Days of old recalled: courting in a hearse, Babycham and Hoban’s pub
By Tom Gillespie
I HAVE written before about the 1960s hops and dances in the the old tennis pavilion and the town hall in Castlebar.
They were times of innocence, curious teenagers, and discovering young ladies.
Now, as I recalled before, these alcohol-free, thoroughly clerical-supervised functions did not give the hormone infused-young males an opportunity to ‘get to know’ the opposite sex.
You did get the chance to walk your ‘girlfriend’ home if you were not tracked down by the patrolling Fr. Charles O’Malley in his VW Beetle.
But once you got to know his routine, it was easy to take aversive action and get to a few hideouts without being detected.
One such ‘safe place’ was the old Hoban’s car park off Main Street, the entrance to which was gained through an archway where the Paddy Power bookies shop now stands.
To the front was Hoban’s supermarket and pub, which were institutions in Castlebar. The archway could only accommodate one car at a time going either in and out. However, on those days traffic on Main Street was not very heavy and vehicles moved in both directions. There was no one-way system in operation.
To protect the innocent, I will not reveal who accompanied me from the town hall to the car park. Suffice to say she is still with me today.
But parked in the middle of the car park was Thomas Durcan’s funeral hearse, always left unlocked.
The bench seat in the front was ideal for a court, and that’s what you got in those days – if you were lucky.
Over the summer months, when the hops were held in the town hall, the hearse was our great escape until one night Paddy Hoban emerged from the side door of the pub that led on to the car park and discovered the interlopers in the vehicle.
We made a hasty exit and apologised, much to the amusement of businessman Paddy, an entrepreneur of the 1960s in the county town.
Many years later when I joined The Connaught Telegraph, my uncle Bernie Gillespie and news editor John McHale were regulars in Hoban’s pub, where many a good story was concocted, and where I often joined them.
The barmen were the affable Tom Corr, Bruce Plunkett and Mick McHugh. A blazing fire greeted customers in the front bar, which was a hive of activity and where you could get pickled eggs from behind the bar, prepared by the chef in the supermarket which was run by Mrs. Gretta Hoban.
Michael Roche, Mel Gray and Cyril Foy, like most, preferred the front bar. Other regulars were Larry Bourke, Tom Lally, Stan Hynes, Gerry Beirne, Timmy Decay, Mick McHugh Snr, Derek Mandel, Paddy Gannon, Zeb Cunningham, Christy Keane, Pat Gannon, Buttsie Armstrong, John Brennan, Seamus Bourke, Pa Cunningham, Mickey Guthrie, Anthony Kelly, Gerry Deane, Buddy Dowling, Johnny Ruane, Paddy Hynes, Pakie Ruane and Pete Carroll, among many others.
The lounge, with its small semi-circular bar counter and comfortable seats, was mostly reserved for couples who could gain access without having to go through the public bar.
Main Street in those days was a hot bed of activity. Most families lived overhead with their business downstairs.
Where Supermac’s is today once housed the original Italian Cafolla’s restaurant, since relocated to Castle Street.
Mr. Gerardo Cafolla was also a regular in Hoban’s front bar. A hard-working individual who established a unique brand, he would ofter take a break in the afternoon after the lunchtime rush for a drink or two. He became a great friend of Paddy Hoban.
I recall one occasion when one of the patrons, short of cash, tried to tap Mr. Cafolla for a ‘loan’. His reply was classic: "I made an agreement with the bank manager," he declared. "He no sell da chips and I no lend da money." So much for that attempt!
Harp lager was all the rage at the time and the more fashionable folk took it with a dash of lime. Guinness and Smithwick’s were the only other draught products then, unlike today where bar counters are peppered with lager taps from all over the world, from Australian Foster’s to Tiger beer from Singapore.
A pint of ‘special’ – Smithwick's with a Guinness head – was very popular with the men, while Babycham and a 'snowball' were considered best for the ladies. In those days you did not see a young or indeed an older woman with a pint glass in front of her.
It was not long since the ‘snug’ was in vogue where females could get a glass of stout out of sight of their husbands or boyfriends. Today there is still a snug in Johnny McHale's, now occupied by both male and female customers. I remember one in The Bungalow Bar and The Goal Post on Castle Street.
Now, getting back to ladies' tipples. Babycham was the first alcoholic product to be advertised on British commercial television, the campaign being launched in 1957, with the drink originally marketed as a ‘genuine champagne perry’.
A snowball was a mixture of Advocaat and lemonade in approximately equal parts. It may have other ingredients, to taste.
It typically contains a squeeze of fresh lime juice, which was shaken with the Advocaat before pouring into a glass and topping up with lemonade.
Advocaat or 'advocatenborrel' was a traditional Dutch alcoholic beverage made from eggs, sugar and brandy. The rich and creamy drink had a smooth, custard-like flavour and is similar to eggnog.
I recall tasting both and they were disgusting!
Some years later Paddy Hoban’s son, Alan, converted the archway into the car park into a video rental shop which proved very popular.
Today, there is little that remains of the original Hoban’s. In its day the family served Castlebar well, and as you can gather I have great memories of them.