Nollaig na mBan in Mayo reminded us why all is very well in the world
MY GOOD wife and I treated ourselves to an overnight stay in one of Westport’s hotels over the Nollaig na mBan weekend. It was a delightful, lovely visit. It was as if the shackles of Christmas were finally thrown off and everybody was very relaxed.
During our evening meal we were served by a lady called Ivette, from Hungary, who said she was saving up for a trip back home in March. When I mentioned the great footballer Puskas, her eyes lit up in memory of her father and grandfather eulogising about him when she was a child.
Next stop was Matt Molloy’s pub to listen to some trad music, where we met some similar-minded Rossies from such places as Strokestown and Brideswell. The lilt and energy of the foot-tapping fiddle, flute and bodhrán was a reminder spring is around the corner and all is well in the world.
Back to the hotel bar where the craic was in full swing. Within an hour, everyone seemed to know everyone, if not by name, then by county or some other characteristic. Familiarity soon gave way to parochial slagging, with the ‘plight of the Rossie bus’ and ‘the hurling man taking over the county football team’ being thrown in my direction. Funny how some people love to get their retaliation in first.
A lady from Longford related ruefully that Christmas was weeks of planning and then all over in a few hours. Now it was time for Mná na hÉireann to let their hair down.
Next morning the same faces adorned the breakfast tables, if a little dishevelled now, but it wasn’t long before the conversations erupted again beginning with a murmur.
With coffees and teas brought to the foyer, the murmur soon became a cacophony of laughter and mirth. Children bounded across the furniture and toddlers crawled on the floors, oblivious to the staff who sidestepped them with smiles.
The patience and easy-going nature of Mayo people has always amazed me, although being a child of Mayo parents, it should not. It soon became time to take our leave and spread to the four corners. A Galway farmer brought the house down, declaring to all that as the only one present who worked for a living, he had to head for the hills. And so we did, rejuvenated and assured that the art of conversation is alive and well in this part of the world.
Brendan Cregg
Ballyhaunis, Co Roscommon