Dolphin Address 20
May 11th 2005
Far from Hawaii, but just south of Donegal Bay, the estuary of the river Moy exits into Killala Bay. The ocean has left her imprints upon the sand of the immense beach, where the waves run in in parallel rows that seem to anticipate the roundness of their destination. In high winds they look like foaming doormats celebrating their arrival, but in the quiet of the afternoon they’re more like slithering tongues licking the land. The ocean stretches the eye until the straight line of the horizon.
We have taken a few days to recover from the icy bite of the ever windy shore of Fanore in the village of Enniscrone. But it is not the outdoor of our temporary destination that gains access to a miraculous healing. Down by the waterfront the remainder of a common man’s leisure castle marks the spot where terraces in different levels march into the sea. It takes little imagination to envision people in overall bathing suits crowding the seaside, man and women in separate clusters, braving and giggling the old flirtation ploys, cooling their lust in the chilly waves. Where did the innocence of youth before our youth go after the bathing castle was closed down with mortar and bricks?
One institution that weds the sea to the shore has survived or rather is thriving on the hidden healing that the salty waters provide. It is this peculiar remedy that spread its fame all over Ireland, which we’re after. The teeth of time have been kept properly polished in the huge porcelain tubs that await the buoyant devotee. A one size fits all steam box sit initiates the session. The folding doors give leave to the head and an inside lever provides the required measure of hot vapor to its inhabitant. Then the brownish-yellow seawater, generously strewn with seaweed, gives a warm welcome. It tickles the skin and is slightly slimy to the touch. The bath temperature can be regulated by a fire fighter type tap system of hot and cold water. The see weed is rich in iodine and provides in a lush overall scrub. This is no place for those who are afraid of imaginary menace.
Soon the steam fills the room and one relaxes in a cloud. The heat pervades the body to the bone and the skin absorbs the power of the lost continent. Sometimes one has to stick out an arm or a leg to balance the body temperature and ease the pounding of the temples. A general drowsiness slowly invades body and soul and contrary to John Donne one feels an island lost to the sea. There is an optional end to this experience. One can dry the body to a luscious towel and save the residu to the flesh or pull the chain of a gigantic shower head above and stream cold seawater over the chilling body to make an instant return to reality. What ever action taken, the result is a pleasant weariness and a few hours of sleep are by no means a luxury.
Our remedy may not have been as instantaneous as we would have wished, but I feel we turned the threat of the ocean into a benevolent resource and hesitate to consider the misery that we would have suffered if we had tried to fight it on the meadow in Fanore.
Jan & Verena, ‘Ceol na Mara’ B&B, Enniscrone, May 11th 2005
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