Youghal

Merrick's Drapery & Boot Stores, Youghal, Co. Cork · December 10th 1968 · Photographer: James P O'Dea · Colourised and enhanced by Kieran McCarthy · YoughalOnline ... See MoreSee Less

Why Cork Should Go the Whole Hog and Rename the Airport After Rory Gallagher - By Michael Hussey

Last week’s unveiling of “Rory Gallagher Avenue” at Cork Airport was, for many, a touching tribute to one of Ireland’s greatest musical sons. As a lifelong fan and someone who had the privilege of seeing Rory perform live in Cork City Hall, I was delighted to see his name in lights once again. Yet, as the dust settles on the ceremony and the social media “hullabaloo” fades, I can’t help but feel that this gesture, while heartfelt, falls short of truly honouring the late, great guitarist’s legacy.

Let’s be honest: naming an avenue after Rory Gallagher is nice, but for a man of his stature, it’s more than a bit twee. Rory was not just a local hero; he was, and remains, an international icon who put Cork on the musical map. His influence stretches far beyond the city’s borders, touching the lives of fans from Youghal to Yokohama.

A LESSON FROM LIVERPOOL
If we look across the Irish Sea, we see how Liverpool has embraced its musical heritage. The decision to rename their airport “Liverpool John Lennon Airport” was more than a nod to nostalgia. It was a bold statement that has paid dividends, both culturally and economically. The airport is now a beacon for Beatles fans worldwide, generating an estimated £340 million annually for the city region, with a significant slice of that directly linked to Beatles tourism.

The Beatles’ legacy brings in 1–2 million visitors each year, supports thousands of jobs, and has cemented Liverpool’s reputation as a city of music. While Rory Gallagher may not have sold as many records as the Fab Four, his legacy is no less important to Cork and to Irish music as a whole.

RORY’S ROOTS RUN DEEP
Rory Gallagher’s connection to Cork is profound. He lived above his grandmother’s pub on MacCurtain Street, jammed with friends in Youghal, and began his international journeys from Cork Airport itself. His music library and bronze memorial sculpture in the city centre are testament to his enduring influence, as are the annual festivals that draw fans from all over the globe.

Rory was a trailblazer, a unifying figure in Irish rock, and a true ambassador for Cork. To this day, his music continues to inspire new generations of musicians and fans alike.

THE CASE FOR “CORK RORY GALLAGHER AIRPORT”
Renaming Cork Airport after Rory Gallagher would be far more than a symbolic gesture. It would be a powerful act of recognition, putting Cork on the global stage as a city that celebrates its cultural icons. The economic benefits could be substantial: music tourism is big business, and with the right branding, Cork could attract fans from across Europe and beyond, eager to walk in Rory’s footsteps.
Hotels, restaurants, and local businesses would all benefit from increased visitor numbers, especially during festivals and commemorative events. More importantly, it would give Cork a unique identity, much as Liverpool has done with John Lennon.

TIME TO THINK BIG
While “Rory Gallagher Avenue” is a step in the right direction, it’s time for Cork to think bigger and bolder. Renaming the airport “Cork Rory Gallagher Airport” would be a fitting tribute to a man who gave so much to this city and to the world. It would be a daily reminder to locals and visitors alike of Cork’s rich musical heritage and its willingness to honour those who have shaped its story.
It’s time to go the whole hog. Rory deserves nothing less.

Image: “Cork Rory Gallagher Airport" - what the airport might look like with the Red and White colours of Cork. Graphic: Youghalonline
#RoryGallagher
#corkrorygallagherairport ... See MoreSee Less

Youghal Misses Out on Cork’s €1bn Rail Revolution

Article by: Kieran McCarthy 👇

Youghal has been overlooked in Irish Rail’s massive €1 billion+ Cork Area Commuter Rail (CACR) plan, a tough blow that could impact the town’s economy, tourism, and future. While over €1 billion is being funneled into eight new stations like Blarney, Tivoli, and Carrigtwohill West, Youghal gets nothing.

Why This Hurts Youghal
No Commuter Link: Youghal residents face long, clogged drives on the N25 to Cork. A train could cut commute times and open jobs, but the town stays cut off.

Tourism Hit: Youghal’s beaches, medieval walls, and history draw visitors, but without rail, it can’t compete with Cobh or Midleton, that have high passenger numbers yearly. Tourists might skip us.

Economic Lag: Nearby towns with rail are booming. Youghal risks falling further behind without new residents or businesses.

The Greenway
Instead of rail, Youghal got the Midleton to Youghal Greenway, a 23km path opened in 2024, expected to draw 250,000 visitors.The greenway is great for bringing cyclists and walkers, but it’s not a replacement for a train service.

Time to Have Your Say
Irish Rail’s public consultation starts today, Wednesday, June 18, 2025. This is your chance to demand a train line.

New platforms, twin-tracking, and electrification are transforming Cork, but Youghal’s left out. The consultation period is now open until Wednesday, 23rd July. Your opinions are key to shaping the project’s design and deciding the CACR preferred option.

You can submit your feedback by 5pm on Friday, 18th July 2025, and help ensure Youghal’s voice is heard. A Public Consultation No.1 Feedback Report will summarise all feedback received.

Youghal deserves better. Should we fight for our train line? Share your thoughts.

Links to feedback form and further info links below in comment box 👇 ... See MoreSee Less

BONO: STORIES OF SURRENDER | Review by MICHAEL TWOMEY

Director: Andrew Dominik

1hr 26mins

There is an old joke about David Bowie that when he died he was stopped at the gates of Heaven by Saint Peter who told him they had a problem. When the star asked what the issue was, Peter mumbled, ‘God thinks he's David Bowie’. One might imagine a similar issue arising when Bono meets his end with Peter confessing, ‘We have a problem, you think you are God’. Bono is of course an easy target because his ego is so large, shoot from any distance and your darts will land. Being your own worst enemy is a perversity that the over-earnest singer wears with pride and it is in full garish display in the film adaptation of his autobiography: Stories of Surrender.

Though it presents itself as a heart on sleeve, Bono- bares-his soul retelling of his personal relationships, it feels more like a Disney edit of a Grimm fairytale about a boy who became king. That’s not to say that there are not good moments. The suffocating close ups are relieved by a number of fresh interpretations of U2’s most famous songs. The song choices are woven in tandem with the tale of Bono’s journey from frustrated, bereaved teen to wise old father figure. The telling of the story is delivered on a sparsely lit stage, Bono’s movements followed by a single light. He is backed by a small ensemble, a table and some chairs that in turn represent the most important people in his life. The theatrical setting is completed by a live audience. Stories of Surrender is a love letter from Paul Hewson to Bono.

The beginnings of U2 plays remarkably like a scene from ‘The Commitments’. Apparently, all you need to be the biggest band in the world is for Bono to tell you that you will be the biggest band in the world. He evokes the spirit of Punk on a number of occasions, citing the Ramones as an inspiration but he couldn’t leave it there. He later refers to Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen as ‘children of punk’ in their suspicion and contempt for the entertainment establishment and in a mawkish dollop of over-cooked sentimentality he serves up an unpalatable description of Live Aid as ‘an answer to our punk prayers’, ‘for peace’ he adds.

Punk had no such allusions. Surely he is mixing up his counter revolutionary movements. Live Aid was a hippy prayer where the white, privileged west got to feel pity for the poor black babies of Africa. The inspiration born from reminders of the black baby boxes in Irish pubs where loose change from pints of Carling could be dispensed from drunken consciences to the chime of a global sing-along. Like the patronising lyrics of ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’ or Lennon’s childish ‘Imagine’ the feel-good, music-can-change-the-world mantra sounds hollow and quaint in a world where very little has changed, only the extension of the gap between rich and poor.

Pop stars are not movers and shakers or politicians, nor do they toil for years doing the heavy lifting on the ground like the nurses, doctors, teachers and volunteers you will never hear about. Time and truth have not been kind to Live Aid and it is telling that Bono, for a brief moment, confesses that the money raised had little effect on hunger in Ethiopia. Not that the failing is the point, more the naivety of misrepresenting the people of Africa while basking in the glory of near canonisation for their efforts.

To his credit, Bono also touches on the subject of being a rich rock-star hypocrite but volleys the accusation into touch by asking, ‘Does it really matter in the end?’ He says it’s not the motivation but the outcomes that count. Conveniently, he leaves out the methodology. Much of what he discusses in the performance around his activism is a paper-thin analysis rather than honest appraisal, giving a sort of passive-aggressive hands off to criticism.

Bono’s protest singer persona has always felt like a teenager who came to the adults’ party when it was already over. He wanted to be Lennon, Marley, Strummer and Springsteen. He wanted to be the voice of a generation. Unfortunately for him the stadium rock grandiosity of the 80s was no platform for protest singing. He was a decade late and an audience short. The Thatcher yuppies and MTV kids had status envy where rock n roll was about rubbing shoulders with Princess Di, shooting videos in the Bahamas and wearing yacht shoes.

There is a desperation to be understood or even liked or perhaps forgiven in Stories of Surrender. Like the protagonist, the story is bloated and over ambitious by an insistence to fit everything in. The editing is clunky in parts and leaves one wondering if the live show is a more authentic experience. All that said, Bono’s performance is at its most sincere when retelling conversations with his father. The minimalist stage setting enhances the intimacy of the stories and the dynamics between a grieving, cynical stoic and a young idealist feel very real. There is genuine warmth, humour, tragedy and love in the anecdotes. It almost has a Pinter or Beckett quality to it, if only the less is more concept could have been applied overall. With the exception of his father, Bono chases too many demons and praises too many angels in this narrative for any one of them to be memorable or garner empathy (even God gets a look in at the start but is soon forgotten as a thread).

If there is redemption it comes when Bono admits that he struggles to surrender to anyone, his bandmates and even his wife, which makes the title of the film feel contradictory. The real issue, at least for the public figure and global activist/rock star, is that Bono struggles to surrender to himself, to Paul Hewson. He has worn his ego like a suit of armour but for many, even fans of his music, it has too often taken on the appearance of a straight jacket. This film goes some way to loosening the straps but not far enough to allow humility to break out. ... See MoreSee Less

TONIGHT:🎵 Sinéad McCarthy Band live at Hennessy's Bar, Youghal Saturday 14th June at 10PM. Hits from the decades + modern classics. Sinéad McCarthy (vocals) | Simon Daly (guitar) | Brian Hyland (bass) | Kieran McCarthy (drums) ... See MoreSee Less