Its passing has meant the loss of another old friend. Lives have changed, indeed an entire chapter of Irish social history is closed forever. It was a place where families enjoyed new levels of intimacy and many a roadside picnic. Letters were written. The Rules of the Road were consulted by some drivers who never before had so much spare time. Manufacturer's manuals were discovered as popular reading and finally came into their own.
Novels were read, nappies changed, German grammar mastered, dogs walked - some were even house trained. Football matches were analysed, referees, the blind and the gutless as well as the despotic, were cursed. Romances began and ended and in some cases were revived. A couple of informal weddings took place. A friend taught his son to drive, while his wife knitted a sweater.
Yes, it was a home away from home, guaranteed to bring a lump to the throat. Plans for a leisure centre was discussed. There probably was dancing at the crossroads as well, though some of us were too busy playing marathon chess matches to notice.
Enigmatic appeal
Okay, so some cars overheated, the less temperate individuals amongst us fretted and fumed. Yet if the soul leaps on crossing the Shannon heading West, the heart could well contract with anticipation on arrival at Kinnegad, Co Westmeath, particularly of a Sunday evening, or better still, on a Bank Holiday Monday. Truly a place of such enigmatic appeal, nay magnetic hold over the motorist, even those crazies intent on circumnavigating the country at 100 miles an hour, had to stop and ponder their lives, never mind their dodgy driving.
But time is relentless. Some ambitious spoilsport was determined to undermine the already beleaguered cultural life of the Irish motorist. That most impersonal of inventions, the motorway bypass, has ended those long, happy, contemplative sessions at Kinnegad where the Galway and Sligo roads met in that most dramatic and life-affirming of social gatherings known as the tailback. As is often said of great tailbacks, what an opportunity for a politician or better, still, Jehovah's Witnesses. Could anyone in search of a vote or a couple of converts, or just someone to listen to them, happen upon a more captive audience?
Tailback-dependent drivers across the nation were shattered. An immense sensation of loss became so widespread, support groups were established. But help was at hand. Kildare Town has stepped in. Admittedly it means drivers heading West or North-West do have a slight detour. "I don't care if I have to drive halfway to Limerick on my way to Galway" declared one man, "I need that peace of mind, that time to think the Kinnegad tailback used to give me". His views are shared by a tall father of five who always stopped in Kinnegad to stretch his legs. "I'm prone to leg cramps, and the bottom seizes up as well" he confessed. These men are coming to terms with the loss of Kinnegad, thanks to Kildare Town which is already a truly mythic tailback.
Grateful for rest
Drivers from Cork, Kerry, Limerick and other Southerly destinations are pleased to share their pleasures and are welcoming their Western and Westbound motoring countrymen as they discover the wonders of the Kildare Town tailback. "I'm thrilled" confirmed a Dublin housewife who regularly visits her sister in Roundstone, Connemara. "I was always grateful for the rest at Kinnegad. Now I find I can actually fall asleep at Kildare Town. It's marvellous. There's often about a 1,000 cars. Most of the drivers are content to nap. There's a real sense of community. There's no chance of being woken up. I honestly believe" she confided, "that this could well prove Ireland's greatest tailback. Please God the Government will decide that rare snail living in Pollardstown Fen is important enough to make it drop the plans for a bypass. Kildare doesn't need one." Her eyes bright with tears, her voice quivering with emotion, long finger nails digging into my arm, she stressed, "I love this tailback."
Less emotional motorists have also discovered the Japanese Gardens. They love the serenity of the garden concept. Some have suggested the tailback, with its deliberate lack of motion is, in fact, an extension of the Gardens. "Well, like, the Gardens must have inspired the tailback" reasoned an agricultural inspector from Moate. "Or sure, maybe, 'twas the tailback inspired the Gardens." Either way, the precious time he now has to sit peacefully in his car, reflecting on life etc., has helped him come to terms with stress. "There's something very comforting about knowing you can't move and there's nothing you can do about it. It makes ye just sit and think. I'm a better man for it. I reckon suspended animation is the way forward for the next century." A thousand voices echo their approval, a new guru has emerged. The agricultural inspector walked down the tailback signing autographs and accepted an invitation to a steak lunch being lovingly prepared on a grill set up in the boot of a battered Volvo estate.
Herds of sheep
Aside from its truly beautiful tailback, Kildare Town is interesting. St Brigid left her native Co Louth and settled here. Nearby is the Curragh, that vast plain which is home to several herds of sheep. Not the most engaging of animals, it is ironic that such unattractive creatures begin life as adorable lambs. There is only one thing more visually unappealing than an adult sheep and that is a recently shorn adult sheep. An unusually brazen fox trotted up to within 10 feet of several shorn ewes the other morning, paused, perused and then turned away, possibly finished with meat forever.
Meanwhile back in Kildare Town, traffic remains at a genteel standstill. Plenty of time to visit the Cathedral, built on the site of St Brigid's monastery. Begun in the 13th century, the Cathedral was partially restored in the 15th and heavily restored in the 19th and contains several medieval tombs. Elizabeth Ann Steele who was buried in the churchyard on May 28th, will be the last to lie here. The Round Tower with its Romanesque doorway is open until 5 o'clock most evenings and offers a splendid view not only of the surrounding, and now heavily developed, Kildare countryside, but also of an already majestic tailback. Sydney Opera House, herds of wildebeest grazing at dusk, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon? Who needs them. Count the cars at Kildare Town, it's so restful. They move so much more slowly than sheep.