PORTUMNA

After learning of the possibility of apartment in the town of Portumna, Co. Galway, I started to research the area. The views online of the burg itself were not especially flattering, just a crossroads of a town with two-storied storefronts on the main drag in different shades of pastels. What was an eye-catcher, though, was Portumna’s location. Situated in the southeast corner of the county, it is separated from Tipperary on the east by the Shannon River which enjoins Lough Derg at this point. The Lough (lake) expands around the southern part of town and reaches 24 miles southward, bordered on the south and west by Co. Clare.

Between the town and the Lough there is the 1500-acre Forest Park. This was an extra-special discovery, as Ireland is not known for its forests. Of all the countries in Europe, only Malta and the Netherlands have less forest land than Ireland. Only 11% of the island has forest coverage, whereas Finland has a whopping 66%. I have always had an affinity with trees and forests, and over the last six years I had spent most of the daylight hours walking in their shadows in Central Park in New York giving walking tours, so learning of these grounds twice the size of Central Park being so nearby was a great selling point, not that I needed one. My criteria for a flat at this point was only that it have a roof and some sort of view.

Well, that’s pretty much what I got. The apartment could only be described as a quasi-Motel 6, for my North American readers, a two-room flat on the ground floor of a two-story building. My unit is smack-dab in the middle, so my view out kitchen window in the front is of the stairs leading up to the second floor. In this room, along with the kitchen is the living room and dining room. It is also a black hole, in that the building runs on an east-west axis, so no direct sunlight ever enters. The only time it’s truly lit is when someone’s car pulls up at night in the space directly in front of the stairs and shines through the steps. The equally-sized other half of the unit houses the bedroom and bathroom. In the bathroom, it is as if mgmt decided to double up on the wattage to make up for the poor lighting in kitchen/living/dining room. The brightness in the bathroom could stop a prison break. This room is separated from the community mailbox (where tenants often gather to converse) by only six feet and a large, smoked-glass window. As I can hear and see them when showering, I assume the X-ray-like lighting inside offers an even greater view of me showering, so I tend now to shower without the lights on.

The highlights of the flat, though, are the rear patios. Both rooms have an 11 x 7 ft deck with a lovely lawn that runs right up to Forest Park. I am only feet away from jumping the fence and onto one of the many pedestrian and bike trails that run throughout the park. I have decorated the living room patio with plants and a rocking chair, and in the lawn I’ve placed a multi-dished bird feeder where I regularly see robins, wrens, chaffinch, blackbirds, song thrushes, sparrows, blue tits, and great tits. Their songs are lovely to listen to, but a little birdie seems to have told all the rest there’s a new benefactor in town, and my indulgence is starting to cost more than a euro or two a day.

The town of Portumna has a population of just under 1700, but most of the amenities needed to get by can be found here. We have a couple of supermarkets, a butcher shop, a hardware store, a few coffee shops and cafes, two pharmacies, three doctors and, surprisingly, only three pubs. By Irish standards, this would be considered a dry town. When I lived in Ireland as child, our town of Ballyhaunis in Mayo ( pop. 1000) had 44 places you could get a pint. There are a couple of closed pubs bearing the family name in faded paint here, but for whatever reason, this isn’t the town you roll into on a Saturday night to do a crawl. It is a 10 to 6 kind of work place, and the silence in the evening is all-encompassing.

It has been a learning curve as to how much of myself to share with those I meet here in Portumna. This is about as different a place on earth from NYC as one could find; in New York you can get lost in the mass of humanity from one block to the next, but here everyone knows everyone else, so first impressions are lasting impressions, and are probably shared with others if only because of the novelty of having a new person in town. I picture the townsfolk sitting in the town hall sharing what they’ve learned about me, and putting me together like a jigsaw puzzle. I might be a bit paranoid, as many of the folks are nothing but mindful and pleasant, asking nothing of or about me, but that’s not always the case.

Early on in my stay, I was in search of a pie or cake to take to my sister’s for our Easter gathering, so I went into a cafe here in Portumna. In the display case was a lovely, whole Banofee pie (banana and toffee). I asked the proprietor if he’d sell it to me whole. He said, “No, shur I can’t do that, but if ya go across the street there to that cottage and knock on the side door, ya might find the woman who made this. Shur, she makes all these fine pastries.”

As directed, I crossed the street and knocked on the side screen door, peering in to see a small-sized industrial kitchen with the stainless steel table in the center. All of a sudden, from around the corner, there appeared a big toothy grin just inches from my face.

“Hello! How are ye? Grand, I hope! C’mon in! How can I help ye?”

This, of course, was the maker of the fine pastries.

“And isn’t it frightful weather we’re havin’? Jayzuz, I can’t remember such a spell o’ rain? And where’s yer jacket? Ye can’t be goin’ about the town dressed so, without bein’ drenched. Do ya want me to lend ya one?”

Note that I haven’t said a word yet, and this woman is offering me her wardrobe.

“So what brings ya to me kitchen door?”

“I was told you make the best–“

“Wait, now. I’m detecting an accent. Mmm, Canadian maybe,or American?”

“Well, I’m technically both, but what you’re hearing is all Yank. I stopped in–“

“So do you live here, now”

“Umm, yes, for a while anyway, but I was hoping that you–“.

“And where are ye staying? Are you the fella that’s rentin’ Seamus Dooley’s place out past the workhouse?”

“Uh,..no. I’m staying in the Shannon Arms apartments across from Aldis. But the reason I stopped in–“

I dont mean to be nosey, but are those flats dear? Is it a 1-bedroom or two that you’re renting?”

“… Two, er, no, 1. I have a one-bedroom apartment. But, Ronan across at the cafe says you make the finest–“

“Again, I don’t mean to be nosey, but shur, what are ye payin’ fer that 1-bedroom”

This went on for 10 more minutes before I was able to get down to the reason for my visit. It can be exasperating on occasion, these conversations and inquisitions, but they are always conducted with smiles, along with conspiratorial nods and winks.

And when it was all said and done, the finest pear, strawberry and raspberry gateaux was made and delivered to my flat because she didnt think I had the sense to be walking around town without a jacket in such weather.

My barber seems a bit bitten and bitter of the loose talk in town, and told me, “Tell no about yerself here. Shur, they’re all gossips.” During one cut, I was goin’ on about how much I enjoyed my new doctor, Dr. Fahey, and she stopped mid-cut to throw a conspiratorial nod towards the fella reading the newspaper behind me, and whispered down, “Shh, now. He goes to the same doctor.” And I was complimenting the man! The doctor himself told me to lose my hats, I was standing out too much! I do wear hats all the time, but they are functional, since no weather, rain or shine, is good for a bald pate. I am learning the Irish are great for giving advice, solicited or not. 

Americans cannot own a car here without insurance, and you can’t get insurance without an Irish drivers license. The kicker is you can’t swap your American license for an Irish one without taking at least six driving classes (at 80 euros per class) and then waiting six months to apply for your license. I have decided, for the time being, to forego the hassle and take advantage of the town and surrounding areas by bike and kayak. The bicycle I purchased is a mountain bike for the bumpy back roads and off-trail paths in the park, and allows me to travel near and far. On one of my first outings in the park I found the fabulous ruins of a 13th century Cistercian friary and the Portumna Castle with its amazing herb and flower garden. It was at the friary in the 17th century that the great Irish patriot, Patrick Sarsfield, married Honora De Burgo, she of one of the 12 families of Galway.

The kayak I ordered is a sit-on and it allows me to explore the huge body of water just a below the castle. I joined the Portumna Anglers association to have a place to dock it, and have been out on the water regularly the last couple of weeks discovering new water birds as well as exploring some of its hundreds of islands. Every day there is a new adventure or experience either inside the town limits or out on its roads and waters, and it’s a privilege at my age to have so many new experiences daily. I am grateful to have this time and place.