Yarn bombing in Portumna

So do you like the moody photo of Portumna Bridge? And what's that coloured stuff clinging to it? Can you see it. Because it's only now I've uploaded it to this blog that it's appeared. The light was all wrong so I thought I'd only captured a dark bridge. Mmm. What's the next one going to be like? Here we go.

Oh now not bad at all. This is the upriver section of the bridge where we were lurking on Winter Solstice waiting for the 5.30 opening. We'd put her in Connacht Harbour the Sunday before after I launched what you can see on the bridge. So hang on. One more pic after we went through.

And there we are. This is the result of a yarn bombing art project by textile artist Kate O'Brien, who worked with local people - net workers - to make all the separate squares of knitting and crochet that became these nets that you can just see reflected in the water. Kate's aim was to reproduce Monet's painting of pond and water lilies with all these wonderful vibrant colours. It was the beginning of the local Shorelines Arts Festival.

So I, in my new role as author, was asked to launch this exhibition. There was also to be a flotilla of boats going through the bridge as it opened at 3 pm on the Sunday, plus an aerial photo of the whole thing. Joe and I had arrived in Portumna in the camper van on Saturday after a tour of the country (it seemed) on Skipper & Her Mate business. It was warm, sunny and calm. I had a text from Margaret, one of the organisers. The forecast was atrocious for Sunday.

We went over to Terryglass where much of the flotilla was gathered. The forecast was not only for rain but for high winds. Oh no! They were to arrive in the early hours. It was still balmy and summer-like at midnight. I woke at 2. No wind or rain. Perhaps the forecast was wrong again.

Sadly not. We woke to storm. Waves raged in from the west. Not the weather for barges or other big boats. Didn't look like we'd be bringing Winter Solstice round from Castle Harbour to the bridge as planned either. And definitely no aerial photography. The venue was on the verge of being changed to indoors. What a shame.

But the weather gods were partly good to us. The sky cleared, it was mild enough, but the wind still stormed away. However, it was on the other side of the bay. We made a last-minute decision to bring the boat around the corner and tied her up below the bridge. A crowd gathered. There were musicians. Speeches - me among them. I'm getting the hang of this. It's more fun than I thought it would be. Just as well as I'm doing it again on Sunday - not opening an exhibition, but doing a reading and introduction of Skipper in Mountshannon at 12 noon in The Snug on the Main Street. It's part of the Mountshannon Trad Festival. We'll be playing a few tunes there too on Friday and Saturday.

When I went to put my coffee on the table before writing this blog there was something not quite right.

Yes yes of course you can see it straight away, but from above it wasn't so obvious. Books under the legs means Joe's been busy at the paté again. Or it might be a terrine if you're being particular. The tins of whatever-it-is have fitted timber shapes placed on top before they go under the table legs. Heavy objects on the table weigh everything down. I've written about this before, but I'm always so impressed by it that I have to tell you about it again. 

Here's the result.

Mmm yum. Nice one Joe.


And finally.


It's not only cats who have to sit on things you put down to air or dry.

Back on Derg

The new Meelick Bridge

We brought the boat to Meelick Lock (properly known as Victoria Lock after the old English queen) with a plan to cycle to Banagher to pick up the car. First I took the dogs for a walk across the car-width timber bri..... no! Wait a minute. The bridge was no longer timber but had been reconstructed from concrete. The land around was scarred and open.


There was a new sign too, on the other side of the bridge.

This type of sign makes me feel immediately guilty. I hadn't, after all, been authorised by anyone to pass this sign. Did having a boat on the jetty secure my access? Joe is quite different. To him a sign like this is a challenge.

Concrete and clearings

The dogs didn't care anyway. There are advantages to not being able to read.

This bridge crosses a section of the Shannon - the bit that doesn't rush through the weir above Victoria Lock. It looks like a broad canal here, but it is river, widened in an attempt to alleviate the regular winter floods - Meelick is in the Callows, the flood plain of the River Shannon. I don't think it was terribly successful. Such a lot of water needing somewhere to flood into.

Cloonaheenogue Canal

Onto the bikes and we followed a small backroad along the banks of the old canal for a while, though this waterway is hardly reconisable as a canal - only the straightness gives it away.

Here it is from one of the bridges that crosses into farmland.










Cloonaheenogue Canal was the original Shannon navigation built in 1755 by Thomas Omer to bypass the Keelogue rapids at Meelick. There is an old lock too, and a lock house (still lived in). You can easily get confused by the many channels of water running towards Lough Derg from Meelick.

Bonfire barbie

In Meelick we'd frozen, but had a barbecue anyway. I wore 49 layers and we kept the barbecue going with the many hedge cuttings piled beside the road that goes to the lock.













In order to easily cycle back for the car from our planned next stop at Portumna, we needed to leave the car on the western side - the roads to the east of the river were too circuitous. Meelick Quay would do the trick, a short distance upstream, so I drove there via Banagher while Joe brought the boat. Here she comes:

Winter Solstice close

Winter Solstice closer

Winter Solstice closest

Back on Derg

In Portumna the weather changed to almost balmy. About time - it is nearly June for heaven's sake. We tucked into a corner of Castle Harbour, great for walking the dogs and for counting camper vans. There were more vans than boats when we arrived. There's even a sign asking van owners not to park next to the harbour wall.

It was good to be back on Derg after a two-year absence. The views are always magnificent.