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"The Railway Hotel"
" The Fureys "
www.youtube.com/watch?v=PoTcDKB3xg8
" We went to the room and we bolted the door,
The sound from the jukebox was coming through the floor,
And out through the walls we could still hear the roar,
Of the trains,
I wanted much more on the first night with you,
But the railway hotel was the best I could do,
I knew The Savoy would have suited you well,
But the best I could do was the railway hotel,
And though it was run down, battered and dead,
A sink and a chair and just one single bed,
The way that I felt and the things that we said,
I recall,
I wanted much more on that first night with you,
But the railway hotel was the best I could do,
I knew the Savoy would have suited you well,
But the best I could do was the railway hotel
The Old Railway Hotel "
This Rail Station has stood here since 1850 and its an old friend to me! I remember the steam trains that ran here and playing on the turntable after school where they used to manually turn the train to point back toward Dublin.
I had my poor Mams heart broken getting her to bring me to the station to watch the trains. I was about 6 and they were doing a job on the " Jubilee " tunnel which is on Bray head and 2 miles north of here and is a mile long.
The engine driver asked me if Id like to go with them for the day backwards and forward with materials for the repair! Imagine! I spent an entire day riding on the tender with them.
Its one of my dearest memories. Can you imagine HnS allowing that nowadays? Not a chance! Spoilsports!
The Jubilee tunnell is still there and most Chrismas days I walk the track and the tunnell as the trains dont run on that day. It brings back such amazing memories!
And the Railway Hotel is still there too though the name has been changed and the rooms modernised but...................
Er....... I could meet you in room 24 later if you like?
P@t
A snowy view in Levengrove Park, Dumbarton.
The Fureys - The Snows They Melt The Soonest
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZFXqplWcx4
Please right click the link and open in a new tab to view and listen. Thank you !
Rollingstone1's most interesting photos on Flickriver
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"When first I saw the love-light in your eye
I thought the world held naught but joy for me
And even though we drifted far apart
I never dream but what I dreamt of thee"
The Fureys
November 11, 2017
From an old Kodak camera and an older journey to France and the Cemetery at Aubigny- en -Artois. It is near the famous battleground of Vimy Ridge fought by four Canadian divisions and one British - a decisive victory and turning point in WWI but at a terrible cost of almost 4000 killed and 7000 wounded.
"No Man's Land" or "The Green Fields of France" is an old song written about the tragedy of war and made famous by the former traditional Irish group, Davey and the Fureys.
From WWI to the present day it seems we haven't learned much.
"How do ye do young Willie McBride
Do ye mind if I sit here down by your graveside........
Did they beat the drum slowly did they play the fife lowly,
did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
did the band play the last post and chorus,
did the pipes play the "Flowers of the Forest"
"No light in the window,
No Welcome at the door"
I came across this old place on a country road and I thought there was something very nice about it.Im certain that when it was built this area would have been just rough fields. Maybe its the thought that a happy family of children were once reared here and Im sure there was lots of love and affection there too. It has a nice feeling about it.
There are a number of Jackdaws building in the roof space and in the chimney on the right. You can see one of them perched on the capping. In some societies its believed that Jackdaws and Rooks are the spirits of those who have passed on and they appear to be great at socialising and are very attentive parents. Maybe its because seem to need one another just like we do and that makes them special. They always like to congregate around deserted buildings constantly chattering to each other in there own special language. Probably saying that the wish the eejit with the camera would feck off!!! I do like to think that they are the spirits of those who once lived here.
The words by the way, are from a old Scottish song which was recorded way back in the 50s by Fr. Sydney Mc Ewan Scottish tenor and also Count John Mc Cormick, the Irish tenor. I think the Fureys had a go at it too. There are quiet a few offerings of it on Utube.
Do hope you will like the pic as much as I do and that your weekend is truly special.
P@t.
Update; Well, Im amazed how many people seem to like this photo. I really am so inspired and grateful to you all. Im sure its helped by the bit of the write up that adds to it as well and Im easy with that too.
My mother used to sing this song when I was growing up and I suppose its special. Not so much the song air, but the words which do "destroy me " every time I think of them. Thats a good thing really as a bit of soul searching does us no harm.
"Oh lonely I wander , Through the days of my childhood,
They call back to memory, The happy days of yore,
Where have they gone now, The house stands deserted,
No light in the window, No welcome at the door "
Here`s where the children, Played games on the heather.
And here`s where they launched, Their boats on the burn.
Where are they now, Some are dead, some have wandered,
No more to this place will the children return "
" So lonely the house now, And lonely the moorland,
The children are scattered, The old folks they are gone,
Why stand I here, Like the ghosts of their shadows.
Its time I was moving, Its time I passed on "
I think its one of the most beautiful pieces of prose ever! Maybe thats because the Wicklow mountains are full of deserted cottages, mostly in ruins. They would have been the homes of the poor who died of starvation, [some of them my ancestors] or emigrated or worse during the famine in 1847-1850. 1 million died, 1 million emigrated, and one million disappeared! And the World and our "masters" stood by and let it happen! Shame on them!
But happily, time has moved on as we all must do!
Thank you all my friends, once again,
P@t.
It was wonderful to go up to Skye again before Christmas. I do miss mountains especially when there's a bit of snow. I need to steal away again. Stealaway is by The Fureys and David Arthur. The wonderful Black Cuillin ridge.
Disparada, no sé donde, por eso de los derechos de imagen.
Suena King King:
Suena Finbar Furey:
Suenan The Cactus Blossoms:
"Every Time I Think About You"
Saludos.
The Fureys & Davey Arthur - The First Leaves of Autumn
Gracias por vuestras visitas y comentarios!
Un besuco!
Fureys of Sligo have this ADL E200 for its 982 Sligo to Ballyshannon Service, it is seen leaving Ballyshannon for Sligo
Well they're not quite scarlet , but they are beautiful ribbons of cloud, so Scarlet ribbons by The Fureys and Davey Arthur is fine. A storm moving up the bristol Channel being highlighted by the setting sun was a frustrating but great sight, I just wished it wasn't as far away.
It was a. strange day yesterday, moody with occasional bursts of sunlight. I don't know why but I felt it was a day to do something with leaves. A quick wander through the woods checking the kaleidoscope of leaves at my feet and I had a pocketful of jewels. I decided to go with the sycamore, as they were bigger and hopefully easier. I always love reflections so dropped down to the river and looked for a relatively calm stretch, not easy after last night's rain. As always the leaves evolved and took me into different directions. I wanted to do a. circle, but ended up with this beautiful eye or kiss, both beautiful symbols in these times where I really miss eye contact and a. kiss with loved ones. The First Leaves of Autumn is by The Fureys and Davey Arthur. I also found out yesterday that my twin daughters have tested positive for Covid. I had a zoom meeting with them and luckily they were in good spirits with only mild symptoms.
This is a page from my Great Aunt Isabella Furey Brodbin's teaching diary dated 13-05-1916. She gave the diary to my mother and when I started working in education mother gave it to me. The Mayflower leaf was pressed in the page but the rest of the flower did not survive.
For Macro Mondays theme "Inheritance".
I took this on 14 October, 2018, in my friends’ garden, after a heavy rain shower.
It’s one hundred years, today, since the end of The Great War, the “war to end all wars”.
Old men sending young men to their deaths...
“The sun, now it shines on the green fields of France;
There’s a warm summer breeze that makes the red poppies dance.
And look how the sun shines from under the clouds.
.............There’s no gas, no barbed wire, there’s no guns firing now...
But here in this graveyard, it’s still No Man’s Land
The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand
To man’s blind indifference to his fellow man
To a whole generation that were butchered and damned.
“Ah, young Willie McBride, I can’t help wonder why,
Do those that lie here know why did they die?
And did they believe when they answered the cause,
Did they really believe that this war would end wars?
Well, the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain,
The killing and dying were all done in vain.
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Did they beat the drum slowly, did the play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the Death March, as they lowered you down?
Did the band play The Last Post in chorus?
And did the pipes play The Flowers of The Forest?”
“The Green Fields of France”
YouTube: RTÉ The Late Late Show
Finbar Furey & Christy Dignam version.
South Carrick Hills
SW Scotland
For all The Fallen, everywhere. 💙
The last posted photo of the year for me. I hope that everyone has a happy, healthy, and better in all ways 2023.
FWIW/
Ending the year with one of my favorite passages in modern literature.
" Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, further westwards, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling too upon every part of the lonely churchyard where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."
The Dead
James Joyce
191-SO-911 is a Volvo B8R/Plaxton Panther new to Furey, Drumcliffe in May 2019.
It is seen here in Belfast in EF Tours livery along with Sligo Coaches fleetnames.
I did a postcard swap with the Tim Furey nomonki.tumblr.com/post/108340696277/timfureyart-i-did-a-...
Music: Right Click and select "Open link in new tab"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_kXfg2QeB4
Sweet Liberty of Life · Finbar Furey
Mm mm... Mm mm... Mm mm...
Let the spirit of the music ease your soul
Let the rhythm take your heart where it wants to go
Feel the music and you'll hear it sing
We've got it together in freedom's name
Let peace and love always be your friend
Sweet sweet liberty, liberty of life
Lest we Forget series
The date is April 4, 1917 and the letter will be 100 years old next year. Fragile and fading it was written by a young rifleman in the Irish Fusiliers to his mother, telling her not to worry.
Five days later, on April 9, 1917, he fell in the great battle for Vimy Ridge. He is buried far from home at Aubigny- en- Artois in France, where we visited a few years ago. He was 23 years old. This young man had never left home before but he heard the call in 1915 and enlisted.
He sailed off with his companions on a great and terrible adventure and he had died in it along with so many others.
The Green Fields of France
(an old song from WW I sung by Davey and the Fureys)
"oh how do ye do young Willie McBride
Do ye mind if I sit here down by your graveside...."
Canal lock at Bowling, Scotland.
The Fureys - The Lonesome Boatman - Original Version
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmDMyTs9Gyk
Rollingstone1's most interesting photos on Flickriver
© All rights reserved. Use without permission is illegal
This is a page from my Great Aunt Isabella Furey Brodbin's teaching diary dated 13-05-1916. She gave the diary to my mother and when I started working in education mother gave it to me. The Mayflower leaf was pressed in the page but the rest of the flower did not survive.
Music: Right Click and select "Open link in new tab"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMBIseUBvVw
Finbar Furey = Blue Jewel in the Sky featuring daughter Áine Furey
A family in their beautifully decorated caravan en route to the Cahirmee Horse Fair (which we now know is held on 12 July every year) at Buttevant, Co. Cork,
Thanks to Frank Fullard for letting us know that "the fair of Cahirmee (which is now actually held in Buttevant) is still going strong and the members of the travelling community are still as much a part of it as ever." In fact, Frank took some great photos at the Fair in 2011...
The day this photo featured on the front page of the Irish Times (14th Sept 2017) marking the opening of our Photo Detectives Exhibition. A new detective Maeve Burke reports "The woman in the front is my Nanna Elizabeth "Lizzie" Furey Hanafin (niece of the late, great Ted Furey). This was taken when she was 17 and only 2 years before she got married to my Granda who cannot believe how popular this picture has become and how famous his Lizzie is! She passed away 4 years ago but I can tell you she would've loved making the front page of The Irish Times today nevermind being in an exhibition in Dublin! She'd have every copy in the country bought & be up at the exhibition herself! She was a great storyteller, a tough-cookie and well known and respected in Kerry. Her and my Granda bought a chipvan and went all over Ireland to festivals and fairs making friends wherever they went. She told me and my sister lots of stories about when she was travelling with her mother Dolly Furey, who would play the accordion for money and all the hardships they faced, especially during the cold winters in the wagon. We're lucky too that she taught my mother and us the Gammon (which would've been her first language) and passed on many great traveller traditions and crafts like crocheting, sewing, singing, lilting and storytelling. She really was an amazing woman and this is a picture our family will treasure forever. Thank you so much to everyone who commented on this, she would've been over the moon!"
Photographer: Elinor Wiltshire
Collection: Wiltshire Photographic Collection
Date: July 1954
NLI Ref.: WIL m12[54]
You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie
"A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, on the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."
James Joyce - 'The Dead'
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Fureys Coaches 192 SO 366 is seen in Sligo with a service on Local Link route 977 to Ballaghaderreen. 28/08/2021
Sailing in to Lochboisdale, Outer Hebrides, Scotland.
The Fureys- The Lonesome Boatman
www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8rULrp_J5E
Please right click the link and open in a new tab. Thank you !
Lochboisdale is the ferry terminal for the island of South Uist. The pier area has undergone a transformation as the old shop and surrounding buildings were either renovated or removed to provide new housing and commercial units for rent.
Lochboisdale Hotel, built in the late 19th century as a fishing hotel, is adjacent to the ferry terminal.
Lochboisdale has a Post Office and Police Station within walking distance of the pier. There is a Free Church of Scotland in the village although most of the inhabitants are Catholic. A Coffee Shop and Internet Cafe are situated in the Post Office in Kenneth Drive at the entrance to the village of Lochboisdale
There are free yacht moorings available in Lochboisdale. Comann Seòlaidh Loch Baghasdail is the local sailing club.
Wiki
Rollingstone1's most interesting photos on Flickriver
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Furey Wood
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Disparada en la playa de San Cristóbal.
Suena Finbar Furey:
Suenan Los Suaves con Kutxi Romero:
Saludos.
A visit to the delightful bar of Miss Furey in Moyvalley and to the O'Dea Collection today! It looks like a welcoming house and that James was a welcome guest.
As well as confirming the mapping location, BeachcomberAustralia has confirmed that we were here 6 years ago. And that our photographer had shared a glass in the same establishment 2 years prior also. I don't doubt he was there more than twice. To the extent that I wonder if he was "Mr O'Dea" or "James" (or even "Jim") to the lady behind the bar....
Photographer: James P. O'Dea
Collection:James P. O'Dea
Date: 22 June 1963
NLI Ref.: ODEA 36/64
You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie
Falling snow always reminds me of one of my favorite passages in english:
Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.
from "The Dead" by James Joyce
Anthony Furey, 23 years old. Koreatown.
Writer / Director
www.blogto.com/theatre/2008/04/the_toronto_portraits_anth...
Blues guitarist from Greenville, MS.
T-Model will be appearing in an upcoming documentary that myself and my friend Matt Furey are producing. The film is called Talkin' Bout The Blues, and we hope to have it completed by the first of 2008. We will have some clips on You Tube in the next few weeks. I hope you will check them out.