Ireland

"I know him, its Pete!" Exclaimed Barbara as she unexpectedly gripped my arm from her perch on the high stool next to mine. I looked and listened with increased attention to the heartfelt rendering of 'Margarita' by Pete plus guitar at the front of this intimate gathering here in 'Dingle music shop', Southwest Irelands capital of traditional Irish music.

At the end of the concert, and in particular the hauntingly beautiful fiddle playing by well known artist 'Maire Breatnach' (try the cd:- Voyage of Bran) Barbara made a beeline through the crowd and by the time I caught up with her both Pete and herself were, with astonishment, meeting up again eight years on from their last encounter in far off Liverpool.

I love this world I inhabit where Universe and its infinite creative magnitude continually presents unexpected and beautiful moments. A moment where  two people meet up again and discover that previous lost contact was not the imaginary scenario created at the time but instead merely an internet glitch.

I wonder, in this age of communal electronic wizardry, how many times such a 'glitch' ends a supportive, beneficial or indeed loving contact between two people?
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From Dingle to 'Blennerville' and its restored and working windmill. Also, and I feel more importantly, its museum giving the history of emigration & famine. A very familiar theme in both Ireland & Scotland (called the clearances in Scotland and still evident in the empty Glens and hills.) but somehow, here in Ireland, made very 'now' as we continually bumped into Americans back in the 'old country' to see how their recent ancestors lived.

Here's a quote from Stephen De Vere from Limerick. A steerage passenger in 1847 on one of the 'emigree' boats. They became known as coffin ships.

"Hundreds of poor people huddled together without air, without light, wallowing in filth and breathing a fetid atmosphere, sick in heart, dispirited in body. The fevered patients lying between the sound in sleeping spaces so narrow as almost to deny them the power of indulging, by change of position, the natural restlessness of their disease:..... living without food or medicine, except as administered by the hand of casual charity, dying without the voice of spiritual consolation, and buried in the deep without the rites of the church".

Sound familiar? Think Mediterranean refugees happening now. Then, as now, caused by ruling elites, corporations, religions or family's placing greed/profit as a value way above mere human being.

I am reminded of one of my farmer customers in Gloucestershire of many years ago. His greeting was always the same and as true now as ever. His was an old, bent, tough as his stout leather boots body when I dealt with him. As he leaned on his thumb stick and turned his weatherworn cattle dealer face toward me he would say;

"Whaats about then Steve my boy. Keeps goin around dont it".

It certainly seems so. Just round and round and round. Names and technology may change some but the roundabout is still the same.
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Barbara has now flown home with good memories of her Irish visit plus a highly satisfactory rating, agreed by both of us, in regard to living and travelling as a couple in Foxy 10. We were lucky with the weather too. A couple days of heavy rain on the 'Kerry Ring', offset by visiting the 'Skelligs Chocolate Experience', with dry, mild sunshine & cloud the rest of the time.

Highlights:- Overnighting on the edge of 'Muckross Park' Killarney in the middle of a night-long confrontation of rutting and roaring red deer stags.

The 'Skelligs and The Blaskets' visitor centres. Veritable mines of information of a way of life, and of being, desirable in its simplicity and yet awesome in its harshness and isolation.

And finally:- Treasure hunting on the beach with Kaden for mother of pearl shells which Barbara deftly crafted into necklace pendants for Justine, Keith and birthday girl Aunty B.

I will stay on for a time and help out where I can with Grampy sitting duties for my lively but delightful Grandson Kaden.

"Grampy Steve, Grampy Steve. I need a pee, can we go to your motorhome to have a pee. Tanya can come too Grampy Steve".

The fascination of a motorhome chemical toilet with electronic flush eh! Gets em all the time!

"Come on then .... no Kaden, just press the flush button once .... no don't hold it on .... yes OK you can put Tanya on her lead .........".