A current story I'm reading is written by an officer of the Spanish Armada who was shipwrecked in the Fifteenth Century on Kilkee beach. The town is also the crossroads to Shannon, Cork, Donegal and the coast, the playground for generations of Irish families. Small seaside towns cozy-up against grassy gorse covered rocky hills, fronted by freshly painted houses using Mediterranean colours, stare out unblinking at the Atlantic ocean which always seems grey and uninviting even on the warmest summer day. Actually, if any ladies are seeking an Irish husband, such as one of the wealthy farmers, they should visit in late September or early October every year when hundreds of Irish bachelors swarm into Lisdoonvarna for The Matchmaking Festival, many hoping to find a bride. And talking of festivals, Clare has to be the festival capital of the free world.
Weekly festivals dot the calendar like a bad case of measles.
But, Clare is also known for some awesome sights and sites. Personally, I appreciated the re-enactment of how people lived in the area 2,000 years ago. It's post-prehistoric, intellectually unvarnished and well worth the price of admission. Three thousand people live in the community which is filled with history and, true to the Irish oral tradition, stories of the region are easily elicited from any local who'll gladly unburden themselves as though it happened yesterday. Did you know that Oliver Cromwell and his Roundheads marched through Clare dispossessing the hereditary homeowners, dispensing lands and livestock to trusted lieutenants and sundry friends.