Galway Churl
Because hookers are legal. Because there are stone walls and the grass is green. Because you’re positively encouraged to be shcuttered, fluthered, or just plain dhrunk (extra h’s mandatory). Or because it was my mate Nelly’s thirtieth birthday and I was required by ancient pact and bond to be there for her. For whatever reason, for whatever riddle, I was in Galway on Saturday night – home, and bowing under the weight of it.
Not that that is entirely fair; there’s nothing wrong with Galway that living in Cork doesn’t fix. And though I’d never admit it to my mother (who doesn’t read this blog, because it’s not printed on a nice, flammable Irish Independent), I do have a great, reluctant love for Galway. It’s where I was bred, buttered, and twisted beyond anything a medieval rack could straighten out. It’s where I learned to swear, disregard warnings about funny mushrooms, and tie the dreadlocks of oblivious hippies to temporary fencing in Eyre Square. Me and Galway is like … like Stockholm Syndrome, without the Stockholm.
I’m quite extreme in my grumbling about Galway, though. You’d be hard pressed to find a Galwegian who isn’t ridiculously happy to be from Galway, and I’d imagine you can apply this to the natives of any county in Ireland … so long as there’s a catchy song to hammer home the connection to the earth beneath their wellies.
Because here’s the thing ; the only time you ever see a Galwegian’s grá for Galway is when drink’s been drunk, whoops have been hollered, and there’s a man with a guitar bellowing “Galway Girl” or the “Fields of Athenry” into a pub microphone at a decibel level that would intimidate Tarzan. “Galway Girl” is the current caterwaul of choice for the discerning Tribesman/Tribeswoman. A song bulldozed into the Irish psyche by a fucking Bulmers ad, the veins in my neck clog just thinking about it, yet this weekend made me realise how isolated I am in my impatience for Hibern-Country yodelling. “Galway Girl” is beyond popular in Galway, and it astounds me. You’d think they’d be fed up of it! But no … and I can’t even say that it endures, because that would imply that “Galway Girl” is part of a comforting backing track, as opposed to a blaring, constant squall over the entire county, I was in two pubs on Saturday night, and I heard three different renditions of the fucking thing. It’s enough to make you offer your ears to the comforting kiss of a combine harvester.
So yes. One bar of Galway Girl / The Fields of Athenry / The Joyce County Ceili Band / N17 is enough to have every soul in a Galway pub on their feet (whether clad in Louboutins or brogues or plain old wiry hair) and jiving around the three available inches of floor with their hands all over each other’s arses. I’d invite you to come see it, if I didn’t so strongly suspect this happens in every county with their own anthem. I know Cork people get maudlin to “The Banks”, but I don’t count Corkonians because they’d get maudlin to a dose of Ecstasy and an enthusiastic tickling – so tell me. Do you Dubs froth at the mouth for “Molly Malone”? Do the boys in Southill hold hands for “Limerick, You’re a Lady?”
And what the fuck do you do if you’re from Roscommon?
Thankfully as a south side dub, the moderate kind, i have no sense of irish or city pride what-so-ever. The language is a difficult tongue twitster i failed at mimicking at school. The songs are a incomprehensable drawl of slurred shouts and national pride that i just don’t get. And don’t get me started on the north, ie i don’t care. They’re irish, but they’re british, who cares! They can keep their shopping centre’s and dire sit-i-ation and i’ll keep my bland featureless acent and indifference to my nation’s much hyped culture.
Hell i don’t even drink! I even call myself “Norman” because of my slightly bright hair.
The only true irish are those with liver’s of steel, jet black curly hair and skin so white they put chalk to shame. The rest of us are basterdised mongrel’s who would rather speak an invader’s language and eat pasta over stew. Or is that just the southside…
Oh and these days i live in Louth, but it’s just the OTHER Kildare in terms of Dublin, just a commuter housing estate.
You know, I had to look up Galway on Wikipedia, as the husband’s a recovering Prod from Norn Iron, and I’m not too up on the whole themuns in ta South thing, amazingly enough.
I was stunned. I live in a city that’s twice that size, in terms of population, and the only thing my area of Southern California is known for is people outside of here taking the piss out of it, and the people who live here wanting to get out. You can include me in that category, how sad is it that I live in Southern California and am looking forward to moving to Northern Ireland next year?
So, good on you for having some civic pride. Wish I could, too.
Galway will always hold dear memories, if only for the poteen and the paint tin (only £15 a gallon) that the blessed security guard fae Woolies sold to me in an alleyway next to the butchers, which was far too small to even take a crafty pish in by the way.
I noticed that your average Galwegian is prouder than most, especially when it comes to explaining the complicated pedestrian running tracks down by the waterfront.
“Get out of the way you big bollix!”
Very grand indeed, but sadly of little use to an ageing giant with sore knees, and a penchant for a wee drap of the oul’hair of the dog’ first thing of a morn.
As for the delightful Roscommon question that you posed… The answer is that you move your family away to Glesga, far fae the sea and the craic, but within a spit and a fart fae the airport should I get maudlin..
Holy christ.. I’ll be whistling the “Fields” for the rest of the day, with a certain amount of pride I might add.
….oh baby, let the freebords fluh-aye
Ha, you do not know when you are well off. I’m Galway and Tipperary, so add Slievenamon, Kilcash and a few others to the scuttered catterwalling. And if you think you do not know Kilcash, you do, and in Irish.
Cad a dhéanfaimid feasta gan adhmad,
Tá deireadh na gcoillte ar lár.
cheers
Vince
Social Dullard, I take offense to the notion that you have a bland, featureless accent. The southside Dub accent is the most grating, nasal, awful accent in the world. I’d rather listen to a cover version of Maniac 2000, chanted entirely by people from Monaghan, and spun backwards.
Yes, I base this entirely on Noirin from Big Brother! What about it?
Sparrow, we’re very optimistic in Ireland. We don’t have space in such a small country for one proper city, let alone the healthy smattering we’ve cultivated. I suppose it’s all relative. We heard somewhere that all independant states have at least ten cities, and we’ll get there. By God, we’ll get there. Ennis, you’re next!
Jimmy, do you really think the average Galwegian is prouder than most? Hmm. I’m both preturbed, and proud to be prouder than most. That’s logic for ya!
Vince, will you hum it? I’m lost.
Love Slievenamon, though. Now that’s a wailer, that one.
Yep, C J Kickham knew his nuts when he came up with Slievenamon.
And while I’m on, since when did your lot become tribesmen, never mind women.
The Galway Girl is a rip-off of the far older ‘Leitrim Girl’, written by the late, great Blind Tommy O’Shaughensy (who had 20/20 vision, but did have a hair lip. Hair Lip Tommy O’Shaughensy didn’t have the same ring).
Leitrim Girl was far darker than its Western counterfeit. Such lyrics as…
‘…coz her hair was gone, and her eyes black and blue’
…gives you a flavour for the morose tone of the ballad.
Since Cromwell, Vince. I think he’s dead now, though.
Flann, isn’t Leitrim Girl enjoying a bit of a comeback, in so far as anything from Leitrim could be enjoying anything? I heard it on RTE’s latest “Drunken Girl Street Brawling Awareness” radio campaign. A bit Leitrimist, I thought at first, but then again any publicity is good publicity, and, as they said in The Life of Brian, “I’m glad they’re getting something, coz they’ve had a hell of a time”.
As for the actual song, they can have it back. As soon as ever possible would be too fucking late, in my opinion.
‘The Green Glens of Antrim’ does absolutely nothing for me. However ‘Bonny Kellswater’ pricks my eye a little. It’s a dirge so there’s no dancing.
I don’t think I’ve ever been in Roscommon…
Being a full on Antrim Nordie our songs include ‘Alternative Ulster’ by Stiff Little Fingers or ‘Zombie’ by The Cranberries. During the latter we all stand around in the pub screaming/singing like yer woman about how terrible the Troubles are. Credible enough songs yes but they say nothing nice about where we come from at all apart from the fact we like long, drawn out fights and the odd petrol bomb.
Ha! You went in the end – now aren’t you sorry you didn’t stay in Cork for some Banks of the Lee or whatever they’re having down there. Galway Girl drives me bonkers too, if that helps. But I’m not from Galway so I only hear it on repeat at weddings these days. Dear. God. Mundy has a fierce amount to answer for – why wasn’t he singing about Birr birds instead?
Well Sweary you have yet to experience the plethora of Southside accents. In Dublin alone there are at LEAST 10 accents. The north side one’s sort of blend into each other but there is a definite difference between Ballymun and North inner-city, or god forbid The liberties.
I on the other hand have a D-6 middle of the road accent. I can’t mimic any other accent in the english language or even pull off a generic french one when speaking french.
My vocal range is fixed. As for the accent’s of dublin there are a lot. And despite popular myth the “Dort” speak is actually vary rare. Possibly only 30,000 or less people have anything similar to it. After all it’s only associated with certain sections of the coast and Dalkey.
Hell i can’t even say Colloquial!
I’ve been to Roscommon, but I’ve never been to me.
Sorry to hear that Galwaywegian. I have been to me. It was a brief visit. A head-on collision between my fiat punto and a sturdier volvo forced my head into my own anus. I ain’t never going back. Not never.
For DECADES I was of the opinion that Steve Earle was probably the coolest dood on the planet…
Then he went and inflicted “Galway Girl” on us…
BASTARD…!!!
30 fucking thousand, Social Dullard?! That’s much worse than expected. That’s like a neverending pool of potential RTE continuity announcers! I’m glad to hear you lot have classified your tones into 6 or so distinct, internal accents, but you must realise that, outside the Pale, we can only hear 2 different Dubs. Neaaaarthsyode and Sorfsoide. I have a real love for the former.
Many thanks to the Antrim contingent for their input. I feels like I knows you now. And if “Zombie” is really seen as a proper anthem, I knows to stay well away.
I’ve never been to me either, thank God. I congratulate Flann for his bravery in … er … coming clean about his interesting accident, as should you all.
But yes. Yes. Galway Girl. How shite. I’m very, very glad Fiona and Beady have validated my hatred, because once I cross the southern border from Co. Clare, I seem very much alone in my disdain for said ditty. Those responsible should be burned at the stake. And by “those responsible”, I’d like you to note that I don’t mean actual Galway Girls, who inspired the bloody thing. Because I am one. And I don’t want crisping, no I don’t.
(I did go in the end, Fiona. It’s only two hours up the road, after all, and I get to stop in that brilliant Centra in Limerick that does taytos and coffee and bespoke stir fries)
I like Galway.
Was expecting to be surrounded by that bloody song when I moved there, but didn’t come across it at all… suppose the fact I go around in such a tiny circle(250 millimeters in diameter, don’t really go around as much as rotate) may be part of it.
I’ve never been to Galway (the town of) but my heart sank last week when Wogan announced on BBC Radio 2 that he’s going to record the Fields of Athenry for this year’s ‘Children in Need’
God help us all…
I haven’t been there since Galway Girl was released but every eejit who ever heard it has forwarded it on to me. I don’t like it, it goes around in too much of a circle for me. I’ll be there in August and I thank you for the heads up on the jiving in close quarters report.
Sweary, do you really want to go back to the 70s/early 80s when the alternatives were the maudlin Galway Bay or holy hell, Four Roads to Glenamaddy by Big Tom. I aks ya, be careful what you wish for.
Galweigans are by far the most proud of their county, with Kerry hoors not too far behind. This fact was discussed, dissected and agreed upon whilst consuming said mushrooms in the early days of the 90s at UCG by many of us poor mucksavages. Indeed is it not why my own name is EashtGalwayWoman complete with the extra h an’all.
And Roscommon …it was The Rose of Castlerea….terrible, terrible song and the poor sheep, well…..not easy being from Roscommon.
Worse again, have you ever heard the caterwauling that is The Curragh of Kildare.
Be grateful Sweary, for cheery songs and Supermacs and Joe Canning and all that the mighty county offers. Cork??? pshaw!!! Random O’Halpins and plaintive shouts of Reb-bells!!! Would you gwan outta that!!!
You hold yer whisht is what you do, waiting for eejits from Galway and Cork to get over the notion that they can sing.
I also Loath Galway girl with a pasion. It’s one of many a song irish people belt out in their exceptionally increased National Drunkeness that they get when abroad. I had a rather unfortunate experience over a filet steak in a scotish pub in Edinburgh a few years back where a gang of very rowdy dublin girls pretended to be cultured culchies and sang off key every irish song they knew at the top of their lungs. No quantity of garlic butter could save my dinner after that yodeling.
B, you needs to get you on the rural circuit. It’d be an eye-opener, if you didn’t feel compelled to keep your eyes tightly shut for the duration.
The Fields Of Athenry is in no way as annoying as Galway Girl, queenie, as you can’t sing it with a mid-Atlantic twang. Count your blessings. Just like we thank ours every day when we wake up and realise Terry Wogan emigrated.
EashtGalwayWoman, somehow you managed to bring a tear to my eye there, and I think it was homesickness for a proper Supermacs snack box. Either that or gas. I’ll get over whichever which in a minute, I know.
Conan, Galwegians have excellent voices, as I’m sure you’ll concede when I hit you WITH THE SAWDOCTORS! AND THE STUNNING! AND YER MAN THAT WAS IN SIX! So there.
I have to say, Social-Dullard, that I don’t know anyone who knows the words to the official version of Galway Girl (I know the one about the Galway Sham and the CPs girl, though. Them’s fucking poetry). Tragically, the high density of “Ay-aye-ay-aye-ays” in Galway Girl make it quite possible to sing it even without a word of English. There was definitely evil genius at work there.