Liking County Kildare
When I was planning to cycle across America, and for good measure had a plan to cycle down it, up it, and down it again while crossing it, somebody noticed that would mean an awful lot of miles in the Plains states.
On a trip the whole point of which was an awful lot of miles I didn’t see the problem with this.
-But they’re boring. They’re flat. There’s nothing to see there.
That was the standard reply from Irish people in America. So I’d then ask them:
-Have you ever cycled across the Plains states?
-No but I’ve driven across them and they’re as boring as hell
-And what colour are the small wild flowers when you’re driving at 70mph?
-But you’ll go mad; it’s too flat
-Too flat for what - have you ever cycled up a mountain?
-But you’ve never cycled on such flatness for so many miles
-I’ve been practicing
-Where?
-Kildare
And then both I and County Kildare would get scoffed at. But Kildare did its job well. And when I was in the corn of Nebraska and the milo of Kansas, it was Kildare that helped me. Because when I was in Kildare I imagined I was in America. Somehow it all made sense and it worked.
For cycling across Europe I had done something similar for training to cross the Alps; some evenings after work I would cycle up Knockmaroon Hill three times in a row. As hills go it’s short but to the point. And that stood me well on the big day I climbed for 90 km out of 128 crossing at the Col du Lautaret over the blue wall that was the Alps.
So I get annoyed when Irish people don’t know their counties very well. Especially counties that border where they are from. I’ve cycled all over the counties that neighbour Dublin, but I’ve cycled Kildare most of all. And that makes it one of my favourite counties.
And while its flatness helped me deal with the flatness of Kansas, well Kildare isn’t actually that flat. And neither as it happens is Kansas. So if you’re Irish and you’re wondering how you’ll cope cycling across the Plains states of America, know that the Irish midlands is a perfect place to train.
But of course Irish counties are more than training grounds for self-indulgent cyclists from Dublin, and I really haven’t enjoyed watching - albeit from a distance of late - the neighbouring counties of Dublin get colonized by the capital.
I happen to like Kildare, Meath, Offaly, and Westmeath for themselves. (I’m leaving Wicklow off this list because it’s too easy to like) And I’ve seen them mostly from the saddle of a bicycle.
So I get annoyed when I hear of tourists who want to see the “real Ireland” believing it is made up of half a dozen counties in the West, that the midlands doesn’t exist, that Dublin is nothing more than an airport, and that the North doesn’t count at all.
But you might not know that from the questions I supplied to Primal Sneeze’s most Frequently Given Answers (presumably to the actual most Frequently Asked Questions)
Eolaí gan Fhéile:
In the book Kildare - History & Society, the foreword by John McKenna says outsiders often dismiss [Kildare] as a place lost between two cultures, a region devoid of the sophistication of the east coast and the Irishness of the south and west of the country. (The same could be said of any midlands county).
He goes on to disprove that by showing how richly the accent and dialect varies from north to south, just as the topography does. But seeing as my copy is buried somewhere in the bowls of a storage container right now I can’t quote more verbatim.