Book Interview: a horseback adventure recalled, 30 years on
Hilary Bradt author, travel book writer and publisher
- A Connemara Journey: A Thousand Miles on Horseback through Western Ireland has just been published by Bradt Guides.Â
- See www.bradtguides.com and www.hilarybradt.com
Ask veteran explorer and travel guide writer Hilary Bradt why it took her over 30 years to publish âthe most important adventure of my life, the one that changed me foreverâ and she has a great excuse. A string of guide books, tour-leading in remote parts of the world, plus running a successful business accounted for only part of the hold-up.
She had galloped through the rough manuscript, helped by detailed diaries and tape recordings, committing a rich tapestry of human encounters, sublime Irish landscapes, places of historic interest and the odd tall story heard during her epic 1,000-mile solo horseback journey through parts of Connaught and much of Munster back in 1984 to the page in a few weeks. Then Hilary lost her manuscript.
The co-founder of Bradt Guides â today with over 200 titles the worldâs largest independently owned travel guides publisher â was fulfilling a childhood ambition to do a long-distance horseback ride which brought her to Ireland, giving free rein to her adventurous spirit and two Connemara ponies.
Short treks in Ethiopia and the Peruvian Andes, taking groups of tourists into the wilderness on horseback proved mere dress rehearsals for this intrepid ten-week-long journey around the Western seaboard, southwards to Kerry and Cork, then west Waterford, skirting the Comeragh and Nagle Mountains and Tipperaryâs Golden Vale.Â
She had mapped out only the general direction she wanted to travel in. Occasionally she found a youth hostel or B & B but more often than not, she called in to a farm or a rural homestead requesting a spot to camp. Everywhere people stopped to chat and all manner of food from full Irish breakfasts to ham and salad suppers and mountains of brown bread and tea were pressed on the appreciative traveller who was on a âvery tight budgetâ.
âI hadnât set out with the intention of writing a book at all; but I wrote up my diary every evening, listening to my tape recorder play-back to catch the immediacy of the moment, the clip-clop of the ponyâs hooves and accents and stories on the wayâ, she explains. Due to the pressure of work in the expanding Bradt Guides publishing business, she had to wait until the following spring to start writing about her intrepid journey.
Hilary had written it all down in pencil on thick A4 pads and she gladly grabbed an opportunity for necessary revision and polishing the travelogue, which she hoped might be publishable when London friends invited her to house sit and look after their parrot. She put diaries and the handwritten manuscript into a cardboard box, drove to her destination, unloaded everything then absentmindedly left the box sitting on an outside wall. A combination of returning the escaped parrot to its cage and absorbing all the written house-minding instructions had taken their toll. She only thought of the box the next morning. By then it was gone.
âI was distraught and I cried for at least an hourâ, she recalls, âthis was pre-computers and the only copy of my precious book was the one Iâd lost; I couldnât, wouldnât write it againâ. After frantic searches, helped by teams of friends, amid fears the box had ended life at a refuse dump or on a bonfire, six months passed. Then out of the blue, a young man arrived at a friendâs address, handing over the box and collecting the ÂŁ50 reward. No questions were asked and no explanation was given. Hilary was ecstatic to get her manuscript back, yet a quick run through it convinced her the contents were not worthy of publishing without a thorough revision. So she took it up to her loft where it remained for many years whilst she âgot on with other thingsâ.
Still she knew that she must tell the story of Mollie with whom her adventure had begun, a white Connemara pony with dappled grey quarters, whose beauty turned heads everywhere, and with whom she quickly developed a touchingly warm bond of friendship. In a dreadful tragedy, one that might have been plucked from ancient mythology, the animal fell to her death from a cliff during a raging storm on one of the remotest stretches of the Dingle Peninsula. Emerging from her tent in the early morning Hilary searched for her in mounting panic. Scrambling down the valley her worst fears were soon confirmed. Foxes had reached her beloved pony by now.
â I stared at her bodyâ, she wrote. âThis couldnât be true. No, it wasnât Mollie, surely it was another horse: Then I looked at the hooves and the irrefutable evidence of the new shoesâ. The search for a blacksmith had been a major challenge in pre-mobile phone Ireland where often there wasnât even a landline available to hunt for a farrier who could be a dayâs ride away. Mollie had recently âstepped out in her new shoes like a child in new wellingtonsâ having been walked on the narrow grass verges on the roadside to save her feet for days. It was a heart-wrenching calamity. Bradt returned home to England overwhelmed with guilt and grief âI felt I should have done more to keep her safeâ.
But to give up would have been to let go of the dream and lose her confidence forever, she decided. She returned to the Castlegregory farm of the Hennessy family who stored her tack, saddlebags and camping gear, picking up where she had left off with another pony Dingle Peggy more used to pulling a gig than embarking on a marathon ride. Peggy turned out to be a great companion, calm, trustworthy, resilient, and wise, helping Bradt to find her resolve again. The pair became the best of companions.
They journeyed on, meeting âwonderful hospitable peopleâ, only once ever asked to pay for camping and the ponyâs grass â that was near Bantry in Co Cork - enjoying the contrast of the coast and inland Ireland of Cork, Waterford and Tipperaryâ. In 2012 Bradt published the story of Connemara Mollie and a year later the second part of her journey with the tragic ponyâs successor, Dingle Peggy appeared in a separate volume. Now she has brought out an updated volume that includes the early tales and cultural history, new narrative, photos, and maps of her trip â A Connemara Journeyâ, a highly enjoyable romp through an Ireland many are re-visiting or exploring for the first time during the upsurge in staycations due to the COVID 19 pandemic.
âAfter nearly 60 years of travel, this Journey through Ireland with Mollie and Peggy was the most adventurous travels Iâd ever done, the one that changed me most,â Hilary Bradt says; â I learned that I could be on my own and also that I could cope with this huge disaster of Mollie dying; It hadnât been that long since my divorce that had left me very insecure and raw; By the end of this journey I had much more self-confidence; that probably helped me to run a successful businessâ.
âThe generosity of the Irish, the incredible hospitality shown everywhere, the beauty of the countryside made it so magical and special. When I got back home to England and heard an Irish accent I gravitated towards the person, sometimes beggars and homeless people: âoh youâre Irish, Iâd sayâŠI was so pleased to hear the accent againâ.
Hilary returned to Ireland in 2013 learning that Dingle Peggy lived until she was 30, âa good age for a ponyâ. She went in search of some of those she met years earlier. âIt was so lovely to meet Beth OâShea aged 84 in Castlemaine, Co Kerry, wife of the blacksmith Dinny. I also visited Peader, Dingle Peggyâs owner; I regret not having ever gone back to see Peggy, but I thought it would be upsetting to do so. Now I would love to hear from anyone who remembers meeting a lone middle-aged Englishwoman riding a pony laden with saddlebags all those years agoâ.
The writer who turns 80 this year, has no plans to stop. She recently co-authored a Bradt guide to the Yemeni island of Socotra. When travel resumes she plans to go hiking in Turkey and return to one of her favourite places, the Falkland Islands.
