Goodbye Lilly and Rob, Hello Foxy Loxy. Thursday 21st May 2009.

The day had come for Lilly and Rob to return home to Belfast. Tomorrow, we too would leave Cavan behind to travel south to Cross, in County Clare.

Rob, JR and AJ went into town to pick up our hire car, returned home for a cup of tea and we waved Lilly and Rob goodbye. I hope they are leaving with the same wonderful memories as we all have of our time together in the wet and cold Cavan. It has been a great week with lots of chat and belly laughs. Love you Lilly and Rob and we will miss you.

Behind the Radisson Hotel in town is the beginning of quite a few walks around lakes and through green and damp forests. We three headed off to stretch our legs and get out to see a bit more of this pretty area. I left my camera in the car by mistake, a shame, as I saw a timid fox on our walk which would have made a great photo. He stopped on the pathway in front of me; we stared at each other, both not game to move for about 30 seconds, after which he disappeared into the thick growth never to be seen again. It was a lovely sight, his bushy tail the last piece of him I saw as it followed him to safety.

The Tourist Trail From Hell and More Laughs Than You Can Poke a Stick At. Sunday 17th May 2009.

We often laugh at the Irish for their funny ways – after today I can see why. We began a tourist trail covering the countryside of Cavan and surrounding drumlins for which we had found a glossy, fold out map and directions at the Cavan tourist office. What a disaster it was! The rain fell on and off all day, the heavens seemed to open up when John and Rob decided to climb a stile to go for a pee up a lane way.

Our first stop on the trail was at ‘The Workhouse’ in the tiny village of Bawnboy. The workhouse was barricaded off with no trespassing signs all over it. Why have something on a tourist trail if you are not allowed to see it we wonder? We laugh and continue onto number two attraction, a loch. To this day we are still looking for it. You would think with five intelligent people in a car we would have found our way but we didn’t. We turned this way and that up narrow lanes with hedgerows almost brushing the side of the car, over stone bridges crossing flowing streams, we searched everywhere. So, we had only seen attraction number one, and we really hadn’t seen it at all because we could not enter, we couldn’t find number two – it was already lunch time. Our sides were sore with laughing. The remedy – stop for lunch. We happened across Peter Brady (not the one from the Brady Bunch) and his dog ‘Jock’ as we snooped around the Ballyconnell Lock. We asked him if he could recommend a good place to eat. I found his answer rather amusing. You really must try to imagine his answer as it was given, with a thick Irish accent coming from an elderly man with grey hair and bushy beard to match, cheery eyes punctuating his ruddy face. It went like this:
“Sure tere’s a great meal to be had at The Angler’s Rest. Keep walkin’ down here along the loch and you’ll come to a wee bridge, go over it and go for a while, turn into town and you’ll see it for sure. But tey do a big meal tere now, you wouldn’t be wantin’ tat. So go to Supa Value and you’ll get a good dinner in tere. You take the car and drive through town and out da oter side, you’ll see it on da right for sure, they do a great meal in tere, but tere closed on a Sunday so you won’t be wantin’ tat.” ??? Why give directions to tow places that we won’t be wanting? Sounds Irish to me!

We did go to The Angler’s Rest and had a huge meal as Peter had said. The Carvery was on as it is every Sunday, the dining room was full and the laughter flowed. I had roast lamb with all the trimmings, the boys were happy with their noses in the feed bag.

The tour itself was rather unspectacular but the company and the scenery along the way was delightful, I think the flavour we added with our craic and all our wrong turns made it a wonderful day. The highlight was the ruins of Drumlane Abbey, set high on the rolling drumlins.

While John was taking photos of a blanket of white flowers we had spotted from the road, we found a few donkeys who Rob called over for a pat. They started off so friendly but one became cranky and started to bite its mate, he was nasty and eeeawwwed loudly. If I could speak donkey language I would hate to hear what he was saying.

Lilly and I made chicken and fried rice for dinner. As is the pattern, we sit around the table every night after dinner chatting away.

Exploring Cavan Town and Beyond. Friday 15th May 2009.

There’s not much to Cavan town, we covered it all in about 2 hours at a slow pace. Rob confessed his sins to Father at St. Patrick’s Cathedral – we have pictures Rob! Lilly was caught saying her prayers at the altar but refused to pay 25c for a candle, I’ll shout you one next time Lilly. We notice the absence of white soda bread. It seems they don’t sell it here at all which surprises us as we are only a few hours from Belfast where it is a huge part of the staple diet. There is however a close relation on the shelves, a brown soda which is nice and oaty.


We tootle out of town to Butlers Bridge and settle in at Berragarra Inn for a hearty lunch of Irish home cooking. Hmmm, the baked bacon with mash (served with an ice-cream scoop, hee hee hee) and cabbage was so tasty. It was a bit of a truck smash as JR would say, but the flavour was there that’s for sure.


Further along the road was Belturbet, a gorgeous little town with the Erne River flowing through it. We strolled along the rushing Erne and crossed to Turbet Island. Everything was lush and rainsoaked. Wild hawthorne lined the banks, it was pretty as a picture. The midgies bit Rob almost to death, they just loved his sweet Leprechaun blood.

The Belturbet farmers market was on this afternoon, a rather tiny affair with only seven stalls in total. Rosie from Rosie’s Country Kitchen entertained us with her sometimes foul-mouthed craic. Lilly bought a few of her homemade pies, one beef and Guinness and one chicken, vegetable and ham. Rosie makes her pastry and rests it for 24 hours before baking, it is gorgeous. She offers us all a sausage roll, its filling encased in the same delicious pastry as the pies. A little further along was The Cheesemaker, specialising mostly in matured cheeses of goat, cow and sheeps milk.

On the Road to County Cavan. Thrusday 14th May 2009.

We all packed our gear and the five of us, and luggage, piled into the Focus to head south to Cavan, nestled amongst green rolling drumlins and 360 lakes, one for each day of the year.

Diedre was there to meet us at our next home-exchange. We arrived at our country home at 2.30pm, a little later than expected. I had to laugh at Diedre’s directions to the house - “go as far as town then look for signs for the next, once u turn onto road it is 4.5km then turn left at stone cottage it is 4th house up the lane or u can go as far as the village then turn around and come back 1km and turn right at stone cottage. The home is a family holiday home, it’s 3 years old and still needing a few finishing touches. There are 4 bedrooms and bathrooms, a huge kitchen and dining area, lounge with lots of DVD’s and videos – Alex is happy, and a lovely ‘quiet room’ with cream leather couches and a gorgeous view of the hills. Over the days to come, while sitting at the dining table we see grouse and a hare in the garden. I love the country.

Tonight we went to dinner at The Black Horse Inn. I have a rather uninspiring chicken Kiev. I have happy memories of chicken Kiev from my younger years and I still try to find the same nirvana. I think it is time to accept that today’s chicken Kiev’s are pre-prepared frozen lumps of dry chicken meat with a token amount of garlic butter hidden inside. We all had a great night together with lots of craic.