We found ourselves at College Bay just a few minutes drive from our cottage and stumbled across an oyster farmer, Jim Lyons, as he tended his babies. “Hi there” I shouted across the sand. “Are you busy?” I asked. “Never too busy for a chat” came his reply; you gotta love the Irish, they love a chin wag that’s for sure. Jim was lovely and more than happy to share his years of knowledge about his much loved oysters. He cut some of his little beauties from their beds and proudly showed them off to us. We bade him goodbye and he yelled after us, “Do ya want a few dozen to take with you?” It was unfortunate our kitchen was in such a state that we have decided that we could not eat at home so we had to decline. I will just have to imagine how divine they would be.
Tiny Carrigaholt led to the seaside village of Kilkee where Mary McGreene was selling winkles and dillisk (sea-grass) fresh from the sea. She pried a winkle from deep within its shell and gave it to me to try. I liked it and it filled my mouth with the taste of the ocean.
The grey morning peeled away and the day transformed to soft, powder blue. We arrived at The Cliffs of Moher early afternoon and stayed for hours. We were transfixed with their beauty and the wildness of Clare’s coastline. We walked to the highest point and then climbed over a low fence (with everyone else), passed a ‘no trespassing’ sign and walked onto a dirt path that lead skyward along the tops of the cliffs. The cliffs plunged into the ocean below whose waves crashed relentlessly against them, the noise they made was hypnotic. AJ and I lay with our heads at the cliff edge, 250 metres between us and the ocean. The sun was balmy and it was a perfect moment.
We drove home via the famous Doonbeg Golf Club; we only stopped a while for a little sticky beak. It was about 8.30pm by the time we drove back to Carrigaholt and we were looking for some live music. We asked a lady by the name of Carol where we could find some and she said to come inside as some people had been singing at the bar. They weren’t by the time we arrived so Carol launched into an impromptu solo, her song was mournful and she sung with sweetness in her voice.
Around the corner form the bar was The Long Dock Restaurant. We ordered just before the 9pm closing of the kitchen. I had a simple prawn cocktail loaded with prawns caught from the bay just outside the restaurants door. It was just what I needed and was served with brown soda and butter – lovely.
