Mention the Titanic or the Lusitania and most people will make the connection with great maritime tragedies. A little research will lead to further instances where thousands have died in single instances at sea. The toll down the years is horrific. Yet I learnt today of an incident close to home which claimed the greatest loss of life in Irish waters.

RMS Leinster, making the short hop from Dun Laoghaire (then Kingstown) just to the south of Dublin to Holyhead in Wales had barely left port to enter the choppy Irish Sea. She carried 771 passengers and crew.

RMS Leinster, from the official site

A couple of weeks earlier Germany had asked President Wilson for peace terms, but its submarines still lurked in coastal waters. One of them launched three torpedoes, two of which hit, the second sending the ship quickly to the bottom. It is estimated that more than 500 were killed. Many were civilians as well as military personnel from Ireland, Britain, Canada, The US, Australia and Canada.

The sinking, from the official site

There is an excellent account of the sinking here whilst the official RMS Leinster website is at http://www.rmsleinster.com

Even casual followers of this blog will know in what regard I hold Ireland. I’m not going to list the country’s virtues here. But one would be blind not to see some of the blatant negatives. The political system is irredeemably corrupt – no one outside Irish politics will claim otherwise. Justice is haywire – people are locked up for not paying their TV licences whilst those businessmen who brought the country to its knees waltz free. Drugs use and associated gun crime is among the highest in Europe. Unemployment and emigration is rife. The Health Service is a basket case with sick people sitting on stairs waiting to be put on a trolley. The beds are taken by those for whom there aren’t enough care homes.

But wait. A good story. Good stories rarely make headlines. This post was sparked off by the remarkable Billie, an MS sufferer, blogging about confronting her mortality. Three weeks ago a dear friend of mine in Cork suffered a brain haemorrhage. She was rushed in for surgery. She well knew the possible consequences. One of the better outcomes would have been to end up like her brother who had similar surgery some years ago and who had to battle to regain a more or less normal life afterwards.

My friend was operated on in Cork University Hospital. Going into theatre she was well aware of her mortality and the possible outcomes. When she came around her first reaction were to move arms and legs and try out her voice. To her surprise and delight all appeared normal. After a week or so she was released into the care of her brother’s family, then eventually allowed home where her son keeps an eye on her.

Last night we spoke for the first time since this all happened. Her voice is strong and entirely normal. However she is constantly tired and has been told that a full recovery will take up to a year. Her teaching career is at an end, though retirement was coming up in any event.

So the story is that the Irish Health Service is still capable of performing wonders. My friend put her faith in the neurological surgeon and he came through for her – the system came through for her. Despite her tiredness and impatience to be more active she is pretty euphoric that she has dodged a bullet.

So I ought to remember – the Health Service is made up of individuals, often talented and dedicated, that are themselves victims of the infrastructure. Not every politician and judge is corrupt. The gunmen generally pot each other rather than innocents.

Those facts don’t sell papers though.

Galway City. The City of the Tribes is a 3-hour drive straight across the country from Dublin. If you want quirkiness this is the place for you. The epicentre, Eyre Square, is a virtual student encampment during the summer months. The main shopping street – Shop Street – is mad with tourists, buskers and other street entertainers. (Question – why does every busker on God’s earth think they can sing and play like Mark Knopfler?) Great medieval buildings (e.g. Lynch’s Castle and the Spanish Arch). A beautiful riverside walk past the great Cathedral up to the weir.
And, a pleasant walk away, the Salthill seafront for families, children and joggers. A lovely view of Galway Bay.

Best thing in Galway? Possibly Kashmir Indian Restaurant.

Ballina, Co. Mayo. Huh? you may ask. It doesn’t have many fans but I love this little town perched out in the wild West. Keep your overrated Westport and go to Ballina. Dominated by the fish-heavy River Moy, Ballina was the starting point for General Humbert’s ill-fated 1798 rebellion. Across the river from the town lies the posh Hotel Belleek Castle and not-so-posh Belleek Woods, a great venue for a run. In the evening enjoy a crawl through the town’s comfortable and quiet bars.

Best thing in Ballina – choose either the Woods or the pubs.

 Achill Island, Co. Mayo. Cross the little land bridge and you are in another world. Here be wildest Ireland with just a few scattered settlements to welcome the visitor. Keel, the ‘capital’ attracts the camping crowd during the season and it’s where you’ll find the ceilidh and the craic, otherwise it’s just magnificent hills and cliffs.

Best thing in Achill – the Deserted Village on the slopes of Slievemore is a chilling testament to the famine times when whole settlements were forced from their homes in search of food.

 Avoca, Co. Wicklow. From wild to rather twee. The village of Avoca was where the TV series Ballykissangel was filmed. It’s a while now but the village used to be full of TV fans gawking at the church, shop etc. featured on the telly and even having a drink in Fitzgerald’s Bar. Nearby is the Meeting of the Waters, where the Avonmore and Beg come together and made famous by Thomas Moore. Tourist attraction or not it’s a perfect place to stop and stretch your legs.

Best place in Avoca – the above-mentioned Meeting of the Waters.

 Howth, North Co. Dublin. A favourite escape for city dwellers, the picture-postcard fishing village of Howth is at the northern end of the DART line. Here is a commercial fishing harbour but also market traders of all types, especially at the weekend. One enterprising fish merchant used to offer a ‘champagne and oysters’ bar in his establishment, possibly he still does. Out in the bay lies the uninhabited Ireland’s Eye, familiar to those flying in to the city.

For those requiring more exercise the Howth Peninsula offers cliff walks and views to die for. But don’t take my word for it, read Arran Henderson’s brilliant blog post.

Best thing in Howth – the cliff walks.

Howth Harbour, in the background Ireland’s Eye

Bonus place. Lisdoonvarna, Co Clare. This is a cheat as I’ve only ever driven through. But if you are a farmer seeking a wife now the harvest is in, or a maiden seeking marriage to a man with a satisfactory number of cows, this is the place for you. And your man is matchmaker Willie Daly who has been responsible for countless marriages.

Best thing in Lisdoonvarna – it’s your turn to tell me! But before you do have a listen to Christy Moore’s great song about the place.

Farmers and maidens

Kinsale, Co.Cork. A quiet fishing village out of season it is jammers during the summer, and with good reason. Renowned for its Gourmet Festival  I can personally recommend The Spaniard for cliff top location, food and a decent pint. Top spot for boaters and anglers. For walkers, march out to the twin forts guarding the harbour – the Spanish were beaten off here in 1601. Love the old church and its cemetery.

Best thing in Kinsale – Charles Fort.

Kinsale Harbour

Dingle Peninsula, Co. Kerry. Avoid from Easter thru September when the gorgeous coastal drive becomes one long traffic jam. Off-season it is breathtaking for its seascapes and ancient landscapes, ruined castles and beehive huts. Best known as the location for David Lean’s 1970 epic film Ryan’s Daughter and you can track down many of the spots featured in the film.

Best thing on the Dingle – Kruger’s Bar, the most westerly in the British Isles and the drinking joint of choice for John Mills, Robert Mitchum, Sarah Miles & Co.

A ‘soft’ day on the Dingle

Waterford, Co. Waterford. With the demise of Waterford Crystal the tourists no longer come. The town has a charm all of its own with its long quayside and Viking Triangle featuring Reginald’s Tower. Old fashioned shopping streets complement newer retail centres. Some excellent bars with my favourite ‘old man’ pub being Jordan’s American Bar, a hark back to its emigration days. The city has been harder hit than most by the recession but it retains its spirit.

Best thing in Waterford – the Quays.

Clock Tower and the Quays

Cork City. I always know that I’ve ‘come home’ when arriving in Cork – a strange sensation as I never actually lived here. The River Lee flows in from the Irish Sea splitting the city in half. As with Dublin the more ‘desirable’ areas lie to the south but the rough-and-ready northside, around MacCurtain Street, is where I’d rather be. The city is an amazingly friendly place with inhabitants always ready for a chat. They’re mad for their sport and there is great support for the county’s hurling and Gaelic football teams. The Mardyke Arena is the best athletics venue in the country.  A great selection of bars and restaurants, and a gateway to the rest of this great county.

Best thing in Cork – the stroll down the Mardyke Walk, Fitzgerald Park and the Lee Fields.

Cork City Hall Sunset

Dunmanway, Co. Cork. Ah now, the home of my forebears lying away to the  midwest of the county. An old market town still trying to come to terms with the 21^st century, and some would say all the better for that. The Broadway Cinema, a crouched building on the way out of town, has remained unchanged for 50 years at least. Many of the bars retain the same names as when I was a child. Everybody knows everybody else’s business. The birthplace of Sam Maguire, best known for lending his name to the All-Ireland football trophy. You want a piece of old Ireland, visit Dunmanway.

Best thing in Dunmanway – The Square, now given over to cars instead of horses as in days of yore.

The Square