To The Sea

13 August - Those bastards have thwarted me again. Despite getting up relatively earlyish for the 'light breakfast' there was nothing but margarine and marmalade to spread on it - who eats marmalade? I want berry jam goddamnit! Somehow managed to stuff down four slices but it wasn't pleasant. had a bit of a revelation whilst in bed - Killarney's pretty dull. THis was confirmed when I read through the 'things to do in Killarney' book at the hostel and found that i'd done all of them the previous afternoon. After that I realised there was little for me to do but get the flock out of there. Rushed down to the bus station and purchased a ticket to Galway and was on it in less than 15m. It's grand to be on one's own sometimes. Although didn't have complete success in trying to blag Chevette on with me - every time i've caught the bus nobody's checked that her ticket but this time there were two other crappe MTBs on with me and the station guy said there was a maximum of two bikes and i'd have to get the next bus in two hours. After extolling the virtues of Chevette's light and beautiful frame that wouldn't take up much room he reluctantly agreed but chased up on me to buy her a ticket. You've got to try, don't you? Upon arrival at Gallway took my expensive companion on a little trip down to the seaside (who'd have thought they'd have beaches on Ireland - well, they're not real beaches but i'm ot going to tell the Galwegians that). Very pretty - this country is so green. Turns out that Galway is suffering from a plague of cryptosporidum (god, I love that word) similar to what hit Sydney about a decade ago - should be suitable frustrating to clean teeth and wash contact lenses but i'll survive. International crowd gathering on balcony in evening - Spanish, french, Canadian (well, quebecois but they're still a part of it), German and northern Irish) - had my first herbal remedy in a while which was rather pleasant. Have to say that one particular hostel demographic that always raises my suspicions is the older character (generally male) who hangs out at the hostel but doesn't live there. The gypsy Irish gentleman from Belfast was very nice but there was just somethingabout him that made me wary - perhaps it was his not very well explained reason for living in Dublin then in Galway, his obvious presence at the hostel and his later descriptions of seeing his girlfriend shot in front of him by the British during the troubles. He just seemed like a slightly dodgy character that could be potentially dangerous. But hey, he was a nice guy. Every once in a while you get the feeling that your world has come close overlapping with a very different world where values and things of importance are radicallydifferent. After making a tentative journey out to see the early week Galway late night life - I soon found myself losinginterest once the last of the pubs shut down and the blaring nighclubs filled with those strange types who actuallywant to go clubbing on a Monday - i'm obvlivious to what day it is right now but they should know better.