Irish summer(!)
Perhaps this time though, because I’d been more than adequately reminded of them before we even traveled, I was sorry to leave after a week that was always going to be too short.
A quick towel dry to get temperatures up again and then he’d run in again, laughing and cackling manically and he splashed, kicked, splashed and kicked again. When he was done with that, he’d throw sand into the sea, then stones.
The seagull evidently didn’t trust me and flew off.
The young fella was the only one naked on any of the beaches we visited. Evidently FKK isn’t a hit in Ireland, not even among the really little kids. Perhaps the Catholic Church’s activities have conditioned parents to cover their children up lest any lecherous priests be wandering around.
There were warnings on the telly and radio about “forest fires” – as if there were any forests left in Ireland – as well as warnings due to the “heatwave” which never hit 30C.
Evidently nobody left in Ireland – none of the weather forecasters at least – have ever travelled outside the country to gain a bit of perspective on what summers are supposed to be like. Rainwashed or brainwashed.
The young lad thought Helen’s kettle was very loud (as you can see to the right) but that was his only complaint.
And though I didn’t meet all the people I wanted to, it was a success for the sheer pleasure I gathered from those I did. I was humbled to meet Eoghan again and see how positive and cheerful he remains despite all he’s been going through and all he faces on a daily basis. He’s an example for anyone who feels within rights to complain about trivialities.
I missed Sully, who bogged off to Cork for the one weekend we were there, and Noddy, who’d already bogged off to Australia but whose presence was and is sorely missed.
Even the young fella asked for Noddy when we called up to the house to see his folks.
“No! Where’s Noddy?” he’d ask again.
It’s not that you forget about people when you move away, but you come to appreciate all the more what you miss. The people are Ireland’s greatest resource. It’s just a shame the gobshites in charge are squandering them all away.
But we’ll be back of course, for more happy occasions and memories you cherish even as they’re being made. ‘Twas good to be home.
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