Broadcasts from the In-Between

Tayto vs Tayto (choose wisely…)

Border towns are mysterious little places. Separated by an invisible forcefield, life continues unfazed. Until you realise that no-one else checks the weather on one tab and the euro-sterling exchange rate on another before heading out for the day. Umbrella? Check (it'll not rain now that you have it with you!). Punt purse? Check. No-one else is doing mental arithmetic in the queue for Penneys — or Primark, depending on which side of Kilnasaggart Road you are standing on — to buy a pack of socks. No-one with an ounce of sanity should have to convert the speed limits from mph to km/h four times along the N54/A3.

Butter in the Pocket, Pigs in the Cart

It's shocking it has taken me this long to mention Michael J Murphy. A South Armagh legend: writer, folklorist, photographer, broadcaster and socialist republican. His book Mountain Year is my Gideon. I suppose I would be the equivalent of a Belieber or a Swiftie for Murphy, a Murph-inator, perhaps. I will surely bump into him again on the back roads of Dromintee. Until then, I'll settle for a clip from the Digital Film Archive I first came across during the Michael J Murphy Winter School 2024.

Rate Advice — Welcome to Alltar

Although we aren't smuggling with a pony and cart anymore, the roads are still there. One minute you are in one world; lean too far and you might fall into the next. We don't have a cool trick like the Coriolis Effect water demonstration at the equator. The closest we get is a 'Rate Advice — Welcome to Ireland' text. Would be useful to know when you've slipped into the Alltar.

I first came across this idea of Ceantar vs Alltar in Manchán Magan's book 32 Words for Field. Ceantar being the word for area, region, locality: Alltar meaning the 'otherworld' — the netherworld.

Much like standing at the far window of your kitchen and getting your 'Welcome to Ireland' text, you could slip through one of the thin points in the veil between this and the one parallel to it. Liminal places like sources of water, crossroads and certain times of the year/day the veil is thin enough for our worlds to briefly collide. But have you ever considered maybe it is us who are the 'other' to them? I am sure Manannán Mac Lir got just as much a fright seeing Bran sail his boat through a flowering meadow as Bran did seeing Manannán and his chariot riding the waves.

Boycie's Television Satellite Aerial Receiver

Maybe that's all the in-between is. Fuel prices displayed in both currencies, only one relevant to you depending on which direction you came from.

Maybe we, here in the Ceantar, can orient our TV aerials towards the Black Mountain RTÉ mast to pick up broadcasts from the great beyond, revealing our household as Alltar sympathisers. Or maybe just a bit of Gay Byrne on the Late Late Show.