AT PUCK FAIR:ALL SORTS of mighty games are taking place on the far side of the world in China. It is the Chinese Year of the Rat. Here in Killorglin, Co Kerry it is - as it has been for hundreds of years - the Year of the Goat. You can keep the Olympics; all the real action is right here.
Yesterday was Gathering Day, self-explanatory really. In fact, the preparations have been going on for weeks, and little is left to chance.
The day began for me at Mass in Cromane, the home of the threatened mussels. The priest prayed inter alia for the Kerry team, fine weather and, interestingly enough, for a peaceful Puck. I wondered idly what that meant.
After Mass, accompanied by the Highest Authority and mandated to bring rubber boots and coat, we headed for the horse fair on the outskirts of Killorglin at Evan's Field. I know little about horses and their qualities, but they were here by the hundred and from all over Ireland; big ones, small ones, ponies, donkeys, in every colour shape and form.
It was difficult to assess the amount of trading taking place, but these worthy citizens were there for more than the good of their health. Many booths were there for the maintenance of body and soul, including one known as the Savoy Grill. It somehow looked different to the one in London, but doubtless the food was just as good.
I was accosted by a happy soul who wanted to know "was I coming or going?" The relevance of this, particularly as I was standing still, escaped me.
I endeavoured to address this problem as I am sure there was a deeper meaning, this being Kerry. He seemed to lose interest, inviting me to f*** off.
I surmised he was not a reader of " The Irish Times".
I also purchased a share in some dog running in Tralee in the near future. If it wins I was assured there would be a cheque in the post. I also noticed that for some extraordinary reason our good friends the Revenue Commissioners did not seem to have a stall. They would be a big hit at Puck Fair.
I couldn't stand around looking at horses all day. Six o'clock brought the procession and crowning and enthronement of King Puck the 400th (or thereabouts). Queen Aoife Johnson addressed her subjects and the fun began in earnest. With the sanction of the Highest Authority, I even had a pint or two.
Meanwhile, our white King Puck on his lofty throne ate his succulent meal of Mountain Ash in a smog-free environment. Eat your heart out Beijing.
Maurice Neligan's Puck Fair Diary continues tomorrow
KING PUCK
EVEN THE goat was forced to put on a brave face yesterday at the traditional opening of the three-day Puck Fair in Killorglin, Co Kerry. This year's goat is named King Ray, but what most people waited and hoped for yesterday was a ray of sunshine.
Yesterday's downpours meant the traditional horse fair, begun in the early morning in a field outside the town, was like a "quagmire" in the words of one local.
Galway jeweller Irene Moloney, a regular visitor to Puck whose stall specialises in amber, coral and turquoise, said it simply wasn't working for her this year.
The truth was the gathering day was "a wash-out", she said. "I am doing my best to make it cosy and effortless but it's not working," a near despondent Moloney said as another downpour struck.
Today will see a traditional cattle fair. Several bands will take to the stage beneath the goat over the course of the fair. The festival closes on Tuesday at midnight. Anne Lucey