We’ve always wanted to spend a night in the tiny village of Doolin in County Clare, and the arrival of our friend Rosie provided the perfect excuse for some Irish sightseeing. Even better, we would be able to get a ferry to the Aran Islands the next day – done deal. We piled into our car and set off so spontaneously that our accommodation and ferry transport had to be arranged from the back seat of the car en route.

Our luck with the weather continued with a clear, fine day that allowed us to enjoy the crisp autumn air and spectacular landscape around this part of the coast. After a very tasty seafood dinner (thanks Rosie!) we visited a couple of Doolin’s famous traditional music pubs. And maybe a couple of craft shops, despite Mommy WB’s aversion to woollen souvenirs.

On a beautiful sunny Tuesday Grandad took us to the Galbally Horse Fair which was very busy and lively with horses, ponies, donkeys and other livestock – we saw puppies, chickens and even a litter of piglets!

We asked Grandad about the Fair and this is what he told us:

“Before there were Marts all the cattle were sold in villages like that. Ballylanders had its own fair. You’d bring the cattle down and put them in a place in the village for sale. Everyone had their own little corner. We’d have our cattle outside the Kingdom Bar and the Cashins would have theirs outside the Premier. We used to walk them down from the farm at Carraturk.

“When the Marts opened up people started using them and now the cattle get sold by auction. You don’t have to be as good a judge of your own cattle because the auctioneer sets the price.

“The Galbally Fair was for cattle and everything one time. It nearly died out when people started using the Marts. It would have died out altogether except that about ten years ago on market day two people came in to the square, one man had a chicken and sold it to the other – this kept the rights to the market going and it’s built back up since then into a big annual fair.”

It was a glorious autumn day so we decided to go to Doneraile Park with Laura and Amy. Everyone had a fantastic time, first in the playground and then exploring the park – there are all sorts of things to see: deer, cows, birds and the stunning environment of the park itself.

 

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

 

September and October are cake-tastic months in the WildBerry household as Mommy and Mama WB, along with the elder WB celebrate their birthdays. This time it was Mama’s turn. A visit to the Saturday morning Milk Market was in order – this lively Limerick growers’ market features buskers, home made soda bread and a very fair attempt at a decent flat white. Birthday happiness!

 

  

  

 

The WBBs were delighted to be in Ireland and back in Nanna and Grandad’s house again. There is a lot going on for small children in a farming village like Ballylanders – tractors up and down the street; cows; visiting the playground; and of course the excitement of having their cousins around.

 

 

En route through Wexford we came across a tall ship moored on the River Barrow. Of course we had to stop and have a look. It turned out to be a painstakingly-crafted replica of a ship called the Dunbrody – one of the many so-called ‘famine ships’ that had ferried literally millions of starving Irish out of the country during the late nineteenth century.

We were allowed on board to explore on our own as the staff were waiting for a large tour group to arrive. The WBBs had a great time steering the wheel, ringing the bell and poking around above and below decks. It all seemed to be extremely authentic – apart from the life-size cardboard cut-out of a Wexford boy, one of the Irish rugby team who were presently doing very well in the World Cup competition. The starving emigrants were all rugby fans, it seems.

Naturally, it was raining when we arrived at Rosslare in the grey early morning. Coming off the ferry we had to remind ourselves to drive on the left. It was lovely to see the green hills of Ireland, even if they were a bit soggy. Insofar as a large MPV with UK plates, a roof box and bicycles hanging off the back can sneak, we snuck under an awning at a filling station and fired up our little gas stove to heat up a pre-prepared thermos of coffee. This is what the world had come to – no more popping into a little bar for a macchiato, a cortado or a noisette. After our picturesque stop, off we went to Ballylanders and Nanna and Grandad’s house. Hi Ho!

Laden with wine and cheese, we drove to Cherbourg and prepared to board the Stena Lines ferry to Rosslare in Ireland. By now seasoned travellers, the boys were delighted to be on a ‘sleeping ferry’ once more. As soon as we had sorted out our cabin we headed off to explore the ship. The captain warned us all that we were in for a rough crossing which did not thrill any of us. We explored on deck while we had the chance: “Where is the swimming pool?” wondered little WB. Looking at the grey stormy skies we assured him there would be no need for one on this trip.

Shortly after setting sail we were all herded into the main bar for a safety drill which featured a giggling French school group being bundled into life jackets and off out to the life boats. The crew seemed very efficient although we were left wondering exactly how bad the weather forecast was meant to be.

After the drill was over the children piled into the soft play area and big WB came running over, beside himself with excitement: “There’s a boy here and he speaks English!” This had been a rarity for him since we left London on 21 July. From that point on the two of them stuck to the play area (and their new friend) like glue. Mama WBs had an unusually relaxing voyage – we were able to read the newspaper and everything. During the night we all slept reasonably well – the journey was a bit rocky all right but the ship stayed afloat so we had no need of the emergency drill after all.

 

 

We were staying near the little village of Isigny-le-Buat, near the Normandy-Brittany border. It was nearly time to leave France and that meant one last visit to the Carrefour to stock up on a few bits and pieces before catching the ferry from Cherbourg to Ireland. So we used our trusty Google to find the nearest Carrefour hypermarket, and off we went to Saint-Martin-des-Champs.

The French know how to do family shopping in style: the children were delighted to find not only a merry-go-round in the car park, but also that the local Société Nationale de Sauvetage en Mer (National Society of Marine Rescue) had set up a display in front of the supermarket – children could ride on a real lifeboat.

WBB mamas are afraid that our imminent return to the usual humdrum supermarket shopping experience will be a sad let-down for our boys.

Wow! Wow! The WB mamas have always wanted to see Mont Saint-Michel, and we were extremely lucky – unusually for October and for the region, we visited on a fine, clear day. The Mont made a striking appearance when we were still some distance away – rising up from the otherwise flat landscape as if it were some kind of floating mirage. At the risk of using too many superlatives, it was a truly incredible sight.

We parked in the designated area and caught the free shuttle bus to the Mont. We could have walked, but having been cautioned about the steep climb up to the abbey itself, we wanted to save the little WBB legs and also our backs from having to haul two little boys up like sacks of potatoes. We’d like to to pause here and thank our friend Natasha from the bottom of our hearts for lending us her Ergo baby carrier – we would not have survived without it.

Once at the top we gave the littlest WB time to recover and then spent some time clambering around exploring the abbey. The plain, soaring stone architecture combined with the spectacular views create a feeling of tranquility despite the steady flow of sightseers. It would be horribly cold and isolated in winter – the determination required to build the abbey in the first place must have been quite something. However, while we were there the sun shone brightly and it was hard to imagine a finer way to spend our day.

It was time to head down and conquer more stairs. We bribed the boys with promises of sustenance. At the bottom of the hill Little WB begged for a return ride on a horse drawn carriage – he made it half way back before falling fast asleep, tired out from our adventures.