Mammy’s days are looking after baby
THE sun was setting on t he beautif ul Blue Flag beach of Inchydoney when we finally reached our destination. Myself, my mum and my 14-month old daughter, Lana-Rose, had begun our journey at about 11am from Greystones, Co. Wicklow, but when travelling with little ones, the best-laid plans often remain at home.
Between nappy changes, lunch and coffee pit stops, our journey to this scenic pocket of the country had lengthened substantially. But breathing in the crisp air, surveying the swathe of golden sand stretching for miles and the great big blueness of the Atlantic, and as I had envisaged – the trek had been worth it.
This nook in West Cork has something special, and I was pleased to discover that the magic was still there. The three-generational visit was timely – a pre-Mother’s Day treat, and as chance would have it there was plenty of mothering afoot. Lana-Rose, usually a calm little soul, was battling a nasty viral infection, and it quickly became apparent that she did not share the same enthusiasm for R’n’R as her mum or granny.
No sir, there was exploring to be done, and she got to it within seconds, clambering upon a beautiful, sinuous Joseph Walsh rocking chair in the foyer, all sticky hands and runny nose.
Her new-found skill of climbing was something, in fact, she enjoyed throughout the hotel. Initially this terrified me, although her safety wasn’t at risk. I was praying that the beautiful art and handmade furniture by local artists and craftspeople, were not going to end up like her much-adored but ill-fated bunny – mauled, missing an ear and sticky with drool.
Not that anyone batted an eye, and in fact she was in good company. The smaller residents were quite content in their surroundings, exploring and playing. I realised this is the kind of place that acknowledges that parents need a break too. Inchydoney is most definitely a child-friendly hotel (they even use Henry Hoovers to clean the rooms), but it also happens to be tasteful, not fussy and aesthetically pleasing, with a focus on luxury and comfort with super-soft beds.
Menus are full of locally sourced ingredients too. That night we dined in the Gulfstream Restaurant, which is brimming with coastal chic.
Now dining with a toddler is difficult at the best of times, but add illness to the mix and it’s nigh on impossible. We optimistically ordered starters and mains, but before the bread had even arrived at the table baby had decided that dinner was going to be a problem. The only time she opened her mouth was to voice her displeasure at being in the baby seat – but we managed to wolf some salty oysters and a delicate seafood assiette between us. Then we staggered our mains – Mum had Union Hall monkfish and potato purée, and I had beef fillet with West Coast clams on the side, which were both lovely, even when eaten in a hurry.
The 67 bedrooms all have ocean views from their private balconies or terraces.
The next morning, I eagerly opened the heavy curtains, hoping for some rays akin to the previous evening. But alas, the weather seemed to be in sync with baby’s unusually cranky temperament.
After a hearty breakfast with lashings of tea, toast, bacon and eggs – and of course peppery Clonakilty pudding, we attempted to brace the elements.
On a day when the weather is behaving, there’s endless activities to enjoy. An invigorating walk along that stunning beach has to be top of your list however, and some guests even pack a picnic, borrow kites or book a private surfing lesson at the Inchydoney Surf School. Neighbouring Clonakilty is a quaint, charming village with lots of stores and eateries, and families may be interested in visiting the Model Railway Village, which portrays 1940s life in the area. We were, but it is mostly outdoor, and as the rain continued to spill, we retreated back to the cosy confines of our hotel.
There’s lots to do indoors too – but taking it easy when I could was my priority. So we settled ourselves in the Lounge – a spacious and comfortable room set on the third floor, with an open fire and shelves full of good books. Here, daily afternoon tea is served, and it’s a rustic affair, with steaming brews of Barry’s Tea on the side. We complemented ours with chilled glasses of Prosecco – well, we were celebrating. Baby was asleep, leaving us to lunch in peace.
Later that afternoon, it was time to check out the thalassotherapy seawater spa, where therapeutic seawater from the Atlantic is pumped into the saltwater pool daily and heated to 31C. This vital fact, however, seemed to have escaped Lana-Rose, who was distinctly unimpressed by the whole experience. Her little feet had not quite skimmed the water before the histrionics began – the only saltwater this poor mite experienced were the huge tears running down her face. We would have to hold off on her first swim for another time.
My visit to the Island Spa was a lot more successful, and I enjoyed a marine body scrub which left my skin buttery soft, while mum indulged in a milk and honey bath. The ocean view relaxation area is a real haven, and I drifted off peacefully before heading to the Children’s Room. Here, baby was much happier, digging through a treasure chest of toys and games. Smiles at last!
Hoping for a more successful culinary experience that night, we crossed our fingers and went to Dunes Pub & Bistro for a more informal meal. We ordered a slate of tempura cod and chips, so mouth wateringly good, even poorly baby couldn’t resist, milling the succulent fish cased in its feather-light batter with gusto.
We’ll return, and this time, baby will be in top form - but even if she’s not, we’ll deal with it. That’s what mammies do.