Very soon the longest night will again have us in its grip, and, despite recent positive ruminations on the quiet beauty of Connemara in winter, it's good to know that daylight will soon re-assert itself. In the meantime, any opportunity to be transported to where the sun gives warmth is gratefully accepted.

Galway and The Gambia wouldn't seem to have a lot in common, but they provide the theme of an exhibition of paintings by Gordon D'Arcy, at Roundstone's Stable Gallery. The paintings are the fruits of a three-month trip last winter, from the West of Ireland to the West of Africa.

A large piece of elm proudly displays the amazing beak of the Jabiru – a knobbly-kneed member of the stork family – while the snow-white wings of great egrets stand out dramatically against the pink and purple of a sky seen only in Africa. 'Tubab, Tubab' is the shout favoured by treat-seeking children running through their village after a passing car, (apparently it derives from 'Two Bob, Two Bob!', a relic of bygone British days.) Elsewhere, bats drink from a hidden pool, and majestic fish eagles calmly survey the river for prey. As the December night pressed in on the gallery, these exotic images spirited away those present to a place as different from Connemara as night is from day.

Us humans come a poor second to our winged counterparts when it comes to travelling unaided over distance, and along the way there were numerous sightings of birds who spend their time between our temperate climes and the warmth of Africa. Many sanderlings leave their arctic nests and stop in Ireland before continuing on to spend the winter between the Equator and the Tropic of Cancer. And it's not just airborne species that leave us standing when it comes to long, regular self-propelled journeys, these Atlantic waters playing host to many cetaceans who also spend time around Ireland's coastline.

Following the migratory routes of swallows and terns, and occasionally accompanied by pilot whales and bottlenose dolphins, they made their way to Senegal, Guinea Bissau, and The Gambia, countries with their own distinct flavour, seasoned by European influences. The Portuguese, the French, and the English had their day in one or all of these countries and are now gone, although many traces of their influence still remain.

Parting company with the open ocean, Gordon and his companions took to the river that gives The Gambia its name and life. Ospreys, direct from Scotland and Scandinavia, eyed the adventurers as their boat slowly slipped upstream, the feathered equivalent of the holidaymaker who has already spent a week on the beach and who gets immense satisfaction feeling superior to the new arrivals. No more than a sliver of land on either side of the river, this marvel of colonial map-making was achieved by a British gunboat sailing up the river and firing intermittent shots. The shells' landing place marked out the new border between The Gambia and Senegal.

Many people don't get the chance to see the sun through the winter's 'obstinate curtain of rain', so it's all the better when someone like Gordon derives such obvious pleasure from sharing the memories of his fascinating adventure.

(You can combat the effects of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) with your own vicarious African experience by visiting the exhibition at the Stable Gallery, Errisbeg House, Roundstone until 3rd January 1999. For further details contact Richard de Stacpoole on 095-35834, email marquis@connemara.net). (16/12)

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