The Friday market in Moycullen is the happy home of Level 7+ Hippies, local farmers, continental crafties and foodies... and occasionally escaped students from NUI, Galway. I've attempted to blog on this before but my photographer let me down a bomb and has just now forwarded the photos from our last Moycullen Market adventure. Thus I am rolling this into a super post incorporating two market trips, and an adventure extension.
The market runs every Friday at An Fuaran from 1 to 7. You can find them on Facebook, here. I suggest skipping lunch, because when you step out of the car the assault on your senses will make your knees weaken along with your resolve, and you WILL have a second meal. If you manage to make it past the sausage guy - who generously gave my hungry looking friend Jos a twofer (that's TWO sausages per roll) - you can choose from sushi (melt in your mouth - the crab rolls are sheer perfection), an Indian stall which also sells freshly mixed spice packs (I went back for second helpings of onion and vegetable bhaji) and for dessert Dutch Poffertjes which are teeny tiny pancakes. The jolly lady who runs this stall will helpfully advise you not to split your Poffertjes with a friend. Listen to her, she knows what she's talking about. If you're feeling fancy take a seat, and enjoy a plate of oysters and a glass of wine for mere pocket change.
And these are just the usual suspects! The market has a moving cast, so every week there is a something different. On top of the stop-and eat stalls there are are butchers, bakers, candle-stick makers (no, really), jam, soap, crafts and last time I visited chickens and ducks! My absolute favourite is the olive stall which has other assorted goodies including a to-die-for smoked red pesto which goes great with the two year aged parmesan.
Gerry Geoghegan is the Market Manager. You can reach him on 087 2672371.
This week we took our market haul in search of a peaceful spot for a picnic. Remember Rule 3: Take detours? Turning right in Moycullen we looked for routes down to the Corrib lake shore. Having taken poor Scarlet down several grassy boreens, her little engine rattling like a bowl of pistachios, we eventually spotted one of those friendly brown road signs that point towards scenic routes, picnic areas and bed and breakfasts whose proprietors dropped a brown envelope to a the county council. This one said 'Lough Doon, 1km.' We veered wildly off the main road, and headed down another boreen. If you're in a jeep or someone else's car, you can drive down to the end of this road and walk to the lake from there. If you enjoy walking along pretty overgrown grassy roads, get out and hoof it. The lake is a fishing area, and has little docks every so often for sitting and fishing, or in our case picnicking. While the walk around the woods is fun, the lake has unfortunately been quite littered. Our view beyond the lily pads and fish, was of a digger. For your ocular delight I am instead misleadingly posting a picture of the Corrib lakeshore. I don't even feel bad about it.
Not content with mountains of humous, olives, and the gentle plop of jumping fish, we piled back in the car and headed farther out to Oughterard. From here we took the scenic drive (another brown sign) around the Corrib, dead-ending at Curraun Beg. Here the sun was preparing to set, and we splashed happily pondering how fun it would be to row out to the huge lake island we were looking at across the water.*
*Note: Very much not an island.