Greetings from the cottage!
I’ve been thinking (always a dangerous activity!)
Hello everyone,
Hope you’re all keeping well in this covid world.
I have spent the last few weeks ruminating and dwelling and over thinking. I recently finished the fourth book in The Star and the Shamrock series and it’s currently with my editor so that gave me a window of space in my head. So I went on a skite (Irish-English for an aimless wander involving merriment) around my county, seeking inspiration.
One image that seems to really stir up emotions in people, is the one above. I use it in some Facebook ads etc and it never fails to illicit a response.
If you don’t recognise it, it is the town of Cobh, (pronounced Cove) in Cork, here in Ireland. It’s around a thirty minute drive from my house. It was the last port of call for Titanic in 1912, in 1915 it was from here the rescue mission was launched to save any souls from the torpedoed Lusitania. It saw the Sirius set sail, the first steam ship to cross the Atlantic, and for two and half million people it was the last Irish soil they stood upon. Now, it’s pretty I know, but that’s not why people have a reaction to images of it, I don’t think.
It is, in my own humble opinion, because on some level many people of Irish heritage recognise it, even if they’ve never been here. It was once known as Queenstown, in honour of Queen Victoria and was, for so many, the last sight they would ever have of their beautiful homeland.
The port of Queenstown was the point of embarkation for most Irish people to the new worlds of the USA, Australia, Canada.
When I was a tour guide, I would take people there and nothing really has changed since the days when their ancestors boarded ships, bound for an uncertain yet exciting future.
The people on my tours would stand on the quayside, the same one their forefathers and mothers stood on, and something would happen. I’ve seen it many, many times, some deep connection is felt, some gossamer thread of understanding and empathy, of gratitude too, as if on that quayside the person who left, sometimes centuries earlier, is there, showing their descendant their world, their home. It is an emotional, powerful thing to witness, let alone experience. Places can hold memory, I believe that. If we ever get to travel again, and you have Irish blood in your veins, go there, you won’t regret it. There’s something magical about it.
So, I had an idea for a new series, set in Cobh. I’m excited to get started, and I hope you’ll enjoy it, but that’s all I can say for now!
So, I hope you all have a good week, read a book, turn off the news (who can be dealing with all of that right now? It’s exhausting!) and spare a moment to think about those that came before you. They endured worse and lived to tell the tale,
le grá agus buiochas,
Jean xx