Search Results for 'Frances'

Welcome to Ireland’s Love Club, a revolutionary approach to dating - where together, we will create a platform that will change dating forever.

Welcome to Ireland’s Love Club, a revolutionary approach to dating - where together, we will create a platform that will change dating forever.

Welcome to Ireland’s Love Club, a revolutionary approach to dating - where together, we will create a platform that will change dating forever.

On the subway young Frances finds an expensive looking designer handbag. Rather than just handing it in to the police she decides to track down the owner herself. She manages to return the bag to Greta.

TOWN HALL Theatre audiences are in for a treat next week when Fly Me To The Moon by Marie Jones, author of smash hits like Stones In His Pockets and Women On The Verge of HRT, comes to Galway.

A Beezneez Theatre Company visit to Roscommon Arts Centre is always welcome but when they grace the stage with a revival of what many consider to be John McDwyer’s finest play, it is a visit not to be missed.

Isabella Augusta Persse (later Lady Gregory), grew up in Roxborough House, Co Galway, a large rambling estate house, with magnificent gardens, commanding some 18,000 acres over which her father Dudley Persse presided with almost feudal authority. His 13 children knew their wheel-chaired bound father as The Master.*

This was Seapoint Corner c1865. The buildings we see, running from the left, are Prospect Lodge; Corrig View; Elm View; Prairie House with the balcony, which was built 1855-1861 by Colman O’Donohoe who had obviously spent some time in America; Beachmount; Villa Marina, which had the sign Michael Horan, Grocer over the door; Sunnyside Lodge; Seapoint House; then a gap which led into Seapoint Terrace; and finally, the thatched building which was George Fallon’s Baths. The sign on his gable read Hot Baths and Bathing, No Refunds and his family operated the baths business at least from 1855 to 1894

Even the master of intrigue himself, John le Carré, would have been mystified at the bizarre challenges the late Labhrás Ó Nualláin was presented with when he applied for a lectureship in economics, commerce and accountancy (through Irish) at University College Galway in 1953.