Heat shimmers on the ocean and the ferry pulls away from the land and dolphins dive the length of Lough Ryan only to disappear when we reach the wide-open Irish Sea. Once docked, I drive to the Antrim coast, arriving before dark, dizzy from not having drunk enough water on the journey and I fall … Continue reading July Holidays
You would think I would have learned by now to temper my expectations. That, being from these parts, I’d have fashioned my character from stronger stuff. How I wish I had mastered the ability to rise above the suspended ceiling of grey, grim damp haze that has fallen in. By the hour I try in … Continue reading Please Stop Raining
I write this propped up in a strange bed. Four days strange, but welcoming, comfortable, quiet, and enveloping with its yellow sunflower bedcover. It’s my holiday haven. I look around and try to notice everything about being here, as it will soon be over, these moments gone, unlikely to be repeated. I still myself to … Continue reading This Moment
Slow travel: there’s a lot to be said for it, taking one’s time to get from there to here so that your head and your heart can keep pace with your body; so that the emotional you and the physical you arrive as one to your destination. My first stop is on the other side … Continue reading Never Been Gone
‘That's the trouble with reality, it's taken far too seriously.’ It’s a line from a song that’s trapped in my head, dancing around in there as I encourage its sentiment to take root. Back in the nineties an Irish band called An Emotional Fish had a hit song, ‘Celebrate’ and that’s what the line is … Continue reading The Trouble With Reality
I re-watched ‘Before Sunrise’ recently. It’s the first in a trilogy of films by Richard Linklater, each set (and filmed) ten years apart. In the first film (set in the mid-nineties), a young couple meet on a train and, in a spontaneous gesture of youthful foolishness and adventure, disembark at Vienna and stay up all … Continue reading Girls On Trains
No matter how much I cull my packing when I go on holiday, I always bring too much. I’m getting better, but I am slow to learn that three weeks away does not mean three times the clothes; really it doesn’t (emphasis for my own sake). And, since I’ve been abroad, not once have I thought, … Continue reading Attachment
We’ve woken up to rain: short, sharp, and torrential. It won't stay for long, but it’s so lovely to hear. How quickly one changes one’s tune! How is it that Scottish rain on a dreich February day doesn't carry this musical and welcome sound? Because there is every possibility that it won’t cease until March or … Continue reading Rain, Heron, Loon
I bumped into S. on my morning walk to Life of Pie (Canadian salute to the wonderful Yann Martel) where I go for my morning coffee and to get online. “Of course,” S. nodded when I told her about my routine, “there’s no wifi where you’re staying.” No, there isn’t. And after the initial jitteriness of feeling … Continue reading My Secret Place
Holiday? Did I say something about lying on a sun-lounger, drinking sangria and lazily soaking in the holiday sun? I take it all back! I have been mugged, mobbed and molested by my Spanish-Irish friend’s three children. Let me think: F. is a fearless eight year-old, S. is spirited and six, and A. is three, an … Continue reading It’s Always Ourselves We Find In The Sea
My Edinburgh Press 