Old Galway road offered substance ahead of speed

A Different View with Dave O’Connell

It must be part of our psyche that our default position on almost everything invariably involves unhappiness – we complain forever about the rain and three days into what we laughingly call a heat wave, we’re giving out about the sun.

Same thing with traffic – it’s not that long ago that the journey time from Galway to Dublin was at least three and a half hours.

And now that it’s little more than half that on a stress-free motorway, you’d have thought we’d be thrilled – but honestly, it has to be the most boring journey on God’s green earth.

The plus side is that you know that, once you leave the Galway Clinic in your rear view mirror at this end or exit the M50 at the other, it will take you just under two hours to get from east to west or vice versa.

And yet it is only a generation ago that you’d spend two hours getting not much further than half way.

The recent All-Ireland Final disappointment was only exacerbated by the sort of painfully slow journey home that we’d thought we’d confined to history – bumper to bumper traffic almost all the way home, alleviated only by short burst of open road to allow your eyes to recover from the burning of brake lights in front of you.

It was still a shorter journey than the fastest run along the old Galway road – but it brought back memories of a time when that trip took on the proportions of a never-ending odyssey.

We all remember leaving Dublin and slowly making our way out past Maynooth which was really the end of the suburbs and the start of the drive home.

The road out of Maynooth was populated with half of Galway – or at least the entire student population of the county studying in Dublin – all with thumbs out on the stretch of road out past the seminary, hitching home for the weekend.

The furthest commuter bus from Dublin city centre took you to Maynooth – and thus this was the point at which your dependence on generous drivers began.

Hitch-hikers used to finish work or college early to get a place near the top of that turn onto the Galway road – particularly in winter so that they could avoid the doomsday scenario of being stuck in Kilbeggan after dark.

Whether you were driving or hitching, the adventure took you through small towns and villages that brought you one tick further down the road to home.

Those who travelled the route will still recall how you made a left turn after Harry’s in Kinnegad and meandered through Rochfordbridge and Tyrellespass and Moate and spent longer than Patrick Sarsfield crossing the Bridge of Athlone before sampling the delights of Hayden’s because you had to stop for something to eat as it seemed like you’d been driving for days.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.