JandalsnAll

What a wonderful peaceful lazy day Ive had. Before breakast I took a walk through the misty and rather unpromising morning to a spot along the beginning of the cliffs called Tralacken. I’d been told the secret way to get there (which wasnt terribly secret I must say) as its apparently a favourite swimming spot of the locals in summer. A footworn path leads out from the main track up to the cliffs across to the coast and down over the edge. What I found were rocky terraces in staggered layers reaching down to the water. Down the middle theres a small flow of water creating little waterfalls here and there and I sat beside one of these for a while and watched two stags watching me until I got too cold and had to move again. Its a really pretty spot – it feels like something out of the movies – like there should be mermaids lazing on the rocks…. and singing dancing crabs with little top hats … and rapping fish with the voice of Will Smith- so an animated Disney movie then. I meandered back to the hostel stopping to say hello to R’s donkey in a field nearby. Im not sure why he has a donkey but I will try to slip the question into conversation sometime. But now I finally have an animal friend to give my apple cores to – I used to give them to Brie (puppydog of my heart with strange but healthy eating habits) and everytime Ive eaten an apple here in Ireland Ive had this odd sense of loss and confusion like I just dont know what to do with my apple core. But all is now right in the universe thanks to my donkey friend.

This afternoon I took another walk, this time down to the pier and around the coast to a little bay I’d seen from atop a cliff. The weather had taken a complete turnaround, summer in Ireland finally. The overtold joke in Ireland (just mention the word summer and someones bound to say it) goes ‘ I remember summer last year – it was on a Friday’. Well this year its been on a Monday and a Thursday and thankfully I dont work on a Thursday. So I spent the afternoon lying on a warm rock in the sun like a big fat lizard, on my own little beach. Then I wandered back, stopped in at Magnetic music cafe (the last music cafe for 3000miles apparently – well thats got to be worth a visit if it’ll be 3000 miles before I get another chance) and had a horrible coffee and a delicious piece of cheescake. And then I shopped at the Doolin Deli (the one food store in Doolin) for Mars bars and stamps. Just so you know, the days of tea and scones are over. Now its all Mars bars and cocopops (the stamps are irrelevant). Though I did break down and buy a scone today as well…. Dont you think its strange that NZers say scone as ‘scon’ when they should really say it ‘scone’ like ‘tone’ or ‘phone’ or ‘cone’. I encourage all NZers to start saying scone the way it looks. No matter if you feel silly, speak proud in knowing your interpretation of the ridiculous English language is surely more correct than those heathens who insist that scone rhymes with con.

Speaking of foods that could possibly be had for breakfast, and cons for that matter, on Wednesday I had my first morning working at the B&B down the road – cooking meat for people who eat meat – unlike myself. And I dont think it went at all badly. It was organized it so all I had to do was microwave the precooked sausages and puddings of both black and white variety, grill the bacon and fry the eggs. All of which I did – how well did I do it is the all important question. And to be honest I wouldnt really have a clue. Bacon is supposed to bleed right? But it was okay because my first guinnea pigs were Japanese, so the odds were that, one: they didnt have much traditional Irish breakfast experience to compare with mine, and two: they prefer their food raw anyway.

So I have two and a half days of work a week and the remaining four and a half are more often than not so far, spent in the manner described above. As you can see, its a hard life here in Doolin, and its a suprise I have time to blog at all. But don’t worry I wont let it stop me writing for the people.

The problem with free tea is its always there, whispering to you ‘drink me, driiinnkk meee’ I did go sober for a few days but now Im back on the brown stuff, though I try to keep it to 8 cups a day. And dont mention the scones…

The hostel itself sits quietly on the banks of the Aille River (Aille means delightful) not much more than a simple cottage with two storeys and a patch of grass for camping alongside the river. From what I gather the original building is over 300years old – take a moment to think about that – it was built before NZ technically became a country. Inside theres a kitchen, a cosy living area with two long tables, some benches, a old ironstove fireplace, and two rocking chairs. Now one of the rocking chairs is boring and not very good at its job, its kindof wobbly and rocks backand forth but also side to side as rocking chairs should never do. I triy to avoid this one. BUT the other rocking chair is the best rocking chair chair in the world. It is big and handmade to perfectly fit my behind, has a lovely weight to it and is right in the corner by the fire. AND the best thing? It has been sat in by the obviously very talented Andy Riley, the guy who wrote/drew ‘The Bunny Suicides’ and ‘Return of the Bunny Suicides’ books. So when I sit in it, its kindof like Im sitting in his lap – kindof. Hows that for fame?

In the evenings round the fire is the place to be just to chill out, dry your shoes, get warm, drink tea…..
Highlights in the living area have included: several impromtu traditional Irish music jam session last week with R leading the pack on the guitar, C the fiddle player a guest passing through and A another traveller on the bosouki (spelling?). That was great – no need to go to the pub. The excellent yet rather inappropriate named card game of Shithead has also become a popular pasttime. I learnt it from an Australian, but it seems to be a worldwide phenomenon amoungst travellers, with Germans and Belgians adding their own twist on the game. And despite there being no words for shithead in German or Belgian, its still called the same. Strange. Those travellers who have never heard of it are at first taken aback after asking the name of the game, only to be verbally abused, but they soon give in to its mysterious powers and find themselves playing endlessly.

This weekend is the Irish June bank holiday weekend. I have no idea what these particular holidays are for but they have enough of them. Theres one in May, June, August, October and then they get all the usual holidays too – crazy Irish. Anyway its the time when everyone in Ireland goes away for the weekend and all the accomodation is booked out and things are crazy busy.