The sun a sullen distant heatless disc – wrote Colm Keegan Irish poet in his “January Train”. Because dull, voiceless, gray, heavy, gloomy, lethargic – they are the words which can describe January in Ireland. And I was already preparing a text about dark days and my blue mood. Meanwhile, the sun woke up and brightened up our local world, though not for all days.
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Instead of unpacking the boxes in our new living room, we are going to Limerick, a city on the River Shannon, 85 km from Galway, which I really like. The rain is falling more and more, but I have a striped umbrella and it fits the colorful Limerick doors in Victorian townhouses. On the fence of the “People’s Park” we are welcomed by pictures of the inhabitants, and under the autumn trees, there are sculptures of painted horses.
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I never know where life will surprise me on a regular Friday. The weather is not the worst, but gray clouds are flying in my head. However in the early afternoon, after work, I am looking for an outstanding sandwich and good coffee. Though it would be best to use a time machine and move elsewhere.
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Low lie the fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly
Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing
From song Fields of Athenry
When after a long time I dared on a solo trip outside Galway, I met an adventure that I had never dreamed about. On Sunday morning, I packed my blue bike onto the train and went to Athenry, only two stops. Next, I headed by Tuam Road to Castle Ellen House, for the exhibition ‘Town and Country.
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May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back.
Irish proverb
Summer in Ireland has 14 degrees, and rain is usually on hand. However, there is some unusual feature of this country that always makes me feel that I am on the way. Because when I discover new beaches, various types of flowers and grasses, and visit fishing villages like Kinvara, I experience the magic and the weather does not determine it.
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When the sun is shining, Connemara looks like a fairy-tale land. Lush green spills onto the road like a cocktail of parsley and kiwi. It mixes with navy streams and sea-pink Armeria Maritima for several dozen kilometers. Magic mountains reign under the sky, and at their foot the most beautiful turquoise I have ever seen is glazed.
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There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing
Alfred Wainwright
The force of the wind on the Beaufort scale is nine, a little tree knocked over on some balcony in Galway. I prepare sandwiches and pour coffee into tourist mugs. We put on hoodies, jackets, hats, I take gloves, even it is May. Dauntless sneakers are ready for the adventure. The songs by Polish band T.Love sound in the car, so memories mix with the N59 road, and beige hills with newborn sheep hug their mums on the fields. Long before Clifden, we turn right to the Connemara National Park. The direction is three beautiful beaches.
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Don’t think, man, what your life might be, otherwise, it wouldn’t be yours.
Czesław Miłosz, The Issa Valley.
Where are you from? – I have heard this question a thousand times in my life. And I always wondered what should I respond: where I come from or where I am currently live? When I lived in Poland, the answer seemed simple, because I was born in this country. Although I landed in the world in Warsaw and after years I moved to Wrocław.
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I went to Lisbon impressed by Wim Wenders’ film Lisbon Story. The blue-yellow city situated on the hills and the red Ponte 25 de Abril bridge over the Tagus river appeared from the plane’s window exactly like in the movie.
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Think you are escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.
James Joyce
My town has eyes as deep as the Atlantic. When the sun sometimes blinks, the eyes of the town turn into chestnut doggies, running and enjoying the streets without rain.
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