Out and About: Following in the footsteps of Van the Man - and the Meath hurlers

There's a song that Van Morrison included in his memorable album Avalon Sunset which he brought out in the late 1980s.

The marvellous, evocative song is called Coney Island. You know it well. "Coney Island/Coming down from Downpatrick/Stopping off at St. John's Point/Out all day birdwatching/And the craic was good," Van says, yes says, as a orchestra plays out a relaxing, seductive tune in the background.

"Stopped off at Strangford Lough/Early in the morning," he continues. "Drove through Shrigley taking pictures/And on to Killyleagh/Stopped off for Sunday papers at the Lecale District/Just before Coney Island."

And so it goes on. It's a super song or perhaps, more accurately, a poem accompanied by music. It captures a moment in time; of friends, perhaps lovers, out for a day driving around a familiar landscape, relaxed and happy to be in each other's company - and it ends on a very poignant note.

"I look at the side of your face as the sunlight comes/Streaming through the window in the autumn sunshine/And all the time going to Coney Island I'm thinking/Wouldn't it be great if it was like this all the time."

I first heard it when I spent a summer working in New York in 1989 - and because I was away from home the song carried a special, deeper resonance than it otherwise might have done.

The places Van sang about reminded me of locations I also knew well from my own experiences - Kildalkey, Boardsmill, Athboy and Ballivor. Places I had known in my youth and would do so again.

I thought of 'Coney Island' last week when I made my way up to the Ards Peninsula to cover a National Hurling League game between Meath and Down.

The match was in Ballycran, the home of Down hurling, a venue located deep in the heart of the Peninsula. A place well off the beaten track; away from any highways or byways. A place not all that easy to find. I knew that from previous visits.

It's acutally found in the village of Ruban - a fact that makes it that little but more difficult to locate and just about impossible without Googe Maps. There are no signposts for it.

Knowing what was involved in getting there I had set out early in the morning and motored up the road - heading due north. On through Newry to Downpatrick and from there onto Strangford Lough.

My plan was to take the ferry across the Lough from the picturesque village of Stranghord to Portaferry and continue on from there.

That route would cut out the need to travel up beyond Belfast and around the top of the Lough and back down to the Ards Peninsula through Newtownards. I wanted to avoid the traffic of Belfast.

On my way up to the little village of Strangford I passed through signs for The Lecale District and other places such as Killyleagh and Ardglass. I was in Van's country now.

Got to Strangford and waited for the ferry. Drove the car onto the ferry. It didn't take too long to get across the Lough, 10 minutes maybe; didn't have to leave the car.

The passage across cost £13.50 Sterling. From there it was on through the small, winding roads fo the Peninsula up to Ballycran which is not even on the map - at least not the old paper map that I still take with me on journeys - but I found it nonetheless.

The people in Ballycran GAA club are hospitable as you will find at any GAA venue and they are rightfully very proud of their hurling tradition; it is a crucial, precious part of their identity. When a game starts the hospitality is, understandably, put aside.

They want their team to win and Down duly did defeating Meath by nine points. Defeat is invariably the outcome when Meath pay a visit to the home of Down hurling.

I had brought a flask of coffee and some sambos in case I got famished along the way. They staved off the hunger and helped me prepare for the trek back home.

The rain lashed down as I passed back through the Lecale District and Downpatrick and back towards Newry and the finally into Free State. Home.

As I had on the way up I passed through places in county Down that had the tricolour flying and some other places that had the Union Jack proudly on display - although there seemed to be less flags about - of either hue. Certainly not compared to other similar journeys I had made to Ballycran.

I took this as a good sign. An indication perhaps that the divide between the two communities was getting that little bit less wide.

After about two hours and 45 minutes on the road I got home and went about the business of writing up a piece about the hurling drama that had unfolded between Down and Meath.

News of the match didn't feature in that evening's RTE Sports round-up. It was not a major story - but it was important to those involved, including those in Down who regard hurling as an integral part of their culture.

I thought too of Van Morrison's beautifully crafted song/poem and how music has the power to stir the soul. How he wrote about that day in Downpatrick, stopping off at Killyleigh and such places, and how certain locations can mean so much to us as we travel through life.

The places and towns we love so well, to paraphrase Phil Coulter another great Ulster songsmith.