Ennis Book Festival

I went to Ennis book festival with my Sunday book club last month. It’s a book festival aimed at book clubs. They know what side their bread is buttered on.

Friday March 6, 2026

I had a cold all week and woke up on Friday morning, sick as a dog. A wiser person would have cancelled at that point. Am I a wiser person? I think we both know the answer to that. I took the train down, snuffling the while. Ennis is in Co. Clare and, if you knew the geography of Ireland at all, you probably wouldn’t go there via Co. Galway but that was the train route that was available at the time I wanted and I took it. It was long. As we were outside Athenry, I saw this from the train window.

The “Fields of Athenry” were not quite what I was expecting.

The train journey was uneventful except for my belief that I might die. I went through several packets of tissues. It was awful. Not helped at all by a group of women up the train who, in contrast to everyone else in the carriage , were having a grand loud chat, had lots of opinions (not all of which I agreed with, is Malta really only for pensioners?) and generally drove me bananas.

I had a surreptitious look at them when we were changing trains – they looked like me and my friends. Do you know how the people you dislike the most are the ones who other people might think are like you but you know are very, very different. The narcissism of small difference is the expression I’m reaching for. I found it ominous that they too were going to Ennis.

I was amused to see this poster at the entrance to the railway station when I arrived. I’m not sure I would be bigging up my links to the West Clare Railway.

Ennis itself is really delightful. It’s like some kind of platonic ideal of an Irish market town. The centre is largely car free though this does lead to the outskirts of the town being basically several big car parks. Public transport in Co. Clare doesn’t seem to be what it might be.

I crawled into bed when I got to the hotel. For reasons that were unclear to me, I was upgraded to a suite in the slightly old-fashioned but perfectly acceptable hotel. Just as well because (spoiler alert), that was mostly where I was going to be for the weekend.

The others arrived and the whatsapp was full of discussions of dinner in the bar – one of our number had just arrived from Luxembourg and I was keen to hear her news – but I knew my limitations and ordered room service. Ominously, although the steak sandwich was excellent, I didn’t fancy eating it and only had a couple of mouthfuls before retiring again. I then spent the night throwing up. Between the cold and the food poisoning (or could it have been norovirus, if so I am very sorry for the mostly elderly people on the train whom I may have taken out), I thought my final hour had come. It was unbelievably miserable.

Saturday March 7, 2026

I got up and had a shower. Something of a triumph. I went downstairs for breakfast and had some unbuttered toast and tea forswearing the delights of the breakfast buffet.

We had a book quiz to partake in as part of the festivities. I was disgusted but unsurprised to see my nemeses from the train at another table. This, however, only added to my delight when we won the quiz (€25 book voucher each) though. And I didn’t throw up. I was thrilled but still a bit delicate and constantly blowing my nose. We had a terrible team name (forgotten) and when explaining this subequently to my loving family they suggested we should have been called “Pride and haven’t read this” and I respectfully submit this to you in case it might be of use to you some day.

We went to a session with Cecilia Ahern and Bryan Dobson where each of them recommended and spoke about five recommended books. I really took to Cecilia Ahern (none of whose books I have yet read but I might) but that view was not universal in the group. Anyhow, if you’re interested, these are their recommended books.

We all went for lunch but that was a mistake on my part and having thrown up my lunch I left the group and went back to bed while they went off to explore the town. I regretted the necessity of skipping this adventure but I just had to go back to my sick bed.

Revived by an afternoon in bed I went to a session in the hotel on historical fiction with Andrew Miller, Sarah Waters and Nuala O’Connor which was interesting and quite enjoyable and, best of all, I started to feel a little hungry.

We had booked dinner in a nice restaurant – the Old Town Hall – should you fancy a nice dinner in Ennis, I can recommend. Most of the speakers seemed to be staying in the hotel upstairs and, indeed, Andrew Miller was peacefully eating and reading his book at the table behind us. I ate an entire dinner, I didn’t throw up. Sadly, I still felt a bit under the weather and retired early leaving the others happily chatting over dessert. Truly the lot of the invalid is not a happy one.

Sunday 8 March

I woke up feeling, to be honest for the first time since the previous Monday, really quite a bit better. Unlike my travelling companions I was still unable to face the full Irish breakfast but I had toast with butter and marmalade which represented a real improvement.

The last thing I went to see was a live recording of the radio show Sunday Miscellany. Many, many people are Sunday Miscellany fans and it sounds like the kind of thing I would like but it’s not. I’m not really a big listener to live radio and somehow it only really fits on a Sunday morning – it’s a bit of new writing read aloud and some music – generally pretty soothing but not for me. I only went along because some of the others were going. I don’t know whether it was my rapidly advancing recovery or the impact of live music and live reading (I am generally not a huge fan of live music though, I know myself to be a philistine* in this regard) but I found it absolutely enthralling, it was my highlight of the weekend. If you wish you may listen back here and here (they divided it into 2 shows). I expect it is not as good to listen back to as it was to listen to in person but there it is.

I then took the train back to Dublin by the more direct route. Should I have gone? On balance, I think probably not. Will I remember this conclusion another time? I doubt it. Would I go to the Ennis book festival again? Certainly.

*Do you ever think about the Philistines and the unfairness of how they are remembered?