“I forgot the tickets,” he cried in a voice thick with a desperation akin to someone helplessly watching their beloved about to be ploughed into oblivion by a tractor.
“Are you f***ing kidding me?” I ask.
“No,” he says, “I’m serious.”
Seeing as how I can see that he’s very extremely upset with himself, and giving him a ton of abuse isn’t going to do any good, I laugh and satisfy myself with a simple, “I’m sorry, but you’re some f***ing pleb.”
Continue reading “Brotherly Love, Leo Varadkar, & Bruce Springsteen”
Babies and little children look at everything and everyone very closely, shamelessly. Everybody accepts that because they are little kids and they don’t know any better. When you get a bit older you stop looking so closely at other people for fear of being branded a pervert or being thought of as rude. If you stare at someone you perceive as beautiful, the person may feel uncomfortable. If you stare at someone else, that you also perceive as beautiful, but who has a small birthmark, then you might just spark off torrents of insecurity in the person that lead to your being a victim of the person’s subsequent wrath at the perceived attack on their self-confidence. Continue reading “Life Through a Lens”
Traditionally, after descending Croagh Patrick, I always go for fish and chips in P. Dunning’s beside the Octagon. In there I meet the couple from Dunboyne that I mentioned in my previous post. I ask if they mind me joining them, and they don’t.
After a little conversation it transpires that the man, named Pat, is the first cousin of a woman who is married to the former Vice Principal of my secondary school in Galway. Times like this make one realise just how small Ireland is and that you don’t have to look to far to find someone who knows, or is related to, someone else you know. I guess it’s a small island. Continue reading “Westport Town: P.Dunning’s and Matt Molloy’s”
Golden sunshine, dappling through grey clouds, gives off a heavenly aspect which instantly infuses me with a sense of warm spirituality. The mountain is bathed in a clammy heat that makes me perspire as soon as I begin my ascent. I’m here today to capture the essence of Westport, Co Mayo, and I can’t think of any place better to start than with its holy mountain.
Climbing Croagh Patrick was the first thing I ever did the first time I came to Westport. I’ve done it many times, in many ways. I’ve climbed it with friends, alone, with my dog, in the middle of the night of a blue moon, and even barefoot. But today I’m climbing it with a lens so as to fully appreciate and write about it. Continue reading “Croagh Patrick Gold”
Frazzled from not sleeping and bursting for a leak, I arrive at my city centre B+B to a pleasant woman who greets me in a lyrical accent such that makes me think the city could have no better name.
I’m here to capture the city on camera by photographing the marathons, the Riverfest, and the night life. As it stands I’ve missed the start of the marathon and the start of the half-marathon. I hastily organise my camera and bag, punch O’Connell Street into Google maps, and look in horror at the estimation of it being 37 minutes walk to get there. It’s currently 1.50 so I estimate that I have about 15 minutes to get to the finish line to capture the half-marathon winners. Continue reading “Limerick Through A Lens”
The Great Limerick Run today saw 14,000 people take to the streets to undertake the various races of which it is comprised. It includes a full marathon, a half marathon, and a six mile race.
Every runner has their own unique reason to run: some run to win, some run because of peer pressure, some run to raise money for charity, and some run to motivate themselves to shed a few pounds so as to become a slimmer, sexier version of themselves.
There is great support along the route and some spectators observe the goings on while swilling a few cans of cider. I encountered two such supporters along the route who were roaring, encouragingly, “C’mon lads, dig deep, dig deep.” Impressed by this obvious enthusiasm, I asked the men what they thought of the race, to which the swift reply was, “Waste of a good day’s drinking!” This was followed by much guffawing, as if the fellow believed himself to have made a very good joke.
Negative commentaries aside, it is clear that the participants in the race were having a good time with some participants minding their children and catching up with friends while going the distance. It just goes to show that there are in fact enough hours in the day if one is simply good at multitasking, which clearly many Limerick women are.
The full marathon was won by 40 year old Martin Doody from Caherdavin, Co Limerick. The first woman home was Dublin’s Ciara Hickey, with Peter Somba winning the 6 mile race.
It is clear, however, that most participants couldn’t give a fudge about the winners and were merely out to have a good time.
Galway COW news, reporting live from Limerick.