Free time in Killmallock
Barely in Ireland 3 days, and a dozen rain showers a day make it obvious why the island’s so green. My rain jacket comes off, goes on, comes off…and miraculously dries in between.
Comfy Deebert House is my base of operations. Hosts Margaret, Jamal, and their little girls make Tarja, Niall and I full welcome with a flurry of really cute jokes told rapid fire (I can only remember one: ‘how can you tell if a clown has farted?”
“It smells funny”.
First people I met: John Butera and his wife Mandy Isbeth. I recruited her to be The Other Jacquie this evening, when I’m expected to lead a ride in the Ballyhoura woods… my own confused schedule has me simultaneously getting an audience with Dervla Murphy, the Literary Lioness of Lismore…not a difficult choice, since I think Mandy will do a superb job of posing as me, whilst fobbing those patches I created off on patrons of the embroidery arts.
Jac Strachan and I will be zipping down (avoiding head-on collisions, sort of a secret sport of the Irish) to County Waterford to meet her and we can’t wait. Can’t wait…Dervla…thank you in advance for the time…
Here in the Kilmallock Library, the staff whispered a request for a banjo tune (I obliged).
Each place I go (Lounges, bars, usually to put on my rain coat and steal a peek at the decor) people enquire for a micro-concert, and I always oblige. Never happens in the states.
Yesterday at a roadside gas station/cafe called Insomnia Cafe, we even befriended the Guy In The Car Next To Us. (Hello, Rory). Then found an entire platoon of Dutch single speeders –Hubert, Jaap, etc, buying food. It feels like the world is a tiny little carnival of two wheel buffoons.