fever.


I was sneezing after cycling the 18km stretch of the traffic-free Great Western Greenway between the Mulranny Park Hotel and Newport, but it was nothing to do with the air being full of pollen. Rather, the ditch I rode into after being confronted by two fierce-looking wild mountain goats was full of icy water.
My previous run-in with pointy-horned beasts was 20-odd years ago in Pamplona, where my record for shinning up a drainpipe still stands. It was a memorable trip, on a rickety old bus full of Vietnam veterans and aged hippies who’d retired to Torremolinos and spent their time drinking cheap brandy and smoking free black tobacco cigarettes in Marco’s Mini Bar.
While I survived dangling from a balcony as several tons of ill-humoured fighting bulls thundered past just a couple of feet below, one of the hippies failed to survive the 500-mile journey back to the Costa del Sol. We all thought he’d fallen into a cannabis-induced coma, but he was dead, having suffered a heart attack somewhere along the way. Maybe it’s just as well he didn’t wake up — he’d have been really annoyed about having his face slapped so many times and a litre bottle of fizzy water poured over his head, God forgive us.
The bicycle I dipped in the ditch was supplied by Canadian nice guy Travis Zeray of Clew Bay Bike Hire & Outdoor Adventures, who laughed when I told him about my encounter with the goats. Seemingly, they were more afraid of me than I was of them, but I’d like to see him lying in three feet of freezing water with a pedal sticking in his ribs, expecting at any second to be skewered.


Scary moments aside, and despite being soaked to the skin, riding the Greenway through some of the most spectacular scenery, above, in Ireland with the help of a gale at my back — master of the understatement Travis said it was a gentle tailwind — was a joy. Imagine what it must be like on a warm, sunny summer’s day.
Such a day found me pitting my wits — and some unfortunate big fat worms — against the salmon that have for decades made Mayo’s River Moy a magnet for anglers from all over the world. Although the Ridge Pool in the middle of Ballina is recognised as the hottest spot from which to pull the biggest fish, those that put up the biggest fight are found in the private two-mile stretch of the Moy that runs through the Maloney family’s Mount Falcon Estate just outside town.
This is where famed fashion designer and avid angler John Rocha comes to enjoy a bit of r&r (in his case rod & reel), although I had more luck with my worms, float and Jumping Jack weight at Cunningham’s Pool than he had when I later saw him casting his fly a mile upriver.
Ghillie Robert Gillespie is a master of the art of fly fishing and knows the Moy like the back of his hand. Robert, widely regarded as the best in the business and therefore in big demand, and Mount Falcon boss Shane Maloney were my companions for the day, and I couldn’t have wished for better company. I don’t know which of us was more excited when I hooked my first ever salmon.
I do know that my barman buddy Garrett’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when I walked into Neary’s when I returned to Dublin and presented him with the whopper pictured below. Garrett’s passion is cooking, and that salmon provided him with a week’s worth of delicious meals. Fish is supposed to be good for the brain, but not for Garrett’s, because he forgot to bring me some. Mind you, he did say it was delicious.


One man who forgets nothing is archaeologist, historian and walking encyclopaedia Jim Henry of Setanta Ireland Tours, who collected me at the Downhill Hotel in Ballina for a tour of north County Mayo. During our day out I learned more about this beautiful part of Ireland than I would have from reading a dozen books.
The cold case cops should give Jim a call because he knows where all the bodies are buried, especially those of the ancient Sweeneys who once ruled the roost in Mayo. Every time we drove past a graveyard he took great delight in telling me it was full of my late clansmen and women. As for Achill Island, which we viewed from Blacksod Point, it should have sunk under the waves years ago with the weight of all the Sweeneys buried there.
The coastguard station at Blacksod, below, played a significant role in the timing of the D-Day landings in 1944. On June 4, meteorologist Ted Sweeney filed a weather report warning of bad conditions which delayed the Allied invasion of France scheduled for the next day. A break came in the weather on June 6, and Operation Overlord proceeded, so hastening the end of World War Two.


But the highlight of our tour for me was a stop at Mayo’s 6,000-year-old Ceidhe Fields, where you can walk among what remains of the Neolithic dwellings, tombs and dry stone walls that marked out the enclosed farmland. It’s the most extensive Stone Age monument in the world, excavated from the bogland that grows at a rate of one centimetre every 10 years — a bit like what’s left of my hair. Mercifully, Jim made no mention of the 6,000-year-old Sweeneys buried under all that peat.
The glass-topped, pyramid-shaped visitors centre 8kms northwest of Ballycastle is a must-see and has as its centrepiece a 4,300-year-old Scots pine tree, below, which was dug from the bog and is now preserved for all time. A platform on the roof of the clifftop, award-winning centre provides the most awesome panoramic views of the fields and the surrounding countryside, which can be a problem for the staff because as closing time nears visitors are reluctant to leave.
After 10 hours of driving around with Jim I was reluctant to retire for the evening, but he had to be up early next morning to regale a busload of American tourists with more fascinating tales of the flora, fauna, folklore, history — and graveyards — of north County Mayo. They were in for a treat.


For accommodation deals see www.westportwoodshotel.com, www.mulrannyparkhotel.ie, www.mountfalcon.com and www.downhillhotel.ie. See also www.slainteirelandtours.ie and www.clewbayoutdoors.ie