clairedavieswriter

I’ll write up today’s ride separately but for now I’d like to share a couple of stories that sum up my experience of Irish people so far. Settle in, it’ll take a minute.
My first story takes place at Pat’s Café in the small town of Castle Island. It was the first café I came to and I broke my usual rule of checking if there was anywhere else that looked better, for the simple reason that Pat was my mother’s name.

In I go, and with scarcely a hello, I start to launch straight in with ‘Do you do coffee to takeaway (because I fancy having it with my pre-purchased Lidl pastry)?’ when the young server unwittingly gives me a lesson in manners. Greeting me with a big smile she says, ‘Hello, how are ya? Isn’t it a beautiful day to be out?’
Chastened, I slow down. Once I’ve gone through the social niceties as my mother would have expected, I order my coffee, but it’s only as the server hands it over that she tells me the café doesn’t take cards.
I have no cash.
Her smile remains undimmed.
Oh, there’s no rush, just pay next time.
I explain that I’m unlikely to be back anytime soon.
Have you got Revolut? You can pay through the app
(I don’t have Revolut) Is there an ATM nearby?
For the first time her smile falters. I get the impression the ATM is quite a distance away.
Well, there’s one…
She hasn’t finished her sentence when the customer behind me, a tall burly bloke with biceps the size of my head, cuts in.
I’ll get it, he says, it’s no bother.
I’m floored.
The server’s smile returns.
After a little to and fro – that’s very kind, are you sure etc – I gratefully accept my free coffee and retreat outside, marvelling once again at the kindness of strangers, and thinking how my burly friend would have made his mother proud.

My second, shorter story took place when I joined the Limerick Greenway at a town called Abbeyfeale.

By this stage it’s 2pm and the temperature has risen to an astonishing 18 degrees.
I’m taking my customary photo of a cycling-related signboard when a sprightly-looking elderly lady appears at my elbow with a small white poodle on a lead.
Dog lady: Where are you cycling to?
Me: Rathkeale (about 35k away)
DL (unfazed by the distance): Will you be coming back?
Me (slightly mystified, but going with it): No, I’m continuing north.
DL (cryptically): Ah, you’ll be going home then.
Me: Er….
DL: Do you have water?
Me: (confirming)
DL: Good, you’ll be needing it. I think this will be one of the very best days of the year (thank God).
And with that she beetles off, chiding her little dog for dilly dallying.
For the second time in a few hours, I found myself touched by a stranger’s kindness. It seems that mothers and grandmothers were looking out for me today.