Little Egypt in Ireland: 2005

A quiet, reflective evening at Sneem

A typically gentle Little Egypt moment

 
Understated colours
OK lads, we'll take the deep end




After Bantry, we headed back to Kenmare to grab a quick meal before changing into Whites and rejoining the coach, andf heading off to Sneem.

Sneem is on the famous "Ring of Kerry". Typical of so many roadside villages, the houses are colourful, and the village quiet.

We chose to dance first outside Dan Murphy's bar on the village square. We were largely alone, although one or two locals were attracted to this curiosity, doubtless by the infectious melodies and beat of the tambourine.

So, we migrated round the corner to another typical Irish bar: petrol pump, grocery shop and bar. Beyond the bar, however, was a wonderful modern "meeting room", with extra bar space, space and arrangements for music, a sprung dancing floor, and us.

So we spent the rest of the evening here.

Musicians played; we danced; they demonstrated some set dancing.

We're nearly ready
Keep your eyes on your feet lads
 




Those of you who have not encountered the swirling sounds and rhythms of genuine western Irish set dancing (none of your "River Dance" rubbish) can only imagine the cumulative effect of the sights and sounds on minds suitably enhanced by Arthur's Best Stout.

Incidentally, if you look at the (lower right) picture, just above George the Music's head, you'll spot, vaguely, a picture of Irish hero, Michael Collins, in full uniform, hanging above the archway.
Immediately next to it hangs a rather battered and (we hope) disabled 303 rifle that looks as though it had been hidden underground for a while!

No comment made, no explanation asked.



Back to the dance.

In the shade
Anything they can do ...
 

Needless to say, we could only go with the flow. Even Tommy the Coach volunteered a wonderful ditty in keeping with the mood of the evening.
Who is this Carrie Oakey?

The evening and early morning sped by, so much so that, when the appropriate time to leave arrived, some of the side were so overcome by the music, the craic, the emotion and (doubtless) the Draught Liffey-water, that the now-famous Scream at Sneem was heard for the first (and possibly the last) time.

Saturday was still to happen

 


© Steve Clarke steve@little-egypt.org.uk 09 November 2005