ROVING WRITERS: From a Leinster hilltop, Kevin Myers sings the praises of Ireland's best-kept secret: land-locked, little-loved Co Carlow.
Slievebawn Hill in Carlow provides one of the most astounding views in all of Ireland - yet who sings its praises? Like so much of this part of the world, its glories are unseen and unsung, and that is one of its charms. We made our way there on a sunny Saturday, and stood alone beside the cairn on its peak. To our north and north east rose the granite escarpments of the Wicklow hills, rippling majestically all the way to Dublin. Beside us stood the shale massif of Mount Leinster, a thousand feet higher than us, and beyond spread the great serpentine spine of the Blackstairs mountains, whose tail reaches all the way towards Munster and the shimmering Comeraghs.
Beneath us lay the great green table-cloth of Carlow, Kilkenny and Kildare, a majestic landscape far vaster to the eye than mere maps can convey, a vast patchwork-plain of fields and hedgerows that spread to an almost continental infinity. It was simply breath-taking, and almost an optical illusion, for a view which reached perhaps only 30 or 40 miles seemed to be 10 times that.
One reason Carlow is not fashionable is it has no coast, unlike one neighbour, Wexford, and it has no fine city, unlike another, Kilkenny. Balladeers do not sing of their love for it, and it is associated with one just great song, Follow Me Up To Carlow, which contains the most bathetic rhyme in all of Irish balladry: "fallen has your star low". That said, this otherwise fine anthem does introduce us to the hero, Fiach McHugh, the holder of one variant of perhaps the greatest of all Carlow names.
The owner of another variant, Fiacre is a patron saint of the tender parts, allegedly curing both haemorrhoids and syphilis. Perhaps in search of business, he abandoned healthy, virtuous Carlow for France in the 7th century, where his cloacal cures were long and properly revered. A hotel named after him attracted numerous vehicles for hire, and by the 18th century they came to be called after him: hence the French for taxi, fiacre. He is honoured, too, by one of the most wonderfully-positioned churches in Ireland - St Fiaac's, just outside the delightful twin-village of Clonegall-Watch House, which is technically in Wexford, but in spirit belongs to Carlow.
The church itself is a perfect example of Protestant ecclesiastical architecture, set in a churchyard which contains gravestones going back many hundreds of years: the oldest we could read was 17th century, but weathered stone stumps around it, all inscriptions long since erased, bespoke a far greater antiquity. Did Fiacre of the pox and piles found the original church? And did it stand on an even older pagan site, chosen because it overlooked the enchanting Derry river, and in turn was overlooked by a wondrous and encircling ring of distant hills?
Carlow is a county of rivers and of stone, where water and cut-granite meet constantly in the wonderful bridges, mills and mottes that make this perhaps the most Anglo-Norman of counties. So, appropriately enough, the river Barrow provides its western march, its eastern boundary passing over the granite bulk of the Blackstairs and Mount Leinster before running along the Derreen River.
Because it remains a largely undiscovered county, its many waterways are troubled by few tourists. One can walk from the Georgian elegance of Borris, along the bank of the Mountain River through the estate of the MacMurrough Kavanaghs, to the Barrow. It was from here that the famous, almost limbless Arthur of that tribe boarded his boat which he sailed to Waterford, across the Irish Sea, around the coast of Britain, and finally up the Thames to berth outside the House of Parliament and take his seat in the Commons.
The serenity of this place remains as untroubled now as it must have been then, and the river path will take you the several glorious miles to lovely Graiguenamanagh and the majestic Duiske Abbey, and beyond. This is riparian tranquillity at its most heavenly.
But it is not the peace of the dead. I first visited Carlow town one Wednesday 25 years ago, and then by God it was dead: mid-morning, and the entire place was deserted. Most shops were closed, and nothing moved save the bundles of litter. Carlow truly represented the nation then, just as it does today. During my most recent stay, every village and town seemed to be a hive of cheerful industry, almost like a propaganda film for Dev's vision of Ireland.
Mid-morning coffee at the outdoor café in Rathwood Gardening Centre, not far from Tullow, and every member of staff was busy. I had a quite superb pavlova which would have graced a fine restaurant. Later we had an excellent lunch in The Chantry in Bunclody (which is actually Wexford): €31 for three. I would normally lunch at the splendid Lord Bagenal Inn in Leighlinbridge, which is justly famous for its good value, fine service and consistently high quality.
As for accommodation, Bobbie Smith's splendidly Victorian Lorum Old Rectory (05997-75282), on the Borris-Bagenalstown Road comes very highly recommended. Bed and breakfast is €60, a six-course dinner €38, and the cheese board is a speciality.
For those with a slightly smaller budget, the Mulvara guest house overlooking the River Barrow (Noreen and Harold Ardill: 051-424936) in the tiny hamlet of St Mullins (one pub, one ruined monastery, one round tower, one high cross, one paradise) is certainly worth investigating. Bed and breakfast €34 sharing, and dinner €30.
I really have no idea why I'm doing this. One reason I love Carlow is that almost no one knows its many glories, nor is aware of what lovely, efficient, energetic and friendly people inhabit the county. It is easily Ireland's best-kept secret, and all I can pray for now is that a last-minute failure in the printing press means this article is never read, and my wife and I will still have this wonderful county all to ourselves.
This is part two of a summer series in which Irish Times writers turn tourists in their own land.
Next week: Dr Muiris Houston fishes on Lough Corrib.
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AND WHILE YOU'RE THERE ...
Altamont Gardens (below) are 5.5 miles outside Tullow on the Bunclody Road. Keep an eye out for the Corona North Memorial Border, a herbaceous border named after the house's former owner, who left the gardens to the State; the lake dug as a 19th-century famine project; and the wonderful trees. Open: 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Mon-Thurs; 9 a.m.-3.30 p.m. Fridays; 10 a.m.-6 p.m. weekends.
The Rivers Barrow and Slaney offer excellent and on the Barrow are tow paths for opportunities (Barrowline Cruisers, www.barrowline.com), and canoeing and adventure sports (Go With the Flow River Adventures, 087-2529700).
Golfers should consult The Sunshine Circuit brochure, which gives details of 27 local courses and is available from tourist offices. Éigse, Carlow's annual arts festival, is one of Ireland's finest and is on this year on June 13th-22nd. See www.eigsecarlow.com.
By Conor Goodman