So
I said before that it started with Inishmacsaint.
Previously I told the story of how I developed a bit
of a fascination with Inishmacsaint beer from Fermanagh. I initially became engrossed with finding out
about the name and history of Inishmacsaint island - and
this developed into thinking about travelling there to have a photo taken with
the beer bottle in front of the Inishmacsaint sign and cross. I detailed how I visited other areas closer to my home
in Carrickfergus to have photos with beers such as Hilden Halt at the Hilden Ballyblack Road
Well
as Lieutenant George exclaimed on Blackadder Goes Forth “Cover me in eggs and
flour and bake me for 40 minutes!” – I only managed to get to Inishmacsaint
island folks! Calm yourself, I know
you’re all aghast yet slightly intrigued.
Or maybe not, but I’ll tell you my story of white shorts, mud,
high-heels and piggy-backs anyway. Ah,
interested now?
Eight
miles from Enniskillen, Inishmacsaint island sits in Lower Lough Erne and can
be reached by travelling just past Lough Erne Golf Resort. Once off the road, access to the island is by
foot via a bridge. The last time I had
intent to pass this way, I made sure a bottle of this hazy delight was firmly
secured in the back of the car and so my wife and I headed off on a gloriously
sunny day to County Fermanagh
After
a couple of hours driving we pulled up in a car park beside the island and
started to make the 2 minute walk to the bridge when – BANG! In front of us were the largest puddles
you’ve ever seen. Did I mention there
was a monsoon the previous day? Did I
mention I was donning white shorts? Did I mention Gillian was wearing
heels? Ah, right.
Nevertheless,
let’s do this. There’s a grassy bank to
the side and she can jump on my back.
Forget the fact there are two men digging in the car park who are bound
to wet themselves laughing at us.
Well
what a sight we must have been, like some sort of piggy-backing half-wits just
let out of the asylum, we intrepidly made our way through muddy puddles (for
parents who are subjected to Peppa Pig there’s an obvious joke in there) to
reach the bridge, only to be met with similar nastiness on the other side. Argh!
Whose idea was it to wear white shorts and trainers and not bring
wellies?
Anyway,
we eventually reached the elusive 6th century Inishmacsaint
monastic ruin and were slightly in awe of the 12th century high
cross, thinking of the history of the island and what life must have been like
all those hundreds of years ago.
Thinking over, we scrambled to a decent photo spot with bottle in
hand. Can you imagine if we had reached
the island after all that kerfuffle only to realise that we’d left the bottle
in the car? ‘Murder on Inishmacsaint’
sounds like a great novel title doesn’t it?
Feeling
accomplished, relieved and reflective we headed back down the hill towards the
bridge (again with Gillian on my back – remember the heels?) and guess what –
the huge muddy puddles hadn’t gone away.
“Drat” I said, or maybe something a bit stronger. And so the return journey was much the same
as the outward journey – namely Gillian on my back, me getting bogged down in,
er, a bog and both of us laughing hysterically at the whole thing.
Alas
the white/brown trainers didn’t make it much further. Once we got back to the
car they were binned and we both still felt like kids giggling
uncontrollably. Memories are made of
those days!
Next
time you’re passing down Fermanagh way (or if you’re already there), take a wee
trip along the main Enniskillen to Belleek road and near the Lough Erne Golf
Resort take the small side road marked ‘Camagh Bay Jetty and Slipway’ –
strangely there’s no indication for Inishmacsaint from the main road. Ideally go just after a rainstorm (ahem) and
indulge yourself in the calm and tranquillity of the island – let’s hope there
are no guffawing idiots nearby. And have
a pint of Fermanagh beer later that evening.
Cheers!
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