Cork city dance led to a 53-year marriage

Did you see that episode of Reeling In The Years on 1964 on RTÉ recently?

They were interviewing a local man in Ballybunion who was amused at the way tourism had grown there over the previous decade. “First we had roomers, then we had guests. Now we have holiday residents. It’s all go!” he said.

What would he say about the holiday world in Ireland today, we wonder?

Back in the 1950s and ’60s, things were very different. If you went on holiday at all, you certainly didn’t expect en suite bathrooms, wall to wall wifi, coffee-making facilities at your bedside, and at least eight if not 12 channel TV with remote control. Not a bit of it!

“When we stayed down in Youghal back in the early 1950s,” recalls Katie O’Brien, “my mother brought food supplies with her. I was very small, but I can her going down to the huge old kitchen in the basement of the tall boarding house overlooking the bay, with a bag of Odlums oatmeal.

I suppose it was less expensive that way, or perhaps the boarding house didn’t run to serving meals.

Cork author Alice Taylor’s memories of summer holidays, immortalised in her classic To School Through The Fields, concur with Katie’s memory:

“When we arrived in Ballybunion, we checked around the guesthouses we usually stayed in, and there were sure to be vacancies in one. Some were ordinary guesthouses, but others worked an arrangement whereby you brought your own food and they cooked it for you. As they usually had a couple of families staying at the same time, I’m not sure how they sorted it all out.

“At that time, there were no wash-hand basins with running water in the bedrooms; instead we had large jugs of water with basins underneath for washing and enamel buckets to hold the used water.

“One morning, this particular family were about to bring their bucket of dirty water down the stairs when they started a fight on the top step. 

The bucket was turned upside down and rolled down, spilling water in all directions; that gave their mother something to shout about!

Like Stephen Twohig, who wrote of his Ballybunion memories a week or so ago, Alice has fond memories of the covetable treats you could buy.

“The most important job was to make our way to the ‘Tricky Tracky’ shop for buckets and spades. ‘Tricky Tracky’ was a marvellous place, full of seaside paraphernalia and it always had a small, brightly-coloured merry-go-round twirling in the breeze on the low wall in front of the shop.”

As with so many other healthy outdoor children in those bygone years, Alice’s family stayed out all day, never going back to their lodgings until dark.

“For the entire two weeks we never wore shoes except when going to church,” she recalled.

If they were very good, and promised to behave themselves, they were taken to the fairground for a ride on the bumpers, although since these were expensive, it didn’t happen too often.

Alice was truly fortunate too in being there at a time when the old travelling theatre companies were based in the resort for the summer, with a different play every night.

“The play that made the biggest impression on me was Rebecca. How I suffered with the young wife and resented the black-garbed threatening housekeeper! However, the one who really got to me was the leading man, who stole my heart away…”

You remind this writer, Alice, of her own young days enjoying the annual visit of the Carl Clopet Company to the Father Mathew Hall.

That was the first time I saw East Lynne, with the evergreen Phoebe Bradley Williams playing Lady Isabel. What a spectacular melodrama that was. “Dead! Dead! And never called me Mother!”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house, and I left with the determination to devote my life thereafter to melodrama.

Meanwhile, Throwback Thursday reader Tim Cagney has shared memories of childhood summer holidays in Youghal:

“I have a (somewhat dim) recollection of holidaying there as a child - probably my first-ever. I’m not even sure if my late brother had yet made his appearance on the planet,” he said.

“We stayed in a B&B, directly across from the railway station. I the trains arriving. There used to be a water-tower there, from which the boiler of the locomotive was replenished. They would then move the engine to a turntable, from which it would travel a short distance before reversing to be re-attached to the carriages, ready for the return journey to the city - fascinating.

I seem to a sweet-shop on the seafront too - I think it was painted red and white. They had a jukebox there - my first encounter with such modern technology.

“One day, two of our neighbours (from Gardiners Hill) entered the premises, accompanied by their two children. The boys had just emerged from the sea, and their teeth were chattering with the cold - I can still almost hear the sound!

“Then, of course, there was Perks amusement park - great fun, but I must say that my preference was for Piper’s ‘merries,’ both at Crosser and at their winter residency on the Mardyke. “

Tim continues: “In later years, returning to scenes of childhood in Youghal, my wife and I became acquainted with a gentleman who ran a place called Cliff Pottery, just outside the town, on the road to Waterford.

“In addition to creating beautiful pottery (some of which we still have) he also kept bees, and collected honey. The honey was dark in colour, and he used to say it was because his bees fed on heather, grown in his own garden. You could actually taste the heather in the honey.

“He was also fond of cats (as I am) and once, one of his kittens perched on my shoulder, like Long John Silver’s parrot, and sat there for quite some time, observing proceedings in the studio. We haven’t been there for a while - I wonder if said gent is still with us?

“Incidentally, when we last visited Youghal, the old railway turntable was still there - I wonder if it can still rotate?

Like so many others, I totally regret the fact that the line was closed - another decision, no doubt, by some faceless politician (living in Dublin).

“It’s a terrible shame that such a facility was made redundant. I think the same thing happened with Cobh, but that, of course, has been remedied in recent years. Sadly, I fear Youghal will never experience such a revival.”

Well, they seem to have raised the subject again very recently, Tim, but far too late, alas, as the lines have been taken up, and the plans for the greenway well advanced. I fear they have missed the train on that one!

Does anyone the Old Youghal Bridge, legendary for its threatening wobble and the concrete-filled barrels spaced along it, to slow traffic down? Maybe you even travelled across it, holding your breath as your father carefully manoeuvred around those black-and-white-striped obstacles?

Built in 1832, to offer something more reliable than the previous ferry service, by 1928 its condition had deteriorated to such an extent that the weight of vehicles that could cross had to be limited.

It still wasn’t until 1938 though that the Waterford County Surveyor, John Bowen stated that all buses and heavy vehicles would have to be prohibited from using the bridge “forthwith”.

The barrels were put in place in 1939 (when everyone was expecting rather more frightening developments in Europe), and trucks, vans, buses were stopped on either side, necessitating a draughty walk across by engers, to be re-accommodated on the other side for their onward journey.

Naturally enough, given the Irish character, many drivers ‘chanced their arm’ and crossed anyway.

In 1950. the County Engineer, David Sheedy, wrote to the Gardaí in Midleton to complain about the “lenient” fine of ten shillings ed on a lorry driver who crossed the bridge.

In 1953, it was finally decided that a new bridge was essential, to be built further up river, but it took another ten years before the present structure which takes you from Cork to Waterford was opened.

Are you surprised to learn that costs came out far higher than the original quote? No, thought you wouldn’t be.

Those final high costs went to arbitration and weren’t actually agreed until 1970!

In the meantime, the beginning and end of the famed older bridge still stand at either side of the estuary, reminders of a less technically perfect, less efficient, but oh how much more lovable age.

we were talking about the golden age of going dancing last week?

“It is amazing how your Throwback Thursday features awaken so many fond memories for me,” writes Jimmy Barrett.

“The picture of the Palm Court got me reeling in the years. In the late ’50s, as a young lad in a rural village, I was always mightily impressed by an ad on the Social page of the Cork Examiner which conjured up all sorts of exotic visions in my mind. It was a picture of palm trees gently swaying in the breeze under the caption ‘Palm Court, Cork’s Most Up to Date and Luxurious Ballroom’.

“Little did I realise the major part that location would play in my later life!

“In July, 1962, when I came to live in the city, of course one of the must-see places was the Palm Court. To say I was underwhelmed would be an understatement. It was less than half the size of my local dance hall, and had no seating.

“The bandstand could barely fit the three musicians, (The Jack Brierley Band) and a small mineral bar. Men standing in a line on one side and ladies on the other.

“The most unusual thing was a spinning mirrored ball suspended in the middle of the ceiling which sent spots of light all over the place.

“At the end of the night, a low-sized middle-aged man would come on stage and wish everybody goodnight in many different languages (Buenos Noches etc) I think he was the proprietor. Mr J W Reidy?

“By 1963, I had become a regular there, and in October of that year I asked a lovely young girl to dance. She accepted and later asked me out for a Ladies’ Choice.

This young lady became my wife for 53 years until she sadly ed away five years ago.

“As for chat-up lines., when a buddy of mine came back to our side after a dance one night, I asked him how he got on with the girl. He said he asked her did she come here often, and she said ‘only when there’s a dance on’. He said he didn’t know whether she was being smart or just pure stupid!”

Well, we can enlighten you on that one, Jimmy. Just as you learned the chat-up lines, girls were taught the correct ‘smart’ reply. Unless of course they really fancied you…

What are your memories? Email [email protected]. Or leave a comment on our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/echolivecork.