Foxford and the Airbnb

When we were making bookings for this trip, we were not able to find any lodging in Swinford, County Mayo, the next stop on our ancestral emigrants tour. So we booked an Airbnb unit in Foxford, about eight miles away.

So on the afternoon of Saturday, August 3, we were directed to the car park next to Tiernan Brothers Fish & Tackle:

Photo from Internet

The Tiernan Brothers are experts at angling on the River Moy:

We parked in the car park, were greeted by Nick, who led us to this building and a very steep staircase. The place is supposedly called Moy Lodge, but when I search for it online, I get a very different place of the same name that is also in Foxford--!?

Here is our room:

There is also a very narrow bed and a large wardrobe in the room. The bathroom door doesn't stay closed; the sink emits only a trickle of water. No TV, no teakettle; however, we found out later that we could have used the downstairs kitchen. Here is the view from the window:

There are no true restaurants in town, so we had to drive back to Swinford for dinner.

BUT! The Foxford Woollen Mills is just down the street. Sister Agnes (who you should read about; what a pistol!) started the Mill in 1892 (first called Providence Woollen Mill), and made sure that at least one person from every family in the town had a job there, even though she could often be a tough taskmaster. Nowadays the Mills still make all their merchandise in the original building, and sell it worldwide. They give a wonderful tour, and have a cafe and a fun shop. The building's exterior is rather blah and is not a good advertisement for the goodies inside:

Our adventures in Foxford were not yet over. On Sunday morning, Matt went down the street to the one open shop to get us some coffee. He locked the door to our room on his way out using a key like this one:

Photo from the Internet

When he returned, the key would not open the lock. In other words, I was locked into the room. After inventorying my food, water, and bathroom resources, I sat on the narrow bed and watched this scene for maybe ten minutes. The bottom latch would move in and out, but the top latch wouldn't budge:

Luckily, Nick was available and has an electric screwdriver. And when that didn't work, he used a crowbar to bend the lock out of the door frame.

And thus, we were able to continue our journey.