I put up this blog post on March 27, almost two months later than the other Greenway posts. I knew that one beautiful stretch was left unexplored, and it was bugging me. That day I was feeling unwell and decided to do something silly – like leaving home shortly before the sunset and heading west. When I turned towards Stradbally, to my surprise the road was busy as never before. At the Greenway car park two uniformed men were trying to regulate the traffic. What could have happened on the quiet country road? Trucks, buses – why they were there? I checked the news and learned that a small airplane crashed 200m off the Cork road, and the traffic was diverted.
I parked and walked into the sunset. Cheerful little Robin, painted pink by the setting sun, greeted me with his song.
Soon I reached the old Durrow/Stradbally station, now a home to a noisy family of Jackdaws, and probably, some ghosts.
There I also found a model of a tunnel we will visit next week. Local artists John Hayes and James ‘Joxer’ Doyle designed and created two playgrounds along the Greenway.
As I kept walking, the beautiful golden light painted the evening.
It started getting darker. Telephone pole from my childhood emerged from the bushes.
Finally I stood on the top of a little brother of the Kilmacthomas Viaduct – the seven arch Durrow Viaduct built in 1878.
It doesn’t look impressive – just another bridge.
As the sun went down I had to hurry back. I wanted to take a picture of the viaduct from the road beneath.
The sun set the sky on fire one more time.
I stop to take a picture of an old shed that looks quite spectacular. In the 1940’s- 1950’s the shed used to be a dance hall run by Willie Cronin, and later it was a carpenter’s workshop.
The hawthorn trees don’t look friendly in twilight.
Finally I drove to the viaduct, parked next to someone’s driveway, and walked towards the sound of gurgling stream. A special thing about this viaduct is that it spans a road, a river, and a bridge across the river.
River Tay, squeezed between the rivers Mahon and Dalligan, is rushing to the Celtic Sea and joins the big waters in Stradbally Cove. I got a word that raw sewage flows into the river in Stradbally. I still love the Cove and think that it is a great place to visit, but I never take my shoes off when walking in the sand.
Blue twilight and slow shutter speed add a bit of mystery.
I finished photographing the river and turned back. My initial plan was to walk to the other side and check out an abandoned house I spotted from the top of the viaduct, but after seeing the evil-looking tree peeking from behind the stone pillar, I thought I was fine and ready to run back to my car, asap.
My last blog post about the Waterford Greenway is out next weekend.