John Manning is 91 years of age and lives at Inishleena, Inniscarra adjacent the recreational amenity. Like man y other stories in the last number of weeks, his biography is part of the identity of the Lee Valley and the valley is part of who he is. John talked about many aspects of his life on my visit. He talked about memories that he cherishes, past ways of life, change and time. The following is based on his diaries and notes he has taken down through the years. There is so much to be gleamed from his story in particular what influenced and influences his cultural identity.

John Manning, January 2008, Inishleena, Inniscarra, Co. Cork (pictures: Kieran McCarthy)

“I was born at home in Tír na Spideoga, Inchigeela in the early hours of Saturday morning 9th December 1916 and I was baptised in the same afternoon. The christening wouldn't have been a problem for my godmother who was my mam's first cousin was in the house, a day or two before the 'event' and my godfather, who was my Dad's nephew lived only half a mile away. I was christened in the Parochial House, which was in the same townland by the then Parish Priest, a Fr. James O'Leary. I never got a chance to see him, for he was transferred soon after to the Parish of Dunmanway, to fill the vacancy created by the death of Canon Magner who was shot by the Black and Tans in 1921. I was 3 ½ years of age when the Black and Tans came over in the latter months of 1919. A number of them were stationed in the Lake Hotel in Inchigeela. I never saw them for my parents never took me with them when going out. There was always someone at home, to mind the child - a granny or an auntie or even a next door neighbour. My father John was from Inchigeela and my mother was Mary McCarthy from Cappabui on the Bantry side of the Pass of Keimaneigh.

In my youth, I suffered from asthma, and couldn't take part in strenuous games such as hurling or football. So there was nothing for it, but to get on my bike, and take to the open air of the countryside. That suited my lungs and, over the years, I built up a great store of energy However, I was in my forties before I fulfilled my boyhood dream of cycling the length and breadth of Ireland.

At the time, I lived in Inchigeela, and hadn't as yet met my future wife. I got myself a new Raleigh bicycle with the latest Sturmey-Archer three-speed gears, and a few pounds pocket money, (not easy to come by in the 1940's)."And so on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the month of July, John set off on his first trip, an eighty-three mile cycle to Mount Mellery, the monastery on the slopes of the Knockmealdowns, in county Waterford. I caught my first glimpse of the monastery from 'The Cats', a public house on the road to Clogheen, and a welcome sight it was for the weary traveller.