No one who has not motored in these days can conceive the dust of the roads...
Ruth Duffin
Young poet documenting social life and travels
On Saturday I started on a motor trip with the Lloyd Campbells “Mr John”. They asked us to go with them on their new motor to Bundoran, but in the end we did not get off till 3 o’clock, so we could not go so far.
It was a glorious day, absolutely cloudless. The route lay through Lisburn, Moira, Lurgan, Armagh, where we stopped on a steep hill to take in petrol, Monaghan, Clones, which we reached at lighting-up time, about 10 o’clock.
We didn’t like the look of the inn there, so, started off in the dark & a cylinder broke just outside the town which necessitated some delays for repairs. Then we went off again through the summer night with the stars just coming out and the most delicious scents of hawthorn & peat smoke in the air, and corncrakes calling in the field.
About three miles out of Enniskillen we saw a cloud of dust ahead & thought it was another motor, but we soon saw six pairs of heels, donkeys as we thought. We did everything we could to overtake them, to slow down and turn them, but all was useless & we only passed them on the bridge into Enniskillen which we reached at 1 am. By this time we were hungry […]
We roused the Royal Hotel with difficulty and procured rooms & supper, cold beef & bread. [No one who has not motored in these days can conceive the dust of the roads! Mrs Campbell & I were like “powdered” ladies & took ages to brush the dust out of our hair].
Listen to her words
