Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 8, Episode 15 - Ballina to Westport - full transcript

[OPENING THEME MUSIC]

For Victorian Britons,

George Bradshaw was
a household name.

At a time when railways were new,

Bradshaw's guidebook inspired them
to take to the tracks.

I'm using a Bradshaw's guide to
understand how trains transformed

Britain and Ireland, their
landscape, industry, society

and leisure time.

As I follow its routes 130 years
later,

it helps me to discover these
islands today.

I'm completing my journey across
Ireland,



now on the rugged north-western
Atlantic coast

and I intend to take to the waters,

but safely, because the sea has
claimed many lives.

Religion looms large in Irish
culture.

I'll investigate how a beatific nun
tackled poverty and hunger,

and I'll assume the high ground in
search of Ireland's patron saint.

I began my journey on the coast at
Wexford

and then travelled north to Dublin,
the capital, before turning west.

I crossed this beautiful country

discovering an Irish identity
stimulated by political struggles.

I'll be ending my Irish travels on
the Atlantic coast.

For this final leg, I begin in
Ballina, stopping next in Foxford,

before concluding in Westport and
the coast at Clew Bay.

'Along the way, things heat up, with an
unusual Victorian health treatment.



Steam is rising all around me.

'I learn of a terrible tragedy at
Clew Bay...

A lot of the young people got very
excited,

because they'd never seen a steamer
before,

and they all went to one side to
have a good closer look

and unfortunately,
the boat capsized.

'and stretch my skills at a
woollen mill.'

I'm involved in a delicate
industrial process!

I'm on tenterhooks!

My first stop today will be Ballina.

Bradshaw's tells me it's probably
more frequented by tourists than any

other part of the district, with
40 miles of splendid cliff.

The tourists might make excursions
into the wild Tyrawley and Edis districts.

Despite the formidable reputation of
the Atlantic,

I do intend to take a dip.

I don't want anyone to think me
sea weedy.

As Bradshaw's indicates,

there was much to draw Victorian
tourists to the region.

Arriving by train from towns and
cities inland,

they would flock to the coast to
take the air and waters.

Along the coast in Enniscrone,

a particular treatment has attracted
visitors for over 100 years.

It relies on a locally growing
ingredient.

I've come to meet Edward Kilcullen.

Edward.
- Michael.

What a very beautiful place,
what a lovely day.

I'm really awestruck by it.

Well, you're very welcome.

Can it be true that you bathe in
seaweed here?

Absolutely, Michael. And we have
done for the last 104 years.

Why?

Because seaweed bathing and
seawater and seaweed is good for you.

Don't ask me to prove it
scientifically, but tradition along

the west coast of Ireland has it
that if you bathe in

seawater and seaweed,

it's good to relieve the symptoms of
rheumatism and arthritis,

and years ago, that's why people
took seaweed baths.

Which seaweed do you use? This stuff?
- No, that is bladder-wreck.

It's not abundant enough for us.

What we use is Fucus serratus, more
commonly known as Flat wrack,

which grows just a little bit
further down the shore

and we have to harvest that
every day.

So while the Prince of Wales in the
19th century is going to Bognor...

Yes...

here, you are developing
seaweed bathing,

also as a kind of genteel activity,

is that right?
- Genteel activity, yes.

The actual original bathhouse that
was built in Enniscrone was built as

a private facility by our local landlord,
who was a fashionable gentleman.

So he took a swim here in
Enniscrone on the beach.

The water's only about 12, 13
degrees, so it will be freezing!

So he built a little bathhouse on
the rocks

and so somebody would have his bath
ready for him when he came in,

to warm him up.

So that was the first seawater
bath in Enniscrone

and he was the one who did it.

So because he did it, other people
decided to do it.

The seaweed is harvested by hand
every day at low tide

and then taken up to the bathhouse,

which was opened for business in
1912 by Edward's grandfather.

Ah, thank you so much.

It still retains all the original
porcelain baths, solid brass taps

and panelled wooden cisterns.

The process today is exactly as it
was 100 years ago.

Now, Michael. So, I'm going to fill
your bath with warm seawater.

As well, I'm going to pop the
seaweed into it.

But first of all, you'll sit into
your steam box,

so it opens your pores
before your bath.

Sit in, close your door and you'll
pop your head up at the top.

And you just lift the lever slowly.

Then, your bath and there's also a
cold seawater shower

as well, yeah.
Forgot to mention that bit!

So that closes your pores after,

so it's being pumped straight in from
the sea, if you're brave enough.

The bathhouse has many regular customers
who take weekly seaweed soaks.

The bath is filled with warmed
seawater, then the seaweed is steamed,

turning it from brown to green.

It's a completely different texture
as well. It's oily and slimy.

Urgh! Eurgh.

The steaming process releases oils,

nutrients and alginate from
the seaweed.

So your bath's ready for you,
Michael.

What do you think?
- Er...

unusual, I would say.

So I'll just leave you to enjoy your
bath, OK?

Thank you, Lorna.

Step one is to get inside
the steam chamber.

Oh! That is a very strange feeling!

I have a little steam lever, here,
which I'm going to operate rather gently.

Steam is rising all around me.

Actually, that's rather pleasant!

The heat and the steam open up the
pores, ready for the seaweed soak.

Former politician involved in
steamy scene.

[HE COUGHS]

Now, like Dracula rising from his
coffin!

Oh-ho-ho!

I step into my seaweed bath.

Ah!

I can feel it all over my skin,
sort of clinging to me.

But now, I've sort of got over
the yuck factor,

it's actually rather nice.

The amber tint in the water is
caused by iodine.

Seaweed is one of nature's richest
sources of this therapeutic element.

It's certainly very relaxing,

but all good things come to an end.

Now for the Lorna challenge -
a shower in cold seawater.

AH! AHHH!

My next stop will be Foxford,
which the guide tells me is a small

place on the Moy,
a good salmon river.

In Victorian times, a river could
mean a mill.

A mill could mean work, rather than
the workhouse.

Foxford, a village with a population
of around 1,300,

is located in the western
county of Mayo.

The great famine hit County Mayo
hard

and nine workhouses were built for
the destitute.

I'm visiting a more cheerful vestige
of those times -

Foxford Wool Mill,
run by Joe Queenan.

Hello, Joe.
- Hello, Michael.

You're very welcome.

Thank you very much.
I must say, I love visiting a mill.

And you've got some gorgeous-looking
products here.

There's not too many of us left
operational in the world at the moment

and this loom in particular is
weaving Irish tweed

using Shetland yarns.

This is the sort of wool you use,
is it?

This is the wool, it's Iamb's wool,
100% Merino.

The mill, I suppose, was established
by the river to use water power.

You won't be using that today.

No, we stopped using water power
in 1965.

We're using mains now.

The mill dates back to 1892

and it's surprising to find out that
its founder was no rich industrialist

but a nun from the Irish
Sisters of Charity, Mother Arsenius.

Joe, it seems like we're in the
historic part of the mill here.

Tell me more about Mother Arsenius.

She obviously had a passion about
helping people

and she visited Foxford and saw
the destitution that existed in the area,

and she wanted to do something and
help her fellow mankind.

This devout and driven nun secured a
loan of £7,000 from the so-called

Congested Districts Board.

A mill race off the River Moy and
mill buildings were constructed.

The early years were a struggle, but
by the turn of the century, the mill

had begun to thrive and to employ
much of the immediate population.

She was effectively, then, an
entrepreneur, which seems odd to me.

I don't think of nuns as being
entrepreneurial.

No, she knew nothing about textiles,
knew nothing about business,

but she just had this vision
and passion.

What do you think drove her?

She had a great faith in God and
with that, a huge desire to help people.

And if we look up here, Michael,
at her motto and logo,

"God's providence is our
inheritance."

What does she mean by that?

Her attitude was you didn't just
pray and hope things happened,

you went out, did your 100%, and
providence met you the other halfway.

And what was her impact, then,
on Foxford?

Huge. If you imagine this place employed
250 people of a population of 700.

Today, the operation that
Mother Arsenius setup

remains an important part of the
local economy.

The workforce is much smaller,
but the mill still employs

around 70 people.

This appears to be a delightfully
colourful part of the process.

What's going on here?

This, Michael, is called a tinter.

It's a very, very old form of
drying.

If you look at the two lines of
chains with hooks on them,

they're known as tenterhooks.

So the expression under pressure or
nervous comes from there.

I had no idea about that.

And what width are you using here?

We're using 66.

We need it to go out to 69.

Pressing now.

That's it.

Perfect. Well done. 69 on the
button. On the button.

And is there anything we should do
while it's going through?

No. It's important to keep it
straight,

so as the machine is moving, if you
have to, apply some pressure,

mainly at the edges, and keep it
straight.

Well, let battle commence.
- OK, Michael.

Now, come over here and just watch
that your lines are straight.

It's perfect.

Hot air circulates through the
machine,

which drives the fabric whilst it's
being stretched.

I'm involved in a delicate
industrial process.

I'm on tenterhooks.

Foxford Station is on a branch line
off the main Dublin to Westport line.

In order to continue west, I'll need
to make a most unusual change.

Riddle - when can you neither enter
nor leave a railway station?

Answer - when it's called
Manulla Junction,

because, whilst you can
change train here,

there is no ingress and no egress.

You cannot buy a ticket here, you
cannot buy a ticket to here.

Unique in my experience so far.

Serving only a sparse population,
the station closed in 1963.

It reopened in 1988 as an
interchange station only.

The Dublin train has taken all the
passengers, leaving me alone.

Finally, my train arrives.

My next stop will be Westport,
County Mayo.

Bradshaw says, "It's in a valley at
the head of an inlet on the south

"side of Clew Bay under
Croagh Patrick.

"A week might pleasantly be passed
boating,

"picnicking and bathing
amid the islands."

In the limited time that I shall
have,

I intend to study disaster and
divinity.

The planned Georgian town of Westport
dates back to the late 18th century,

when Lord Sligo of Westport House
cleared a village of 700 people to

make way for it to be built along
the Carrowbeg River to Clew Bay.

Now, this is interesting.

The town before the railway

was designated to be the port of
the west of Ireland

and stacks of now vacant warehouses
were built.

They might readily be converted into
factories and ships run into

Westport with cotton from America.

In the 21st century, those
warehouses were changed into hotels,

cafes and seafood restaurants.

Yummy.

To end my day, I want to try a local
speciality from this coast.

Good evening. You're welcome to
The Idle Wall.

Thank you very much. I was hoping for
some fresh seafood from Clew Bay.

Tonight, I have some
really wonderful native clams.

Sold. And a glass of white wine,
please.

Absolutely, coming right up.
Thank you.

Ah! Gosh.

Fascinating clams, aren't they?

This is the prayer clam, you see the
beautiful pearlised inside.

I do. That's superb.
- And this is a lighter shell one.

It's a little bit more sweet.

I'm going to try this prayer clam.

Dip it in the white wine and the
garlic.

Mmm.

Gosh, that's so fresh.

Now try the native clam.

What a delicious meal.

This morning, I start on the coast
at Clew Bay,

looking out to the rugged
Atlantic Ocean.

"Clew Bay," says Bradshaw's,

"forms an archipelago of 100 green
islands popularly said to be 365,

"varying in size from a few acres to
a mile in length.

"Mist and rain are the rule here."

And, indeed, bad weather
threatens today.

Over time, the islanders have often
had to close ranks

and not just against the elements.

One of the largest islands of the
archipelago is Achill Island

and I'm meeting one of its
residents, historian John Sweeney,

for a tour of the bay.

How many of these islands is
populated?

Just four major islands with a
decent population left.

The rest of the 360-odd islands are
down to maybe an odd house.

What sort of communities do you have
on the islands?

Sadly it's a two-ended side to the
community.

We've the very young, up to 17
and 18,

and after that they go off
to college,

emigrate usually after that and we
don't see them again,

and then we have the very elderly on
the island,

so we're a community of kind of two
halves, the young and the very old.

Emigration has long been a part of
life for the islanders of Achill.

During the famine of the 18408, many
left their homeland for good,

whilst others travelled for seasonal
work in other parts of the British Isles.

In 1894, a terrible disaster would strike
these migrant workers here in Clew Bay.

It was a shocking tragedy,

which consisted of migrants from
Achill who were travelling to

Scotland to pick the potatoes.

They were on what they would call
a hooker, a big carrying boat,

and they were just outside Westport
to meet the steamer here.

It was picking them up and bringing
them up to Scotland,

and a lot of the young people got
very excited to see the boat because

they'd never seen a steamer before,

and they all went to one side to
have a good closer look

and, unfortunately, the boat
capsized and, as a result of it,

34 young people were drowned.

Tragic. Lost the whole island, as
you can imagine.

The bodies were returned to Achill
by train from Westport.

The line had just been completed and
the very first train to run

performed this sombre service.

Sadly, the very last rail service into
Achill would also be marked by tragedy.

The tattie pickers were in Scotland,

finishing up their contract for the
year and they were locked in a barn

and, unfortunately, a fire started
during the middle of the night and

ten of them lost their lives in this
tragic fire.

The dead were once again
returned by train.

It was to be the last rail service
to the island before the line was

closed for good.

Leaving Clew Bay behind me, ahead is
my last stop here in Ireland

and it's one of the most
breathtaking.

Bradshaw's tells me that the tourist
who neglects the ascent

of Croagh Patrick will lose one of
the finest sights of its kind in the

British Isles. And with such
encouragement,

will I be daunted by a little rain
and swirling mists?

The striking mountain of
Craogh Patrick is the destination of

one of Ireland's most popular
Christian pilgrimages.

The name is Irish for Patrick's Stack
and is known locally as the Reek.

Guiding me up its slopes today is
historian Harry Hughes.

Hello, Harry.
- Hello, Michael, how are you?

You're very welcome to a bleak and
wet, but wonderful Croagh Patrick.

You weren't put off by the weather!
- Indeed not, indeed not.

I'd like to present you with a stick
for the Reek,

traditionally the staff for climbing
the mountain.

Very nice.
Thank you very much.

We meet by a statue of St Patrick.

According to my Bradshaw's
guidebook,

there is a hut on the mountain
where, supposedly,

the saint sojourned for a time.

Is that true?
- It is true.

We know from earlier references,
particularly the Book Of Armagh,

which is at Trinity College,

written 200 years after Patrick's
sojourn on the mountain.

It clearly states that Patrick came
here, we believe,

in the year 441 and stayed on the
summit for 40 days and 40 nights.

Who was Patrick?

Patrick, we believe,
came from Wales, but he certainly

came from Gaelic Britain
and he was caught as a slave,

enslaved here, herding sheep for a
number of years.

He eventually escaped, studied
the Christian faith,

eventually became a bishop and came
back to Ireland with

the intention of Christianising the
Pagan Irish.

This wonderful mountain,

exceptional mountain with its
distinctive conical shape,

was that of importance to early man
before the Christians?

Hugely important. The archaeologists
found early Roman jewellery, 500 BC,

which is 1,000 years before
Patrick's visit to this mountain

and it would have been important for
Patrick to conquer all the important

Pagan ritual sites on behalf of
Christianity.

I'm not sure I'll get all the way
to the summit today, but

shall we press on and get on the way?
- We'll try, anyway. Come on. OK.

It rises to a height of
over 2,500 feet.

It takes around two hours to climb the
peak and one and half hours to descend.

It's become a tradition to climb the
mountain on the last Sunday of July,

known as Reek Sunday,
when 20,000 people make the ascent

and a priest celebrates mass
on the summit.

Bradshaw's tells me that around the
patron saint's day,

pilgrims doing penance climb on
their bare knees.

There probably were some who would
have walked this mountain in their

bare feet back then, but the vast
majority of pilgrims would wear

hardy boots and climb the mountain
and walk up and will kneel at the

summit, of course, to say their
prayers.

I suppose that around the time of my
guidebook,

pilgrimage to Croagh Patrick would've
become a national phenomenon in Ireland.

Yes, the train companies got on
board and many trains brought

pilgrims to this mountain and they built
a new church on the summit in 1905.

So we know for quite a number of
years after this,

the main mode of transport coming to
Croagh Patrick was by rail.

What do you think is the
significance of Croagh Patrick to

the Irish people?
- This is a hugely important site.

This is the interface between the
mother Earth and the spiritual world.

And this, to Irish people, is the
holy mountain of Ireland.

Today, the mountain attracts
pilgrims and hikers from allover

Ireland and around the world.

Hello.
- Afternoon, sir.

I see that you are climbing Croagh
Patrick on a pretty inclement day.

Why are you doing it?

I heard it's one of the best
mountains in Ireland

and hiking is what I do,
what I love,

and I heard the legends about
St Patrick climbing the mountain,

the penitant climbing the mountain
and all that,

and that's something I had to see
before I left.

Do you have any religious
views or feelings?

I'm a Catholic, sir.

You're not going to get much
of a View today.

Does that make a difference?
- No, not at all.

Why do you say that?
- It's the journey.

It's the journey that makes the
experience.

As I end my journey in Ireland,
I couldn't agree more.

Take an island separated from
other land,

inhabited since the dawn of history,
with its powerful myths and

distinctive language,
heat with religion.

Whipped together, these ingredients
produce a national emotion.

Add songsters and poets inspired by
this verdant landscape and flavoured

with the fiddle and the harp, and the
emotion becomes a hope.

Stir with colonial repression and a
terrible hunger,

and the hope becomes a determination
to be free.

At the time of my Bradshaw's guide,
Ireland was approaching boiling point.

'Next time - through breathtaking
scenery,

'where I'll encounter magnificent
beasts,

'mimic fearless explorers and witness
distinctive customs.

'I'll travel 1,500 miles,

'recapturing the excitement and
promise of the American frontier.'

[HORN BLARES]

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