EMMA CONNOLLY: Spare a thought for the off-season tourists – they could do with a warm welcome

This week, between GAA matches, our columnist was feeling a hint of sympathy for the US tourists looking a little cold and sheepish at the end of our ‘summer’. They could have done with her old sheepskin bought years ago at the Ploughing

• HAS anyone else noticed that there’s a pile of tourists around all of a sudden? There seems, to me at least, to be almost more now than there were during peak summer season.

Maybe it’s because we’ve all switched back into ‘school/get things done/oh god, how many weeks until Christmas?’ mode that they seem to stand out a bit more. Or maybe Irish kids just have a bad rep in mainland Europe and beyond as being half-feral (there may be something in that) and they’re only chancing a visit here now they know they’re safely enclosed in the classroom.

Whatever the reason, I found myself looking at groups of them with a touch of sympathy one morning this week. I was queuing at the ATM (yes, I still deal in cash) after a bus tour landed into town. They were US tourists and mainly congregating in large numbers on the ‘sidewalk’ looking a bit confused ... and cold. I had seen some of their group earlier wearing hats and gloves (it was 16C, but it’s all relative to where you’re coming from, I know), but these particular poor souls mustn’t have read the itinerary properly and were shivering, like proper teeth-chattering
shivering.

‘Let’s just go in there,’ said one lady probably my own age, pleadingly pointing to a premises across the street. ‘Why there?’ asked her partner quizzically. To be fair to him, the premises she was pointing at didn’t look particularly special. ‘I don’t know. It looks open and I’m freezing,’ she replied, a little testily too, I might add.

Off they went and I didn’t have the heart to tell them that said premises probably didn’t start serving (food or drink) for a few hours yet, and may only have opened their doors to take a delivery.

You need to be plucky enough to holiday off-season – I know, I’ve been that soldier – and you have to dig deep. It might be an idea to have a flask of tea in the car ready to hand out to any bewildered and frozen-looking tourists you stumble across over the coming weeks. Céad mile fáilte, and all the rest, like.

• Anyway, our local under-12 hurlers (Argideen Rangers) were in the West Cork hurling final on Saturday afternoon in Clonakilty. The result didn’t go our way in the end, but what struck me was how these youngsters, without even realising it, brought so much joy to their community. I’m not sure I was ever at an under-12 game in my life before, but there I was, after abandoning all my adult duties (mainly laundry), weighed down with flags, hope and pride; standing side-by-side with hopeful grannies and grandads, parents, siblings, cousins, ready to soak up the action. Like I said, the lads didn’t take the title, but they gave it their all, and in the process they gave us all a great lift – not bad for a group of lads not yet in their teens. As it happened I was at an O’Donovan Rossa U-13 football final in Skibbereen the following day (I’ve a lot of nephews!) and again it wasn’t their day, but again the same thing struck me – the great spirit of the young players, the courage and commitment involved from everyone and what it means to all the spectators. Now, admittedly in both games I had the advantage of being a little removed from the action – which I know puts a different slant on things. But still, community is a powerful thing and anything that can bring people together, including U-12 hurling matches, must be treasured. I’m not crying, you are!

• I’m not sure where that came from but obviously two games in and I’m now a GAA expert! Anyway going in a completely different direction, in case you hadn’t noticed, spider season is upon us. If you have a fear of arachnids, I genuinely feel for you – the next few weeks are going to be rough and tough because the guys I’m seeing are definitely larger than anything I’ve laid eyes on before. And so many species too, it’s insane! I am actually fine with spiders but I do have a genuine dislike, a real phobia, of smaller, crawling insects. I know they’re essential to our ecosystem and all the rest but I’ve a serious aversion to them. In fact I think I only tolerate spiders because I think they’ll gobble up the smaller dudes. For what it’s worth, apparently spiders are more attracted to rooms painted in greens and browns because they absorb more light and make the space more appealing to them. In the meantime if anyone needs a spider catcher in the greater Timoleague area, I’m happy to offer my services. In it together, etc.

• The tillage men and women were hard at work this week. The hum of machinery was almost constant and the sight of perfectly lined-up bales in fields was a joy to see. Often times when we were young, I remember we’d be out on a spin and my dad would stop up to look over a ditch in genuine appreciation of what he’d describe as a ‘grand field.’

We had no clue what he was on about and I still don’t quite get that fervent admiration of a tilled field, but driving past a ‘grand field’ the other day the memory came back for some reason and it made me smile.

• All roads led to the Ploughing Championships this week. I have yet to make the pilgrimage, despite threatening it every year. I’ve built it up so much in my mind over the years that I’m nearly afraid to ruin my fantasy at this stage (that, and the fact that it’s an awful drive, and then there’s the traffic, and the crowds).

Back to my dad ... I remember waking up the morning after he’d come back from the ploughing. It would be up there with Christmas morning, such was the anticipation of what he’d come home with. Over the years it ranged from a mini digger (that was epic) to each of us getting a brown sheepskin coat (less epic). We looked like we could be extras in Only Fools and Horses. The following year, I think he played it safe and stuck to the free biros with boots!

Now of course it’s evolved into something far more sophisticated and you can get anything from a new business idea to a new job offer, to a new football jersey. It’s bonkers but brilliant – and then there’s the ploughing!

Hopefully some of those frozen-looking tourists made their way to Ratheniska, where for once, the weather gods smiled kindly on the event. Next year I’ll definitely make it. Definitely, maybe!