Thursday, June 9, 2011


Oh, hello! Long time, no see. I've been preoccupied for the last few weeks, and for that, my sincere apologies. I will, however, make no apologies for thoroughly enjoying my self-imposed blog absence. During which, by the way, I didn't go anywhere near my laptop for anything other than a spot of online banking. It's handy having an iPhone, isn't it? Email, Facebook and Twitter all there, with me all the time with no need to sit down at a keyboard and type anything. For blogging, I find the iPhone just too small. I like having more room to play with when it comes to posting. I have a few blogging apps on my phone but none of them have felt right. Any suggestions are more than welcome, by the way.

Anyway, the last week of august saw my dear old brother visit us with two of his friends. Him and his friend flew over from Finland, rented a car in Dublin and headed towards the lovely west coast. Meanwhile his other friend was on his motorbike, somewhere between Cork and Mr S's hotel en route. My brother arrived around dinnertime with his friend. Friend on motorbike appeared about a pint and a half later, walking like John Wayne. 650km in one day on Irish roads on a motorbike will do that to you, I guarantee it.

The following day was dedicated to travel up north to Enniskillen via Sligo and Bundoran. In Enniskillen the lads very nearly became local celebrities when people realised the lad on the motorbike is the spitting image of Brian O'Driscoll. Newspapers were pulled out to demonstrate the uncanny resemblance. Couldn't argue with it, he does look a lot like him. Needless to say, for the rest of the trip he was known as Brian.

After a night in Enniskillen it was back to base where Brian had to follow his obsession to climb a mountain. The rest of us decided on a slightly less arduous activity of visiting our house and having a couple of drinks at the local before heading back to the hotel with the promise of heaps of mussels and prawns accompanied by nice, chilled Pinot Grigio. Brian had found his way back down from the mountain, but it was the road leading to the hotel that had him stumped. Determined, he was marching along the road in the wrong direction when a friendly local picked him up and dropped him off at the hotel. A detail Brian failed to mention until quizzed on it.
My brother didn't think there was enough lemon
on his friend's prawns

Brian deep in thought after is mountain trek

We ate (some more than others) until fit to burst, after which Brian retired up to his room. Three of us continued propping up the bar until it was decided it was far too late to be up, considering the lads were to travel to Dublin the following day. Bedtime.

Some of us ate more than others
Friday morning saw my brother and Brian having their now customary topless wrestling match on the front lawn of Mr S's hotel, to great amusement of Mr S's mother. And hotel guests. And passing motorists. After a brief visit to the abbey, where Brian decided to sit that one out and my brother and his friend came up with a brilliant idea of a karaoke bus, it was time to say goodbye. The visit was brief but most welcome. The tail lights of the Astra and Honda were the last thing I saw. They all made it home, safe and sound.

Tail lights say goodbye
 Do call again!

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