Long journey to say a final goodbye to Shane MacGowan

Two grandmothers from Derry, who have been fans of The Pogues since they were 16, undertook the five-hour trip to Nenagh to attend the funeral Mass of the band's frontman, Shane MacGowa in Nenagh. In what turned out to be a memorable adventure, they were put up for the night by a local woman they just happened to meet at the ceremony and ended up visiting the singer's favourite local pub for a wake. One of the women, Sinead Harley, recounts here the sheer excitement of it all......

The back seats of the car folded down, quilts and candlewick blankets laid out as a makeshift bed. It’s a long way to Tipperary - and back.

A 3.30am start with my old friend Julie McGurk. Driving down the winding roads, through the small towns and villages of the midlands in the dark of night. A rosary was said for a safe journey.

We reminisced about our youth, meeting Shane MacGowan in the mid-1980s being one of the highlights.

This was going to be a last hurrah to the carefree wild days of yesteryear. We took the day off work to re-live our youth as big Shane MacGowan fans for just another day or two.

We drove through the dark night and as dawn approached we found a welcome coffee stop. A stretch of the legs, a toilet break and a breakfast bap to help us our way.

We arrived in Nenagh at 8.30am and parked up at a local supermarket to get supplies of water, nuts, bananas and bars to keep us going.

Shortly before 9am we turned into Church Road. RTÉ vans and roadies were unloading all sorts of technical equipment. There were not the crowds yet that we had anticipated.

Here we were in Nenagh, two wee Derry girls, and once 16-year-old Pogue fans. But the years have moved swiftly and now we actually have seven children and six grandchildren between us.

We arrive at Saint Mary of the Rosary Church to bid farewell to our hero. We placed our memorial plaque to Shane at the entrance to the chapel and in we went. We lit candles for loved ones, and in thanksgiving for having the opportunity to be part of the funeral Mass and celebration of Shane’s life.

We didn’t give a thought to the fact that we were over six hours early for the funeral!

THE GATHERING BEGINS

At around 10.30am people started gathering and taking their seats. It was great to see so many older people coming to pay their respects. Little did we know that they were there not for Shane’s funeral, but for the daily 11 o’clock Mass!

During the Mass fans started to arrive for the funeral, some wandered around deliberating on where to sit.

As the 11am mass-goers left, there was a change of tempo. The technical team quickly sprang into action. The first 12 rows of the chapel were cordoned off and reserved signs were placed on the seats.

Over the next few hours fans and locals gathered until the aisles were bursting.

Many interesting stories were shared about Shane, some funny, others exaggerated. Two local sisters joined us, Margaret Mary and Mary Margaret. Thankfully the former goes by the name Mags, because the lack of sleep would have left us tongue tied. They were as delighted as ourselves to be in the chapel.

OFFER OF A BED

These local girls asked about our accommodation. We told them about hotel Kia (our car) and they immediately offered us a bed for the night.

Initially we declined, as real life was waiting for us back in Derry, but thankfully our 16-year-old selves helped us to reconsider. A third sister, Sarah, joined and we squeezed up to make room.

‘Skinny’, a local man, sat in front of us with his son and wife. On seeing the confused look on my face, he explained he was given the nickname many years ago. The banter between the fans was great. Skinny’s wife and son went out and brought back coffee for us. They wouldn’t take any money as they said we had travelled so far it was the least they could do.

SURREAL AND MAGICAL

The atmosphere was electric. As sound checks began we looked at each other in disbelief. It was surreal, magical. The ‘stars’ began to arrive. Nudging and whispers informed others that such and such had just walked in.

Anticipation was building as whispers informed us that Shane’s remains were close by, and would soon arrive.

Time stood still for the next two and a half hours as the funeral Mass got underway. Shane’s life was celebrated as a musician, poet, son, brother, husband and friend. A man whose funeral Mass reflected his life, filled with music and excess to the very end.

If only, we had more priests like the main celebrant, Fr Pat Gilbert. If only, we could sing, dance and raise the roof in celebration like we did in that church in Nenagh.

Shane departed the chapel in a simple wicker coffin followed by the President of Ireland Michael D Higgins, his family, his friends and his fans.

After the Mass we walked to Philly Ryan’s, Shane’s local when in Nenagh. We arrived as his coffin was being taken into Philly’s undertakers across the road where it was to remain overnight. Inside the pub, the session was in full swing.

Tiredness had caught up with Julie and I during the walk from the chapel to the pub. We decided to go for a bite to eat and back to the house of one of our new-found Nenagh friends. In Mags’ house we had a few bottles of wine and a great night’s craic with her, her husband Sean, daughter Ciara and daughter-in-law-to-be, Clare.

We fell into bed under a ‘Pogue Mahone’ sign, the perfect end to a perfect day.

OFF TO CARNEY

In the morning, we woke to the smell of a fry. We ate breakfast listening to The Pogues and going over stories about the day before. Mags gave us directions on how to get to Carney, Shane’s ancestral home.

After asking a couple of locals for directions to the old family home, we were lucky that one of them was the wife of a man whose mother was a full cousin of Shane’s mother.

This lovely lady took us right up to the old homestead and told us a few stories about other relative’s homes nearby.

She told us we could go up the field and have a look around the house.

We took her up on the offer, and before we knew it, our legs were swinging over a wobbly farm gate. Did I mention that we are the wrong side of 50? Two menopausal woman with creaking bones and a few extra pounds.

We dodged the cow pats and ducked under the electric fence. I might have fallen once, or twice - but I did get over the gate easier than Julie.

SHANE’S CHILDHOOD HOME

Here we came upon a beautiful simple little cottage that was surrounded by the fields of Shane’s childhood. It was a step back in time.

A holy statue, behind the old net curtains. The old kitchen table and chairs still in situ. If only walls could talk - it was beautiful.

We wandered around the old stone walls before tackling the electric fence and gate again.

The journey home was much longer. Another rosary was said, in thanksgiving this time.

We arrived home in Derry to a message from Mags, checking that we got home safely. She also sent a video of Shane’s remains leaving Philly’s for his final earthly journey.

As Shane’s sister Siobhan said in her eulogy, “That was some send-off”. It most certainly was, and it was a day two wee Derry girls will never forget.

Rest in peace, Shane MacGowan. Thank you for the music, thank you for the memories.