‘Look Mammy, Theres a Swami on that Hilltop’
The days are flying by on my little island in the Atlantic. They seem to blur into one big cleaning fest. Though this week G (man who knows all regarding hostel and workings) has a week off so my responsibilites have grown to include more than just cleaning toilets. I now have the joyous task of manning the office and taking bookings and getting myself into a right little mess. Nothing too serious yet, though I dread the day when 100 angry tourists arrive in the foyer banging on my little office window and all demanding of me the one free room I have inexplicably and considerably overbooked. Hopefully the window is bulletproof – or rockproof as is more likely to be the case here, the hostel being surrounded by rocks – they’ll have ammunition readily on hand.
Last week before G left I did have the afternoons off and took the opportunity to visit Dun Aengus fort – the main tourist drawcard on the island. I know I wouldn’t ever be able to consider myself a real Aran Island hostel worker without having seen it. Dun Aengus (Dun Aonghasa) sits above the cliffs on the southwest side of the island. It consists of three ringwalls and lots of rocks. It’s not too small and was built by some people a long time ago. I didnt read the tourist information but I definitely saw three rings and lots of rocks – and someone definitely built it.
A and I timed it right arriving as the tour buses were leaving so there werent too many people around, giving us opportunity to take some cheesy tourist photos. Its a nice enough fort as far as forts go and rather impressive in terms of structure and theres a really effective outer ring of spikey rocks dug into the ground, sticking up like broken glass to impale the invaders – thats cool, but I dont like it nearly as much as I do the ‘Black Fort’ – the humbler and less frequented fort down the coast. The security guard, steel gates and entrance fee at Dun Aengus detract somewhat from the magic of the
place. We walked back along the coast road on the opposite side of the island hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive seals said to chill out on the rocks, but there were no seals. This is the third time there were no seals. There were rocks that looked like seals….maybe thats what everyones going on about. But its a nice 1 1/2 hour walk anyway and we passed a beautiful little turquoise beach down the coast that I’ll have to go back to.
The weather on that day and most of last week was totally summery. Blue skies and sunshine give this island life. Its a good feeling to wake in the morning and see blue sky out the window, despite the fact that it can change so quickly here. I woke up the other morning and looked in the mirror suprised to find a slightly redder version of myself looking back. An afternoon in the sun had left me sunburnt – every Irish person’s dream, and the promise of summer to come I hope. That was the afternoon I wandered into the wilderness behind the hostel. The hostel sits on the edge of the main road atop the island and behind it the desolate rocky landscape typical of the island stretches right out to meet the cliffs on the otherside of Inishmore. There’s probably two kilometres of nothing but tussock and grey limestone divided into grids by old stone walls between the hostel and the Atlantic Ocean.
I found myself a nice flat plateau just out of sight of the hostel overlooking the village of Kilronan. I sat on my flat rock, looking out across the water towards the coast of Ireland with the ‘Twelve Pins’ of Connemara clear in the distance and I wondered how I came to be here on this particular island and how it will change me. I discarded my shoes and took the lotus position, let loose my dreadlocks of peace and began to compile my doctrine. Let all who follow it be blessed with many chocolates. Gifts, donations and letters of utter adoration may be sent to:
Swami Em
On the Hilltop
Inishmore
After my spiritual transformation I lay back and watched the clouds crossing the blue blue sky, as everyone should now and then. There be some interesting things in them there clouds. I dont know if the psychology behind it has any relation to Rorschach inkblots but I saw a monkey gnawing off its own leg, a naked discus thrower, and a chipmunk in a robinhood costume -make of that what you will.
Such is the life of a hostel worker – its a tough job but someones gotta do it right?
Apart from being blessed last week with the Eternal Sunshine (and my appointment as Swami of the Hilltop), I also received my first two paychecks. Each one says EURO on it several times. And my name with a substantial amount of the aforementioned EUROs assigned to it. And so on Wednesday I went down to the Inishmore Bank, because Wednesday is the only day the bank is open on Inishmore, and now I have a brand spanking new Bank of Ireland account with EUROs in it. Much as I do love cleaning, I love EUROs more.
Tags: Travel
Em
Oh Swami Em – bless me for tomorrow as I undertake the great physical battle that is the union of rugby so that I do not become peter-the-amputee or peter-the-ugly. Though we are bound in spirit, please make it so that gushings of my blood are not offered to thee, great Swami. I will take the monkey-eating-leg vision as a sign of your divine will and purpose for our followers of the union of rugby. Much gnawing of legs and monkey dancing inspired by your greatness shall brought forth upon the 100 metre plain. Oh great Swami, I am blessed even to be able to type to you – such labour is such sweet blessing. Igoraveedomby.
My maimed child, Swami Em hears your pitiful cries. The battle you speak of will not be an easy path. There will be much bloodshed and gnashing of teeth. May the great Leg Gnawing Monkey in the Sky have mercy on you and not smote you from this earth, for you are but an insignificant flea in his glorious monkey hair. It is only by his divine compassion that you live and thus I allow you these three blessings as you go forth into the union of Rugby. May your fingers number ten for all of your enduring days in the Great Battle. May your ears take not the form of any known vegetable on earth. May those around you not suffer at the sight of your maimedness.
Go in peace my child, and may you kick some ass for the great monkey in the sky.
Oh great Swami Em (on the hill etc etc…)
I come to bear witness to the great physical battle which child Pete earned the blessings of the Great Monkey. It is for child Pete to verify the for mentioned blessings, but as I was in the physical plain where by the regional calling code is 07. I can say that child Pete thrust his body on his mighty foes, using his head as a battering ram and propelled by his golden shoes, he did come within a metre of violating the heathens special territory. Oh Great Swami Em (on the hill etc etc….) may this humble child also receive the blessings of the great monkey?
No.
Oh alright then. Though your impertenence is great, I sense the monkey in you is strong. Thus, Winitana I bless you:
May your monkey hair grow long and thick and may all those around you long to touch it. Wear the jumper the Great Monkey has given you with pride my son, blessed be the hairy for they shall never go naked.
You are all retarded
Everybody sing… “Let’s get retarded in here!!”
Quite wierd. Have not heard that word in quite a while, without any dancing and other shinanagins going on… Well done, Ro.
Thanks Nardz