Summer Snaps: The shutters come down on your holiday pictures

Revealing swimwear, Queen Beatrix in a gay bar, and buggies driven under the influence: here is our final pick of readers’ summer memories

Thu, Aug 21, 2014, 01:00

 

A born optimist

Like other Limerick families, we spent our annual holidays in Kilkee, Co Clare. This photograph was taken in the summer of 1949 and shows my mother and me walking along Marine Parade, overlooking Kilkee’s misty horseshoe bay.

The weather was too wet for the beach, so my mother decided to take me for a walk – an idea shared by the other people in the photograph who are wrapped in their raincoats and sheltering under an umbrella.

My mother was wearing a yellow hooded raincoat that she had recently bought. It must have looked like a burst of sunshine on such a grey day.

Always the optimist, she was carrying my bucket and spade in case the weather miraculously improved. Somehow, she was able to obtain a length of similar material to her yellow raincoat, and she made me a small shower cloak with a matching hood.

Clearly it was near dinner time when the photograph was taken, as I am doing my best to chew the edge off my cloak. Pat Dargan

 

Watertight

This is my friend Zoltán Gál from Pécs, Hungary, taking shelter while hiking in the Wicklow mountains.

Our expedition with 23 other hikers took us across the mountains of Cushbawn, Ballinacor, and Croghanmoira. We were an eclectic mix: people from Rome, Barcelona, China and exotic places such as Rathdrum, Wexford, Galway and Mullingar. On these hikes we use satnav to find the path less trodden, and sometimes climb over an extra mountain by mistake.

Zoltán spent the past few months working as an economist with a Dublin university.

On the day this photo was taken, the beautiful sunny morning had held no hint of the afternoon’s deluge. Zoltán arrived without appropriate rainwear. When the heavens opened, he was delighted to find a plastic bag in his jacket pocket. He joked that it was a great investment for the bag tax of 22 cent. It’s not the first time a visiting economist has discovered a watertight tax shelter in Ireland. Ciarán Walsh

 

The railway children

My grandparents were gatekeepers on the railway in Moate, Co Westmeath. They lived in a little two-room cottage at the railway. I took this photo outside the station when I was 13. It was the summer of 1967, and my cousins, sisters and brother are drinking lemonade from china cups. Some of us slept in granny’s, and the rest in my grand-aunt’s cottage where there was no running water or television, a novelty for us Dubs. We used to go to a neighbour for buckets of water and made sure to go at a time when we could watch their television. The 5pm express train from Galway to Dublin whizzed past every day. My job, as the eldest, was to gather the other 10 cousins together, in case they strayed on to the railway. Every Saturday night we were all bathed in turn in a zinc bath, the water from which was then used to wash the floor. Then we’d get our Sunday clothes on for Saturday-night Mass. Afterwards, Gran would bring us for chips and give us a shilling for the jukebox. We were a lucky bunch and we knew it. Mary Jackson

 

Pram crawl

This picture was taken in summer 1988, the weekend of the annual festival in Tramore, Co Waterford. This was the pram race. Some friends and I had borrowed my cousin’s Silver Cross buggy, which she was still using at the time.

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