Meathman's Diary: Thumbs up for the age of innocence

Recently a relative who lives in Clare passed a comment that came as something of a surprise – at least to yours truly.

He said that when he is travelling on the road from Milltown Malbay to Ennis – something he does very often – he regularly sees people hitchhiking or “thumbing” as we used to call it. Not only that, he (and this is not surprising) often gives them a lift and is rewarded for his generosity by the stories they have to tell.

For instance, he recently gave a lift to a man who turned out to be a professor in a previous life but had since experienced hard times.

It was a surprise to me to hear that hitchhikers are relatively common in the south-west because they are a rare species indeed in this part of the world.

Not that that was always the case, mind. Back in the day – I’m talking about 30, 40 years ago here – hitchhikers were a common sight standing on the sides of our highways and byways with their thumbs out. I know that because I was one of those travellers who relied on the generosity of others.

For some years in the late 1970s and early ‘80s hitchhiking was my main mode of transport, mainly because I didn’t have much money, but also because you were guaranteed to get a lift to where you wanted to go.

I would often, for example, set out from my then home in Kildalkey heading for Dublin, via Athboy and Navan. Never, not once, was I left stranded on the road.

Sometimes a well-known person might stop. I once, for instance, received a lift from John McCormack, the Bishop of Meath. He was driving a car on his own and, dressed in all his colourful regalia. He gave me a lift from Athboy to Navan – and glad of it I was too.

Sometimes I went further afield. I once hitchhiked across France and on into Germany and Switzerland and back. I got a lift from a man in France for about 100 miles. He had little or no English. I had little or no French, but we somehow communicated.

I also thumbed to a folk festival that used to be held in Ballisodare. The music was held in tents beside the small Sligo village. Somehow I ended up in the tent where the artists hung out and where there was a bar. There I was having a jar in close proximity to the boys from the legendary Planxty, including the one and only Christy Moore – but I digress.

Hitchhiking could bring you in contact with all sorts of folk, famous and otherwise. The fact that people commonly got lifts suggests the late 1970s and early ‘80s was an age of innocence. People were willing to pick up strangers and help them along on their way.

Now people are more wary – and with good reason – although thumbing it seems, is still a thriving trade in Clare and such parts.