Celtic Roots Craic 66 – Columbanus – how the Irish saved civilisation!

St. Columbanus in stained glass window

At the moment I still live in Conlig – between Bangor and Newtownards, though we’ll soon be moving to our new/old cottage near Downpatrick. Bangor is not from the Irish – it’s from the Latin, Beann Chor, meaning good choir. That’s because the town of Bangor grew up around the ancient Irish monastery that was established there around 555 AD by a man called Comgall. 

It is reported that St. Patrick had once rested there and saw a valley filled with angels. All that remains there now is ‘St. Malachy’s Wall’ – most of the stone being re-used to build a later Abbey Church nearby – and a sundial, which is now placed in front of the Town Hall.

Comgall was born between 510 and 520 in Magheramorne, Co. Antrim, and educated at Movilla, in Newtownards, Glasnevin, in Dublin and Clonmacnoise, on the River Shannon, in Co. Offaly. He held to a very strict rule, with a lot of prayer and fasting, but also music and singing – the Bangor Antiphonary being the hymnbook which remains from those times. 

Almost 3,000 monks worked, studied and prayed there. They also held a 24-hour prayer watch – prayer, scripture reading and worship – that continued for more then 100 years and probably explains why Bangor has become known as ‘The Light of the World’ – sending missionaries out to Europe during what was known as the ‘Dark Ages.’

The two best-known of those missionaries were Colombanus – or Columban – and Gall, or Gallus. Columbanus – meaning ‘white dove’ – was born of a rich family in the province of Meath in 540 AD, but came to Bangor to study under Comgall. At the age of forty he was given permission to travel to Europe and took twelve younger men with him, including Gall.

They landed in Brittany, near St. Malo, in 585 AD, leaving a village of Saint Coulomb there, before moving on to Annegray, where they founded a monastery in an abandoned Roman fortress. In 590 he founded a second monastery in a nearby castle, at Luxeuil-les-Bains, and then a third called Ad-Fontanas – modern day Fontaine-lés-Luxeuil.

When the king of Burgundy died – who had been a strong supporter of Columbanus – his sons were still minors and Columbanus fell foul of their grandmother, Brunhilda, and eventually he and his Irish companions were forced to leave Burgundy. Their ship, however, was driven back to shore by a storm and the captain refused to take them any further. Columbanus and his friends travelled across France to Switzerland and Bregenz, in Austria, where they established another monastery. 

Colombanus moved on after a year, crossing the Alps into Italy, but Gallus remained and later founded another monastery nearby, which was named after him, St. Gallen – now the town of St. Gallen. 

Columbanus arrived in Milan in 612 and was welcomed by the king and queen of Lombardy, who gave him land at Bobbio, including a ruined church, so he could establish a monastery there, which he did in 614 AD. Columbanus died at Bobbio a year later, having meanwhile been invited to return by the new king of Burgundy. He and his followers are credited with saving the civilisation of Europe.

Celtic Roots Craic 65 – 'Ye cannae take our freedom!

Scottish highland bagpipes

I got into a whole history of Galicia last time – which I found interesting, I don’t know about yous? – anyway, it occurred to me I haven’t talked about our close neighbours across the North Channel – the Scots. 

My grandfather was actually born in Glasgow – or Glasgae, as they might put it! – although my great-grandfather had actually come there from here in Northern Ireland, then married a Scots lady called Mary ?? and the rest of that sad story I’ve told before. 

A lot of people in Northern Ireland have Scots connections – many of them dating back to the time of the Highland Clearances – back in the early 1700s – when many Scots came to the north of Ireland, as well as emigrating to North America. 

Scots from the Highlands and islands were forcibly evicted from their crofts, so the landlords could develop huge sheep farms – making money came first, once again! These evictions pretty much destroyed the traditional Scottish clan-based society, that had existed up until then – and the emigration has continued – just as it has done in Ireland – ever since. The Scottish Celtic band, Runrig, released a great song about it, called ‘Oran Ailein/Leaving Strathconon.’ 

We Irish – especially in the the north – share quite a lot with our Caledonian neighbours. In the 6th and 7th centuries there used to be a Gaelic kingdom called, Dalriada – or Dál Riata, in Gaelic – which spanned the North Channel, with part of the kingdom stretching to Argyll, in Scotland – the coast of the Gaels – and the other part in County Antrim – which would explain the Scots accent in ‘Co. Antrim, hey!’

They still speak Gaelic in western parts of Scotland – only they call it gáidhlig!  Gáidhlig and the Ulster gaeilge have many similarities, but there are differences, too – you can easily get caught out! 

By the way, do you know where the word, Scot, originated? It comes from the Latin word, scotus, meaning an Irishman – so all them Scots over there are really just Ireland, east!

Of course not all people from Scotland are really Scots – that is of Irish descent – the tribe that lived in the eastern part of Scotland were the Picts. As far as I know they had no connection with Ireland, and they had a few battles with the Scots of Dál Riata. The first king of Dál Riata was Fergus Mór – Fergus the Great, from which, of course, you get the Scots name, Ferguson – plenty of those about in Ireland! Eventually, in the 9th century the Scots and Picts united into the new kingdom of Alba, or Albannach.

Did you ever hear the story of how the Scottish bagpipes were invented? No? Well, a certain Scots chieftain came over to the north of Ireland for a wee visit and they laid on a banquet with food, drink and entertainment. He was very impressed when he heard the wild sound of the Irish uilleann pipes and asked if he could possibly get a set to take back to Scotland.

Well, the local chieftain called in his pipe maker and he agreed to do his best to make him a set of pipes before the visiting chieftain went home. When it came time to leave the pipe maker presented the Scottish chieftain with a newly made set of pipes, and explained that he hadn’t had the time to make the bellows, which are used to fill the uilleann pipes with air, but had put in a little pipe that the player could blow into in the meantime. And ye know what? The Scots haven’t caught on to this day!

Celtic Roots Craic 64 – Galicia – the Cinderella of Celtic nations

Galician flag

You might have noticed we’ve been playing a lot more Breizh music – from Brittany – on recent shows? That’s because several Breton musicians and bands have contacted me from France – usually through Facebook. And I’m also hoping to get hold of some authentic Galician tunes in the near future, from a similar contact. 

Galicia is the north western province of Spain – with towns like A Corunya, Vigo, Santiago de Compostela – where the famous pilgrimage across the north of Spain terminates. Another inland town is Lugo, which is named after the ancient pagan Celtic God, Lugh – like the village Conlig, close to where I live at the moment – which gives ye a bit of a clue to the Celtic heritage of Galicia.

Unlike Catalonia, which has been having a big row with the Spanish government over independence, the Galicians seem to be happy enough with their lot. They’ve had their own autonomous parliament since 1978 – Franco took away their autonomy while he was in power. The Galicians were originally called Gallaeci by the Greeks and Romans – similar to the Galli – in Gaul, and the Gallati – the Galatians, another Celtic tribe who lived in part of what is now Turkey – St Paul wrote a letter to them, remember? In those days Galicia extended into what is now northern Portugal. They lived in fortified villages called castros – hill forts.

The Roman historians regarded them as a bunch of barbarians – occupying themselves in fighting by day and eating, drinking and dancing at night – sounds like they were true Celts all right! When Rome collapsed the Kingdom of Galicia survived independently for more than 170 years. Like Brittany, the northern part of Galicia had an influx of fellow Celtic Britons, who had been squeezed out by the anglo-Saxon invasion of what then became England. The Britons brought Christianity with them and established their own diocese of Britonia. In 718 Ad the Islamic Moors took over most of Iberia – modern Spain and Portugal, but they never really conquered Galicia – just sent some soldiers to collect taxes from them. 

Unfortunately, the Galicians no longer speak a Celtic language – modern Galician is a Romance language, based on Latin and close to Portuguese, which – although containing lots of Celtic words – disqualifies them, in the opinion of some, from being a truly Celtic nation. At a meeting of the Celtic League in 1986, Galicia officially joined the other six Celtic nations – Brittany, Cornwall, Ireland, Isle of Man, Scotland and Wales. Unfortunately for Galicia, this decision caused an uproar in the Celtic League and – mainly because they no longer have a living Celtic language – Galicia’s membership was revoked again a year later.

Despite this rejection, regular Celtic Festivals are held there – the International Festival of the Celtic World in Ortigueira being one of the largest and best known in Europe, with sometimes over 100,000 visitors. Last year the Galician Parliament recently celebrated the 40th anniversary of self rule with bagpipes and folk songs. Yeah, the place is apparently coming down with bagpipers – which they call gaitas, similar to words used for the pipes in eastern Europe. There are hundreds of pipers – gaiteras – registered in Galicia! Some of the most popular tunes are called munieras – which are very similar to Irish jigs – I’ve played some on past shows.

Galicia has something else in common with the other Celtic nations in that it is remote, hilly and not industrialised. The coastline is made up of rias – flooded river estuaries, similar to those found in Brittany – with plenty of beaches. The climate is generally wetter than other parts of Spain – so us Scots and Irish should feel right at home. And there’s Finisterre – Land’s End in Galician – the second most westerly point in mainland Europe.

And, while it may not be particularly Celtic, the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage ending in Santiago de Compostella, nearby, attracts millions of pilgrims, who walk the Camino Trail and stay overnight in special hostels provided for the pilgrims. The saints bones were rediscovered after the Romans departed and are claimed to be those of the apostle James, who was the first disciple martyred in Jerusalem, then – apparently – secretly transported the length of the Mediterranean by his disciples. Some believe the bones were actually those of the fourth-century, Priscillian, bishop of Avila, who was executed by the emperor as a heretic and whose followers brought his body back to Spain from Trier, in Germany.

A former colleague of mine when I was a lecturer – from here in Northern Ireland – went on the pilgrimage and then wrote a book about it – it’s called ‘Restless Hearts'.

Celtic Roots Craic 63 – Roast potatoes, chips 'n' mash!

Fried farls of potato bread

There is one thing that people always associate with Ireland, although they actually originated in the Americas. The Inca Indians in Peru were the first to cultivate potatoes back around 5,000 B.C.

Then, in 1536, the Spanish Conquistadors conquered Peru, discovered the potato, and brought it to Europe. Sir Walter Raleigh brought potatoes to Ireland in 1589, on his 40,000 acre estate near Cork. And the rest, as they say, is history.

But why is the potato associated so much with Ireland? Well, the main reason is that during Penal times most of the Irish were poor tenant farmers. They grew wheat, barley and oats on their smallholdings, but it took the sale of most of that to pay the high rents.

So, they cultivated a small area of their land in potatoes and mostly they lived on that – which is why the Irish Famine in 1845 and subsequent years had such a devastating affect. The potato blight that destroyed the crops affected Britain and Europe, also, but the people there were not so dependent on the potato for survival – they had bread and meat to live on.
Did you know that all through the famine years, Ireland continued to export cattle, sheep, pigs, wheat and barley in great quantities. Profits came first, unfortunately, and the poor people found their only means of sustenance turned into a rotting mush. Many of them tried to survive on grass and often whole families were found dead with grass stains on their mouths. 

Capitalism and a lack of concern – ‘sure they were only Irish Catholics, weren’t they?’ – caused the deaths of about a million people! Actually, though, quite a few Protestants – mainly Presbyterians – died also. There was no international famine aid, or emotional TV appeals in those days!
So, you’d think we’d have gone right off potatoes by now, wouldn’t ye? Not a bit of it! We were up in Donegal a few years ago and decided to have a meal in Buncrana, in the old railway station, there, which has become a restaurant and pub. 

While we were waiting for a table there was a local boy making a mobile phone call home to his wife. He’d obviously stopped in for a pint, and – by the look of him, he intended to have a few more – but was reassuring his wife, ‘I’ll be home for the spuds, now, so I will. Oh, aye, I’ll be home for the spuds!’ 

When he actually arrived home ‘for the spuds’ is anybody’s guess and whether they were still fit to eat, or stone cold, or burnt, or maybe eaten by the dog – we’ll never know. Perhaps not the recipe for domestic harmony, eh?
Speaking of recipes, I said we were down in Dublin recently – for the first time in a few years. We had a meal in Gallagher’s Boxty House in Templebar and, of course, we both had boxty. It’s a sort of pancake made with potato and then filled with chicken, beef, or whatever, in a sauce – very tasty! You can get it in Belfast, too, on the Belfast Barge – a floating restaurant on the River Lagan. 
In nearly any Irish restaurant you can get a ‘feed a’ champ’, which is mashed potato with scallions mixed in (spring onions, if you’re English). By the way, did you know that the word, scallion, came from the town of Ashquelon, in Israel? Another variation on champ is something called colcannon, which is mashed potato mixed with cabbage. That’s very tasty as well.
But something you’re unlikely to find south of the border is potato bread. That’s an Ulster thing – a vital component of the Ulster Fry, in fact. If ye’ve never had an Ulster Fry, then ye’d better get yerself over here and try one – but maybe not if yer suffering from heart disease already! They also do potato bread in Scotland.
When I was a wee nipper my mother used to make soda bread, wheaten, treacle bread and potato bread – all baked on the griddle set on top of a gas stove. You take a wean a’ cooked potatoes and mash them up, add a wee taste a’ flour and a teaspoonful of salt and spread the mix out on a flour-covered board, or baking sheet. Then you roll the mix out thin and place it on the griddle, with some flour sprinkled on it, cut it into four pieces and cook it dry. You can always fry it up in the pan with oil, or butther, later.
My mother also made a variation on this called potato apple – potato bread with chopped apple mixed in – mmm, delicious! It’s very hard to find anywhere that sells potato apple these days, but ye can easily make it yerself.
The other potato thing we love is potato crisps – or potato chips, if yer American! They were supposedly invented by a black American chef, in Saratoga, New York – one George Crum, I kid you not! – but actually, they first appeared in an English cook book by William Kitchiner in 1817. 
Of course, an Irishman got in on the act – Joe Murphy – who else? known as ‘Spud Murphy’ – who started up the Tayto company in Ireland and is credited with inventing Cheese ’n’ Onion flavoured crisps – my favourite! The Tayto factory in Northern Ireland is inside a big stone castle, down in Tandragee, Co. Armagh. I actually once drove a lorry – a truck – right inside the castle to make a delivery. Oh, and by the way, not far from Dublin we have the Tayto Theme Park!
So, we Irish do love our spuds – purties, praties – whatever! You’ve heard of the Irish mixed grill, haven’t you? – roast potatoes, chips and mash?

Celtic Roots Craic 62 – Huguenots, 'Millies' and the ‘wee blue blossom’.

A field of flax in blossom

I think it’s time for a wee bit a’ history. There are a few things that Ireland is well known for – music, fighting, our accents, Irish whiskey, being scattered all over the world ..  

Apparently Ireland ranks second in the Good Country Index – after Finland, would you believe? But there are a couple of exports that are particularly related to the north, here – Ulster. You’ve heard of Irish linen? 

When the Industrial Revolution came to Ireland it mostly affected the north. Of course, the famine in 1845 contributed greatly to poor people leaving the countryside and heading for towns and cities – and the Irish ports, railways and canals were built to bring produce to those ports, to supply the market in England. Cotton and linen mills were established in towns and villages all over Ulster – but not much south of what since became the border.

The Irish Linen industry developed here because of a group of people called the Huguenots, who emigrated here from France in the mid nineteenth century.  King Henry IV, of France, issued the Edict of Nantes in1598 – which gave religious freedom to the Protestant Huguenots. That, unfortunately, was later revoked by king Louis XIV, who issued the Edict of Fontainebleau in 1685. The Huguenots were stripped of their freedom and ordered to renounce their faith. 

So, thousands of these persecuted Protestants decided to call it a day and emigrate from France and, for some of them, the north of Ireland seemed the right kind of place to head for – as they were pretty much Presbyterians. They brought with them their particular skills in weaving and finishing linen.

Linen is made from flax, and Ireland had a particularly suitable climate and topography both for growing and, after harvesting, for retting the flax. Retting was basically rotting away the outside to leave the strong fibres inside the plant. This was done in a flaxhole – which was a dug out pond, or ditch, where the flax was placed under water for a time. 

Flax has been grown in Ireland from at least the eleventh century, and was referred to as the ‘wee blue blossom’, from the pale blue flowers the plant produced. In the sixteenth century Irish nobles wore tunics – or leines – made from linen which had been dyed yellow, using saffron obtained from the crocus flower. Yellow, apparently, was a status symbol at the time.

Most of the Huguenots arrived here in the nineteenth century – around 5,000 of them – and, by this time, Presbyterians were no longer discriminated against in Ireland. They came to places like Dublin, Cork, Kilkenny, Waterford and Portarlington – and some came to the north and settled around the town of Lisburn. 

They brought Huguenot names, such as Fyfe – I had a friend called Tony Fyfe; Boucher (or Bow cher) – there’s still a Boucher Road in Belfast today; Cloquet (or Clokey), De Vagnes (which became Devanny or Devenny), René (which became Rainey), etc. A lot of these names are still in use today. 

Linen production is mentioned in the ancient Brehon Laws. The Irish trade in wool was too competitive with England and  William of Orange encouraged the Irish Parliament to pass a law restricting wool export and in 1699 it was prohibited altogether. So the Irish had to concentrate on the linen industry instead and, by the end of the eighteenth century linen accounted for about half of Ireland’s exports. 

A Huguenot called Louis Crommelin came here from Cambrai in the north of France – actually, we still have a Cambrai Street in Belfast – only Belfast people pronounce it with four syllables, instead of two – Cam-ber-ai-yah Street!  Crommelin set up a weaving factory in Lisburn – the town where I went to school. He is regarded as the founder of the Irish linen industry. 

In 1825, hand spinning and weaving were replaced by machines and the large Belfast mills came into being. Encouraged by the famine, many people moved from the country to Belfast. Most of the employees were poor, uneducated and female and became known as ‘millies’, or more often, ‘wee millies!’ 

Some of my own family were a part of this story. My great uncle, George Given, moved from owning a grocer’s shop in Dunkineely, Donegal, to Lisburn in 1877. His sons worked as ‘hackle-setters’ in one or other of the two flax mills, he himself drove a cart between the mills. My own father worked in the surviving Linen Thread Company mill for most of his life – though he was an electrician. I actually worked there for one summer myself.

There’s a sad Belfast tale about a man from the Shankill Road who cuts his wife’s throat with a razor and then, in fear of the law, hangs himself with a linen bed sheet twisted into a rope. The story finishes, ‘He went to hell, but his wife got well, and she’s still alive and sinnin’, for the razor blade was German made, but the rope was Belfast linen!’

Celtic Roots Craic 61 – Irish export – good and not so good!

Sunset in northern Manitoba

You’re most likely listening to this because you love Celtic music and culture. There’s a bit of a sad story behind why that’s so popular around the world – we’ve exported Irish and Scottish culture and music because so many people from this part of the world felt they had to leave here and go somewhere where they felt free from oppression. 

The ‘Highland Clearances’ in Scotland resulted in mass emigration to the New World. The English ruled in Ireland for centuries and anyone who didn’t worship in the English way was persecuted – in other words Presbyterians and Roman Catholics. 

During Penal times, Catholic priests were forced into hiding and would come out to a mass rock in remote country to serve their people communion. If they were caught, those who weren’t executed were imprisoned on an island in the west. Presbyterians, likewise, were forced to hold their ‘hedgerow schools’ out in the wilds and the English mocked them and called them ‘blackmouths’, because the children would have stained mouths from eating wild blackberries. For a time both Catholic priests and Presbyterian preachers had a bounty on their heads.

In Oliver Cromwell’s time many Irish people were forcibly transported to the Caribbean as indentured labour in the sugar and tobacco plantations. These Irish labourers were the first European settlers on the volcanic island of Montserrat in 1632, and it’s had an Irish culture ever since – an Irish scholar in 1831 reported that the Irish language was still spoken by both black and white inhabitants. Unfortunately, the Irish later became owners of imported black African slaves and didn’t treat them any better than they had been treated.

The same sort of thing happened in the US and Canada. Many Scots and Irish went there to find religious freedom, and in the early days, some Highland trappers married native women and became full natives themselves – so that today there are native tribes in Manitoba and Saskatchewan with Scottish names like McGregor, Spence, Tait, Macdonald, Calder … Some became what were known as Anglo-Metis, even developing their own ‘Bungee Creole’ language – which was a mixture of Scots Gaelic, Cree and Ojibwe that is still spoken today in certain parts of Manitoba. 

By the way, we passed on to native Americans a form of music and dance, now known as ‘Jiggin’.’ 

But most Irish and Scottish settlers interpreted the native traditions they observed as ‘pagan’ and eventually laws were introduced to ‘civilise’ these people – the ‘Indian Acts’. In Canada the churches were brought in to manage these ‘Residential Schools’ in an attempt to drive the native out of these children – that’s where the term ‘Final Solution’ first came into use! 

Physical and sexual abuse were rife and nearly 50% of the children didn’t survive their Residential School experience. Those that did had been divorced from their traditions, their language and normal family relationships and that often led directly to alcohol, drug and other ‘substance’ dependence of many native people. When I first travelled to a Manitoba reserve in 2004 I apologised on the local radio station for what people from here had done in our name – I got a very positive response. If you want to know more about this check out my ‘Broken Treaties’ podcast on PreciousOil.com

So, nearly anywhere you go in the world you’ll find Irish people – 50 million of them in the US! As like as not they’re involved in building something – and likely spending the proceeds on quenching their thirst and loosening their vocal chords for a wee bit of a ’session!’  But the reason they originally left here to travel to these far off places was maybe not so pleasant. 

Celtic Roots Craic 60 – Belfast, bil-fahst and Canada, eh?

Belfast Harbour at night

Well, yez all seem to like learnin’ how things are said and done in this part of the world. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeatin’ – there’s no such thing as an Irish accent, there’s a whole host of different accents! 

We were at a Thanksgiving feed the other night – about a hundred of us – and there were some Americans there, obviously; some Canadians, too – and opposite me was a friend from Cork – or as they would say, Cark! And a couple of weeks ago we were down in Dublin – for the first time in quite a while. If ye’ve ever had to drive through Dublin, ye’ll appreciate the reasons for avoiding it, unless you’re actually going there. 

Anyway, we were at an International Crime Writers Festival, called, ’Murder One’ – my wife, Gerry, had been asked to read at it. It was in Templebar and we stayed two nights at a hotel in Templebar – a very noisy place at night, with live music in a pub just opposite, but a great place to eat out. We had Greek food one night and Irish boxty another night, with a Russian waiter serving us. 

So, at the Thanksgiving meal we were discussing the fact that both Belfast and Dublin have not one, but two, accents – there’s the 'real Dub' accent of the inner city and then there’s the polite – sometimes called, ‘West Brit’ – accent of the suburbs.

Belfast is the same, only different – if yer from the Newtownards Road ye would probably say, ‘East Belfaast,’ and in the west they’ll say, ‘West Belfaast’, Same with the Shore Road, they’ll say ‘North Belfaast.' But people from more polite parts – like the Malone Road – would say they’re from ’South Belfast!’  

If yer from Belfast nearly every sentence will end with, now – only it’s pronounced, ‘Nye!’ but if yer from county Antrim, it’ll end with, ‘hey’ – ‘I’m from Ballymena, hey!’ And if you live in Derry, hey – no that’s just Derry/Londonderry, with a ‘hey’ stuck on the end, so you can stop Googling where Derryhay is, you won’t find it! – they have their own variation – they’ll say something like, ‘I’m from Derry, hey, mugger!’ 

Actually, we’re not the only ones to end sentences with a particular word. Canadians are famous for putting, ‘eh?’ at the end of a sentence – y’ know, ‘How do you spell ‘Canada’ – it’s  C, eh? N, eh? D eh?’ and not to be outdone, the New Yorkers have their own variation, ‘Huh?’ 

Many years ago – while I was still single – I shared a house just outside Belfast with a friend, John Garrett, from Alabama. We discovered many differences in the languages we both spoke – so that I eventually coined the phrase, ‘The two languages are very similar, aren’t they?’ ‘What’s that?’ ‘Y’know, English and American!’ 

In Ireland a car has a bonnet at the front – the phrase, ‘Pop the hood,’ means something entirely different over here! – you could be eliminating somebody from a rival gang. And cars don’t have fenders, they have wings. We walk on the footpath – not the pavement, and certainly not on the sidewalk!

One thing I will say, though, is Americans and Canadians are usually quite easy to transcribe. I’m compiling a book from radio interviews I did some time ago and the peopl from North America – especially the deep south – they speak steadily and reasonably, whereas the Irish, and the Scots, speak in little bursts. So, that word that you can’t quite make out turns out to be maybe six words all run together. At the moment I’m transcribing an interview with a lady from In-dee-ah – same problem, they speak English – but they pronounce words verrry differently.

So, there ye are, where are ye? Ever since the trouble at the Tower of Babel, communication has become just a wee bit tricky!

Celtic Roots Craic 59 – Patrick's Day, Purim and Molly Bloom's

Murphy's Irish Festival, Tel Aviv

Well, it just so happens that two celebrations are happening back to back this weekend – the Jewish festival of Purim finishes on the 14th of Adar – which is Sunday 16th – and, of course, St. Patricks Day is on the 17th! But y’all knew that last bit, didn’t ye? Anyway, chag Purim sameach to all our Jewish and Israeli listeners. Apparently, there are several day long parties happening at several pubs across Israel. 

At Purim the Jews celebrate the story of Queen Esther, who delivered the whole Jewish race from extinction by the wicked Haman. She fasted and prayed, then went in to the Persian king, her husband, without being summoned, which could have resulted in her own death. Thankfully, the king looked kindly on her and heard her request on behalf of her people. In the end, it was the wicked Haman who was executed, along with his whole family.

To celebrate the deliverance from death of Purim, the Jews give each other presents of food and drink, recite the complete story of Esther, from the bible, donate to charity, eat a lot of food, dress up in fancy dress and masks, drink a lot of alcohol and celebrate in the streets, with dancing and so forth. So, there’s not a whole lot of difference between Purim and St. Paddy’s Day, is there?

Now, you may not be aware of this, but the Israelis are mad keen on Irish music and there are Irish pubs all over Israel. I can’t claim to have visited every one of them – even with my five trips to Israel, so far – but I did get to an Irish festival in Tel Aviv in 2006, which led to me meeting a Jewish brother and sister, originally from here in Ireland – well, he WAS carrying a bodhran! They told about the best Irish pub in Tel Aviv and, of course, I decided to investigate.

The pub is called ‘Molly Bloom’s’ (she was the wife of Leopold Bloom, who was the hero of James Joyce’s book, ‘Ulysses’) and the pub is at the end of Mendele Street, in Tel Aviv, beside the beach. Apparently, on St. Patrick’s Day the street is so packed that the police come and close it off to traffic. 

Anyway, I found it easily enough, and went in to find a packed Irish pub, great food, draught Guinness, and about twenty Irish musicians playin’ their hearts out. One girl had the most beautiful clear Irish voice, singing an unaccompanied song – but it turned out, to my great surprise, that there wasn’t an Irish person among them! They were all native Israelis and brilliant musicians. Needless to say, I’ve been back there since – both for the music, the Guinness and for the great food (the seafood pie, or the venison sausages? Hmm!)

Strange to say, I’ve not officially performed in any of these pubs – though I have busked in Jerusalem at the end of Shabbat – but maybe one day in the future I’ll put that right!  

St. Patrick’s Day is also celebrated all over Moscow and in other strange and far-flung places. So, wherever ye happen to be, ‘Paddys lá sona’ or ‘Lá fhéile Phádraig shona duit.’ – have a great St. Patrick’s Day!

Celtic Roots Craic 58 – 'To Finaghy and beyond'

Captain Courier van – 'To Finaghy and beyond!'

The other day I came across it again, a wee courier service in the Belfast area humorously named, 'To Finaghy and Beyond!' Finaghy, in case ye didn't know, is a village just to the west of Belfast, towards Lisburn – where I originally come from. Finaghy actually means 'white field', fionn being the Irish word for white.  Most place names in this part of the world are from Irish, for instance Belfast comes from Bel Fierste, which means 'mouth of the sandbanks'.  

A lot of place names have common features – the most likely is Bally, from the Irish 'Boile', meaning 'place of' – so we get places like Ballynahinch, 'place of the island' – 'inch', or 'inish' meaning island.  Ballymore would mean 'the big place', whereas Ballybeg means 'the lttle place'. The same with places called Dromore and Drumbeg – both in Co. Down, meaning 'big hill' and 'little hill', respectively. Bunmore and Bunbeg are again 'big river mouth' and 'little river mouth', respectively.  Derry comes from the Irish 'doire', meaning 'an oakwood' – so again you'll find Derrybeg and Derrymore, or sometimes Deramore, all over the place. In Co. Down we have a small place known as Derryboye, 'boy' meaning yellow.

The Irish word for a rock is 'carraig', (from which we get the name Craig), or sometimes 'carrick', for example Carrickfergus, a port town in Co. Antrim, meaning 'the rock of Fergus'. You'll also find plenty of places called Ballincarrig, or Ballycarry – 'place of the rock', and similar. The word for black is 'dubh', as in Dublin, which comes from the Irish Dubh Ling, meaning 'black pool'. So Carrigdubh, or more likely Carryduff, simply means Black Rock. 

Another common place name is 'maghera', which means 'a plain', so you get Magherafelt in Co. Derry, Maynooth in Co. Kildare, and Moycullen, in Co. Galway. A great one in Co. Down is the townland of Magheraconluce, which means 'plain of the meadow of the fort'. Another example is the area known as The Maze, near Lisburn, famous for The Maze Racecourse.

A lot of Irish place names have some religious significance. The Irish word 'kill', meaning a cell, or church, is found all over the country, from Kill, in Co. Kildare, outside Dublin, to Shankill, meaning 'old church' – found near Bray, Co Wicklow, Lurgan, Co. Armagh and also, of course, in north Belfast – the famous, or infamous, Shankill Road.  There are lots of Killbegs and Killmores, Killdrums, Killoughs and so forth. The word 'temple', from the Irish 'teampaill', also meaning church, is often found, for example, Templepatrick, Co. Antrim, or Templemore, in Co. Tipperary.

A more unusual word for church though is Donagh, which literally means 'Lord', but is usually short for 'the Lord's house' – Donaghadee, in Co. Down, for example, means 'the Lord's house of St. Dee'. Donaghmore in Co. Tyrone just means 'big church'. 'Tobair' is an Irish word meaning 'a well', so you get places like Tobermore, 'big well', in Co. Derry, and the monastery of Tobair Mhuire, or 'Mary's Well', in Crossgar, Co. Down. There's a Ballintober, 'place of the well' in Co. Roscommon, and another Ballintubber, in Co. Mayo.

Then there are lots of variations on the word 'fort'.  'Dun' is a an example, usually meaning a fortified house, or stronghold, so we get Co. Down = 'An dun', Downpatrick, Dunmurry, near Belfast, (next to Finaghy, actually!), Dunfanaghy in Co. Donegal, and lots of Dundrums, Dunbegs, Dunmores, etc. 'Lis' is another word for a fort, usually a Celtic ring fort. I've mentioned Listooder before, which is 'fort of the tanner'. Lisnagarvey, Co. Antrim, was the old name for Lisburn, 'Garvey's fort', or 'fort of the gamblers', until the fire there in the 1600s, when it was renamed, Lisburn.  

Yet another name for a fort is 'rath', which refers to the earthen bank enclosing a fort, whereas 'lis' refers to the open space inside. There are quite a few places with 'rath' in their name, Rathlin Island, off the north coast of Co. Antrim, being an obvious one. In Dublin you have Rathfarnham, with its castle, and just outside Belfast there is the Rathcoole Estate, along with a few Rathmores, and a village simply called Rath, in Co. Tipperary.  'Rath' is often abbreviated to 'ra', for example, Rathmelton, in Co. Donegal, which is spelt 'Rath melton', and the townland of Rademon in Co. Down, which comes from 'rath, (or fort,) of the demons'. A stone fort is usually referred to as a 'caiseal', from which the word 'castle' obviously comes, so most names have become castle, e.g. Newcastle, which can be found in several places in Ireland. The famous one is of course the Rock of Cashel, from which Cashel town gets its name.

And before we leave the subject, there's also 'droichead', which means 'bridge', from which we get Drogheda, the town in Co. Louth, and Droiched Nua, or Newbridge, in Co. Kildare.

Celtic Roots Craic 57 – 'Uisce beatha' or a pint a' 'double'

'Warrior Maid' moored in Groomsport Harbour

The sad news is that my boat, Warrior Maid, has sustained a fair bit of damage to the keel over the winter. In fact, it actually sank just before Christmas – though I managed to pump it out later the same day and get it floating again. I had to spend most of the following night during high tide travelling up and  down to the harbour and pumping it out every hour and a half, as the water was coming in steadily. Next day when the tide came up again I pumped her out again and we moved her up the slipway, where she can't possibly sink again. In the wintertime the slip isn't too busy but, even so, I need to get the boat lifted out onto dry ground ASAP. Now that I've got my boat trailer back from a friend, I'll be able to get the crane down to lift her out.  

So, I've been working out in the cold quite a bit – making adjustments to the trailer, cutting, welding, angle-grinding, de-rusting and painting – while I have the chance. Once the boat is on the trailer, I can forget about it for a wee while and start to get some work done on converting my stone barn into a home. The other day, the sun was shining in a clear blue sky, with very little wind, and I worked until it set – by which time it was getting pretty cold. On the way home I was driving west with the remains of a beautiful sunset lighting up the sky in front of me and a huge orange full moon rising behind me. Spectacular!

Well, it's getting close to St. Patrick's Day again, and lovers of Celtic and Irish music and culture all over the world will be wantin' to celebrate the fact. It's amazin' that they don't do this with St. David's Day, St. Andrew's Day, St. George's Day or any other saints day that I know of.  What is it about an Irish saint that has made him so popular? St. Patrick's Day is celebrated enthusiastically in north America, Russia and Israel – as well as many other places where there are Irish immigrants.

I've been to Israel a few times and one of the best Irish pubs I've been to is called Molly Bloom's – right beside the beach in Tel Aviv. The food is great and the music and the atmosphere is even better. The first time I was there was a few weeks before St. Patrick's Day and even on Friday evening (not always the best time for entertainment in Israel) there were around twenty musicians playing in a session there. There is music Monday, Wednesday and Friday – it just starts earlier on Friday. There were guitars, banjos, bodhrans and fiddles galore – and a girl singer with a beautiful 'Irish' lilt …  But there wasn't an Irish person among them!  Every single one was an Israeli. And all over Israel you can find other bars that play Irish music on a regular basis – even in Arad, down in the Negev.

Apparently, Irish culture – and recently especially the northern Irish accent, etc. – is the most popular around the world. No wonder then that when I go abroad – even though, being from Northern Ireland, my passport says 'British' – I don't claim to be British, but Irish.

Locke's Distillery, Kilbeggan, Co. Westmeath

As well as welcoming Irish culture and music around the world, people internationally seem also to have got more and more of a taste for our national spirit – Irish whiskey. Or 'uisce beatha' as it's said in Irish. 'Uisce beatha' is simply a direct translation of the Latin, 'aqua vitae' – 'water of life' in English – and it used to be brewed by monks in monasteries around Ireland. Today there are really only four major distilleries of Irish whiskey in Ireland – so nearly all the different brands of Irish whiskey come from one of these four. One is based way down in Co. Cork, in Midleton;  another is just across the border in Co. Louth, on the Cooley Peninsula, and they also now own the third, originally Locke's Distillery in Kilbeggan, Co. Westmeath. The fourth distillery is in Co. Antrim, at Bushmills on the River Bush.  

I've been on a tour around this distillery – famous for it's Black Bush and Coleraine whiskeys. At the end of the tour you get a free sample of one of the products. That reminds me of the Irishman who once drowned in a vat of whiskey – apparently, he got out three different times to go to the bathroom! That didn't happen to me, thankfully, as – believe it or not – I'm not really a whiskey drinker. I do like the odd pint of the beor dhu mind you – the black stuff, Guinness, that is.

There is a story told – whether true or not, I wouldn't know – of Arthur Guinness witnessing the extreme drunkenness of many Dubliners one Sunday morning, due to their consumption of Irish whiskey the night before. According to this story, Arthur decided that he would produce a much less alcoholic drink that would be much more difficult to get drunk on – hence the birth of Guinness. Arthur actually started by brewing ales, following in his father's footsteps. His father, as land steward for the Archbishop of Cashel, was responsible for brewing beer for the workers on the estate. After he'd been going for a while, a black beer, called porter, brewed in London, became popular in Dublin. Arthur decided to brew this porter himself and soon he was exporting porter to London. After 40 years of brewing he decided to focus his attention on porter, or stout, only.

Many years ago you could go into a pub and order either XXX stout, which was much stronger, or XX, but Guinness withdrew the XXX variety. Even today, you can go into most pubs in Ireland – excepte maybe the trendy ones – and order a pint of 'double.'  With no further explanation required, a pint of Guinness should soon appear. In fact, in most country pubs, just ordering a pint will produce a Guinness, unless you specifiy some other beer. Although porter, or stout, was a relatively new invention, there is mention of vats of black beer in ancient Irish legends such as The Tain – so maybe Guinness is just the latest edition of something which is really as old as the hills.