Post a Comment On: Wicklow

Lindy told me that they say of the Wicklow Mountains that you can grow "a fine crop of rocks" there. The amount of different kinds and colours of stone is remarkable - white, black, green, grey, brown. This was caused by ancient glaciers as their tremendous icy force gouged and dragged various strata about the place. Lots of granite, limestone, and some kinds of stone that simply had no place being there.

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Later as Dana finshed her book, I went to the pub in Donard with John, who in actual fact was still recovering from a monster period of work himself, and met some locals, including the man with the leaky house. He was building a place just next door, and living in a mobile home, but the water had been pouring in through the light fittings in this terrible weather.

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A couple of pints of Smithwicks and a Crested Ten later, I came out of the pub and saw this sky. If I'd had a proper camera, I'd have spent the next 15 minutes (which was as long as it lasted) photographing. I was stunned. I could hardly believe the colours I was witnessing - God's own lightshow.

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We ate fabulously all holiday. That night Lindy brought out the champagne as a great welcome to us, and we ate roast lamb with rosemary and garlic, followed by cocktails with raspberries in. We stayed up late and very drunk, and I don't actually remember going to bed... astonishingly, next morning, I didn't have more than ten minutes of hangover. Vitamin C, said Lindy. Same cannot be said of John, although it must be said, he bore it with his usual good grace.