Reflections Part 2

It was wonderfully sunny and cool today with a breeze that rustled my hair into the pleasant disarray of an " I don't have to be at work today" attitude.  I have actually had to move myself indoors to compose this entry because I finally admitted I was cold sitting at the garden table on my back deck.  Now I've plopped myself into my favorite recliner.  I have been quickly joined by Miyagi, our Maine Coon-mix cat who enjoys lying on my legs.  Admittedly his body draped on top of my shins is providing a nice bit of radiant heat and therefore I will resist the urge to move against the somewhat trapped feeling.
 This time last year John and I were anxiously preparing for our first overseas journey together.  Previously, he had been out of the country as an airman.  I traveled to England with Jim, my first husband and Naomi, our daughter in the summer of 1993.  I again visited England in 1994 as part of a healing journey after Jim had taken his life in August of 1993.   Both visits were hosted by our dear English friends, Dennis and Sylvia.
Here it is September of 2011, nearly twenty years since my first big journey and one year since the Lilly trip to Ireland.  I have to admit I truly love the UK and Ireland.  Of course this affection is filtered through a visitor's eyes. My friend Dennis, an English native, has told me on numerous occasions that although he loves to travel there is no place he'd rather live than in England.  The climate suites me.  In fact today's weather here at home brings with it a deep nostalgic feeling that nags at my emotions.  Do you ever feel like you are in the wrong place?  Today I feel that way. Actually I've been suppressing that feeling since returning from Ireland last year.   I've been sitting here remembering what it was like to amble along the streets of Clonakilty and the other towns we visited, taking in the sights and smells, the feel of polished brick walkways, the narrow streets, the flower boxes, ancient stones, church bells, sounds of English spoken in a variety of Irish dialects and the sounds of the Irish language itself, the ocean crashing against craggy coast lines, the creaking of the old wooden floors that are everywhere that there aren't even older stone floors, the sounds of children running and playing in the Emmet Square, music...live music of all sorts oozing out of the doorways of pubs, hotels and squares.  Guitars of all sorts carried by and played by all sorts of people.  The challenge of navigating the road system, the gentle scrape of fuscia against the side of the car as I drive down the teeny tiny twisty rural roads.  Clouds billowing across the skies.  Brief showers that are shut off by the sun as it bursts through and transforms drizzle into glistening honey drops.  The land of hills, stone fences, and dramatically craggy grazing land that only sheep, who dot hillsides like spilled cotton balls, could navigate without tripping. I am sure there are mean people in Ireland but we didn't meet any of them, so I am guessing there just may be a smaller percentage of them.  Go ahead accuse me of wearing rose colored glasses.  I really don't care.  All I know is that the Clonakilty International Guitar Fest is just around the corner and I won't be there.  Sigh.............Perhaps they could use a pottery teacher in Clon? 

Ray Blackwood and I share a wish for world peace

Time to Leave

We both agreed that we'd love to live in Clonakilty and this is why it took us several hours to gather the where with all to actually leave. We made excuses to stroll through town one last time before getting in our Volkswagen Golf rental car and heading out towards Killarney.

Before we left, I steered us into DeBarra's Pub one last time and fortunately the proprietor, Ray Blackwood was there. We got into a pleasant discuss about the history of the pub which has been in Ray's family for a couple of centuries. In fact he was raised in the apartment above. More about that later.

Sunday, The Final Day

It is so difficult to truly describe what it is like to be here in Ireland but I must say if my attitude holds it is going to be difficult to want to return to the States.  I am writing this using our bed as desk while seated on one of the wooden chairs in our room.  We have the window wide open allowing sunshine and a pleasant Irish breeze to fill the spaces around us.  John is gently practicing some mandolin.  So I have musical accompaniment for my literary efforts.
Our first commitment today was actually one that focused upon guitar. I attended Richard's second workshop, where I proved how little time I had spent playing Falling Slowly in the past few weeks. I had run through it a few times recently but I knew I had lost my comfort with the piece. Richard has a different take on the left hand fingerings in some areas and they make more sense then what I had worked out. I plan on incorporating those into my playing of the piece. It is the usual process of breaking one habit to replace it with another. We took advantage of shopping at the Centra shop(a little grocery chain in Ireland) and picked up some survival munchies. I enjoyed eating the Irish Eating Apple that I chose to include in my treats.
Later in the evening we attended a concert by John Spillane, John and I tremendously enjoyed this powerful performer who plays guitar and sings in both English and Irish. It was an education and when the concert wrapped up I made a point of complimenting John and thanking him for teaching this American a little about Irish music and attitudes.

Front of our Hotel

Playing "Dance" in our hotel room

We have arrived in Clonakilty

Wow it was truly an adventure today.  I managed to get us from Dublin to Clonakilty and I don't think I did any damage to the car, maybe a few brush scratches.  These roads are wild!  Narrow and twisting like a deranged python.  They invite aggressive shifting, slowing as you approach a corner then accelerating powerfully as you pull out of the corner.  A corner that wasn't blind was the exception.  I probably angered a few locals because I didn't throw caution to the wind.  On most sections the speed limit is the equivalent of 60 mph.  Roads and curves like these at home would be posted at no more than 40 and down to 15 on some of the curves.  I have to do all the driving here because, honestly we really couldn't afford renting the car and adding another driver would be even more expensive.  I survived the day and have become fairly comfortable with driving on the left but not completely so.  It is anything but natural yet.  The British car club folks at home would love these roads.  Well even though we arrived unscathed, I am quite mentally exhausted from being on edge for every moment of the drive.  I do not know how long it took.  We didn't keep track of our leaving time.  We left some time in the morning and arrived in Clon sometime in late afternoon. I believe we had the Garmin set to avoid tolls and we did just that.  It did guide us through Dublin although and that proved to be a true baptism in managing the left hand driving thing. 
Most of the day was cool and beautiful.  Clouds  moved briskly over head, shutting and opening the curtains on the sun.  Brisk breezes from the ocean energized this activity and we got a little peek at the sea in the distance at one point.  It is on our agenda to make our way down to the oceanside.  Clon is an incredibly picturesque town, it's got a touristy side but not tasteless as many American tourist traps seem to be.  It is a lived in town, the streets are filled with shops that cater to providing one's daily needs.  As John and I strolled through a number of streets we did not see a single souvenir shop.  There are posters up advertising the CIGF in most shops.  I'm sure if Richard hasn't seen them yet he will be pleased to see that his name is placed in a prominent position.  Somehow I have to manage to acquire at least one of these posters.  Richard is doing two workshops and a performance.  Ironically and conveniently his performance will be based at our hotel, The Emmet Hotel.  There is another workshop I want to attend on accompanying Irish music sessions.  We will be skipping the paid concerts, too expensive at 20 euros each person, each show.  Neither of the featured performers are within my taste so this isn't much of a sacrifice.  We stopped for a small dinner of soup at the Phoenix Bar.   John Spilane is scheduled to perform at the Phoenix on Sunday and I would love to see him.  He is a guitarist, duh, and a vocalist. I asked one of the locals if it gets pretty busy during this annual festival.  One of the gents said "Yes it gets mental !"  Packed to the gills.  He said he's been considering putting a stick on the end of a cereal box, then adding some strings and participating in Saturday's attempt at breaking the world record of the most guitarists playing the same song at one time.  He said he wouldn't play a real guitar because the poor guitar would need therapy after he got a hold of it. Last year there were 800+ participants.  This is going to happen in the town square which is directly across the street from our hotel and overlooked by our room.  When I tried to play guitar today my playing felt mediocre at best.  I think I may be tired because even with jet lag, my playing was better yesterday.  I immediately thought of how difficult it must be for a performer like Richard to jump into a show after spending a whole day traveling and getting from point A to B and then dealing with the pressure of putting on an excellent show.  Epic fail on my part.  Make a note: teenage girls of every nationality seem to have one thing in common.  They are boisterously loud bunch.  Currently the square is literally filled with teenagers, if this continues late into the night, we will not be getting much sleep.  Where did all these kids come from?  Do they have school in the morning?  It seems as though they have suddenly materialized.  Well I'm wrapping this up to get in some more practice.