The Real Ireland

AN August night in the sea-scented village of Kinvara finds us at Connolly’s, a pub so permanent that if some codger were to tell you it was here before Galway Bay, lapping now just outside the door, you’d nod and buy him a pint. My wife and I are hunched at a small table with friends when a smiling woman in a peasant skirt sits beside us, carrying a perfectly appropriate accessory in this corner of Ireland — a button accordion.


She is Mary Staunton, a musician known throughout the Irish west. When the inevitable call goes out, she obliges, her fingers skipping across the buttons like children playing frantic but sure-footed hopscotch. Then a white-haired man mentions an old song from his childhood. Does she know it? Why yes, she does, and when her fingers finish their dance, leaving the man smiling, there suddenly rises from across the room the hesitant but clear voice of a young woman who has summoned the nerve to sing. (“And I said let grief be a fallen leaf/At the dawning of the day.”) As she sings, all talking stops: an entire pub, transported. And I think to myself, now this would never happen where I’m from.

Was this the real Ireland? Or was it a rare dash of magic, sprinkled into Connolly’s to validate an antiquated sense of Ireland — a sense rooted in the days when economic inequity between two countries allowed American tourists to spend as though Ireland were one sprawling duty-free shop? Though the country is now experiencing some economic uneasiness, you still cannot help but think: How times have changed.

Over the years, I have spent a lot of time in the western counties of Galway and Clare, and if nothing else, this is what I have gleaned: Ireland can be that place you missed as you traveled around Ireland, looking for Ireland.

Yes, you can find a thatched cottage here and there, if you try. Yes, you may even encounter a white clot of sheep blocking your rented car’s path, raising from musty memory some postcard caption about Irish Rush Hour. But to wander about, looking to bag with a digital camera some approximation of a time-faded Irish postcard, is to miss the complexities of a country that is thoroughly enjoying its wealth and adapting to its European Union membership while at the same time trying to preserve its dreamlike landscape and proud cultural heritage.

You may indeed hear a young Irish woman suddenly break into song in Kinvara. But you may also walk around the corner and be served dinner by a young man with an Eastern European accent instead of a brogue. Travel 10 miles up the road to Gort and you might wade into a celebration of Brazilian culture, staged by a transplanted community that is now an integral part of that old market town.

There you have it: delightful, post-millennial Ireland.

Well versed by now in the lesson that to search for Ireland is to miss it, my family and I once again settled into a self-catered apartment in Kinvara, a village cleaved to Galway Bay near the Clare-Galway border. A generation ago, even a decade ago, you might have called it an unhurried place; now Kinvara captures the transformation of Ireland in so many ways.

The village has a few narrow streets, some shops and pubs, and a stone-walled pier more than 200 years old, from which the distant lights of Galway City can be seen at night and the inhalations and exhalations of the sea can be measured. Across from the pier there looms Dunguaire Castle, which for nearly five centuries has stood on grounds near the ancient fort of Guaire, seventh-century King of Connaught.

The castle’s topmost open windows offer a panoramic view of a Kinvara in flux. Much of the surrounding farmland is being subdivided for new homes, some of them being offered for the equivalent of $1 million and more; they appeal to young professionals looking for an easy commute into Galway, and to affluent Dubliners seeking a second-home getaway. It all leaves one wondering whether the village’s aesthetics are at risk; whether these new developments, and the taxing of the fragile infrastructure they represent, will make Kinvara less — Kinvara-like.

But for now, Kinvara presents curious juxtapositions of the old and the new. Here, for example, an inviting place called the Burren Beo Café occupies an old stone storefront where wireless access is available and where tombstones from a long-gone churchyard adorn the patio. You can sip your caffè latte and imagine the life led by one Bryan Daly, who departed this life at the age of 33, in 1816, and whose headstone lies flat at your feet.

THOUGH Kinvara is perfectly situated for day trips to other points of the Irish west, I often struggle with whether to stay or to go, lulled as I am by the mundane daily rhythms of a village I have come to know in all seasons.

In the mornings, I watch the same white-bearded fisherman — said to be Kinvara’s last — park his old black bicycle by the pier, row a skiff to his rusty-green vessel, and disappear into the bay. Sometime later I see him rowing back to shore, where he mounts his bicycle and vanishes down a narrow lane, leaving me to wonder whether I had actually seen him or simply imagined him.

Irish Government injects money

DUBLIN (Reuters) - Ireland's government plans to inject 8 billion euros ($10.3 billion) into the country's top two banks and is in talks to underwrite some of the lenders' potential bad debts, a source close to the talks said on Monday.

The recapitalization plan, which is set to be unveiled later this week, doubles the amount Dublin had originally said it would invest in Allied Irish Banks (AIB) (ALBK.I) and Bank of Ireland (BKIR.I).

"There is a small bit of tinkering yet to be done," said the source, who declined to be named because of the sensitivity of the talks.

The finance ministry, AIB and Bank of Ireland all declined to comment.

The source said the government wanted to divide the 8 billion euros equally between the two banks but AIB, which has previously signaled a weak appetite for state funding, is reluctant to accept 4 billion euros.

In December, the government said it would invest 2 billion euros in each of AIB and Bank of Ireland via preference shares, giving Dublin 25 percent voting rights over "key issues."

It also said it would underwrite their plans to raise an additional 1 billion euros each.

With the new plan, it was not clear what the breakdown will be between preference shares and ordinary shares.

Investors, rattled by the nationalization last month of No. 3 lender Anglo Irish Bank, welcomed the prospect of an enlarged capital injection but they were anxious to see the cost of the plan to the banks and the potential dilution effect.

"It's better than a rights issue or being nationalized, it's the best option that could be expected," said one Dublin-based trader.

Shares in AIB rose over 6 percent to 1.3 euros but Bank of Ireland remained in the red, down 1.54 percent at 64 euro cents.

PIVOTAL DECISIONS

The credit crisis and the bursting of its property bubble ended Ireland's 'Celtic Tiger' boom last year, blowing a hole in public finances and burdening banks with rising debt losses.

The government is trying to squeeze 2 billion euros in public spending cuts in talks with unions and employer groups this week and Prime Minister Brian Cowen has set a deadline of Tuesday to seal a deal.

Goodbody Stockbrokers said that while quick government help for the banks was welcome, it was even more urgent for the government to strike a convincing deal on cutting the ballooning budget deficit. "The market will firstly need to gain comfort regarding whether the sovereign itself is making inroads in addressing its deteriorating fiscal position," Goodbody analyst Eamonn Hughes said.

Moody's credit rating agency warned Ireland on Friday it was in danger of losing its prized AAA sovereign debt rating, echoing a similar warning from Standard & Poor's last month.

Both agencies cited the potential risk from the Irish government's exposure to the banking sector and its buckling public finances as the recession deepens.

"It would not be an overstatement to suggest that decisions made over the next few days in Ireland will play a pivotal role in the trajectory of the Irish economy for years to come," said Goodbody Chief Economist Dermot O'Leary.

($1=.7783 Euro)