the last of the irish roving …for now
So it wasn’t the fourth of July, nor was it eighteen hundred and six and the Blue Bus (or Aircoach, as they call it on the website) drove off rather than set sail, but I left the sweet cove of Cork last Saturday morning at roughly nine am bound for Dublin Airport and home, after four nights in my deeply luxurious and lovely hotel and eleven days away in total – phew! The company, fortunately, was as charming as ever, if occasionally indecipherable, and I arrived back to (sunny, as it turned out) Scarborough with a great deal more spring in my step than the last time I braved the Emerald Isle – a distinct lack of timewasters being replaced by a surfeit of lovely Irish gentlemen from all over the place. I will be back…
Belfast in general (and her fabulous inhabitants in particular) is always a highlight, and the (eventually) beautiful weather coupled with the decision to erect a huge screen showing the Olympics live outside the proudly ring-bedecked City Hall meant I could add picnic-and-sport to my usual morning stroll list of bank-breakfast-pick-up-lunch, and thanks to a quietish day on the Saturday I managed to catch a fair bit of the good stuff, in contrast with the Sunday when I missed everything including lunch, such was the enthusiasm of the local folk to catch me before I set off to Dublin Airport in the morning. Thankfully I had my trusty Cup A Soup and Jamaican Ginger Cake on hand, and I will ensure that I plan a lengthy work trip around the next Olympic Games as I thoroughly enjoyed every single moment I saw.
Having not had any significant amount of free time to explore past the local shops (a worthwhile endeavour in itself in terms of Irish cheese especially), look for a Blarney Stone or even take my regular trip to the pictures – I didn’t have a hot meal from Monday morning until the airport Burger King on Saturday afternoon, ffs – I can’t say a lot more about the People’s Republic of Cork (as I will think of it from now on) apart from that I’m very fond of it even if I do often need it to repeat itself a couple of times and a bit slower, please. I have learned that Graham Norton is from Cork (although he’s long since lost the accent; being gay and Protestant back in the day probably amply explains his not hanging about, at the time, at least) as well as was revolutionary leader Michael Collins, professional gobshite Roy Keane and bizarrely, Danny La Rue – a diverse place indeed. And friendly too!
Back to the present, and following a couple of days much-needed rest and proper meals (defined for the moment as ones containing food that was neither breakfast cereal, nor had been cooked in a hotel kettle) I am very much back on the ball and whilst (as ever when ensconced at home) I have no intention of a busy week, I am not oblivious to the fact that I am off again for two whole weeks from Monday and appointments will be available wherever possible. The Isle of Man beckons, and after last time I may do well to pack a bag of frozen peas along with the extra condoms and spare stockings …at least until I typed the previous sentence which will undoubtedly have jinxed the entire affair; since I have some exciting new reads on my Kindle and might finally get a ride on the steam train (weather permitting) either way I’ll live with it.
Fastforward to Thursday 23rd, when I will be flying to London (City airport, another first for me) for Frightfest – the long awaited 5 day juggernaut of (nearly) non-stop horror film heaven begins at the Empire on Thursday evening with not one or two but three new British films opening proceedings – woohoo! My ever-changing spreadsheet/timetable currently has me down for 25 of the 40+ films; unfortunately my inability to be in two (or three, even) places at once will preclude me from seeing them all; I have ruthlessly crossed all the ones I’ve already seen off the list followed by the ones I’d happily skip anyway, and then the tough part – choosing between clashing showings of things I want to see (mainly by trying to figure out which one I may get a second crack at, with the final decision to be taken on the grounds of which selection allows the most time during changeover for a trip to KFC). Needless to say, appointments are not available for the duration – I’m only spending time with me during a five day horrorfest because I haven’t got much choice.
London proper (punting-wise at least) begins on Tuesday 28th, where I will be back in Victoria avoiding the Jubilee Line (given that the Paralympics will be starting the following day, it seemed like a wise move) and with a couple of days already nearly spoken for, it’s not a bad time to think about getting in touch! Obviously I will not be taking my Work BlackBerry to the pictures with me for fear of being torn asunder by irate (fellow) geeks and rightly so, but all email should be got to reasonably promptly which is why all my ads ask for it; it’s non-immediate, discreet and above all, quiet.
More soon. And anybody with Frightfest passes, look out for me! I might be heading for the same screens, and I can justify eating hot dogs and nachos if somebody else is too…
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