Use the hook to grab the very large wooden sections. Swing them through 180 degrees and gently lower them into a channel cut into the concrete. Do that about seven or eight times and you’ve got yourself a barrier, closing one section of the dock from the rest. Think of it like a video game. A cold, wet and potentially deadly video game. With the smell of fish all around.
On the way down to Gougane Barra last month. On my many, many trips down there I always wanted to stop at this lake but there was always loads of people around. Me? Anti-social?!?
Strolling, just like we were, on the rocky beach next to the train tracks. Not many kids out building sandcastles today. Well, not much sand to build them in either. I’m sure you could have fashioned an impressive rock castle though. Hmm, might have to try that one out.
Hand selected rocks on Newcastle beach. Only the ones with the best stripes (and spots) will do. Incidentally, some of these now live in my apartment along with a curiously burgerish shaped rock. It was too good to leave behind. Oh how I’ve missed strolling on the beach!
Single daffodil, seperated from the group. Living in Mount Usher gardens in Wicklow. Nice spot. Very shaky bridges. Delightful stuff.
Old, broken, left behind. Part of a child’s toy discarded on the beach. Making sandcastles out of rocks does that to plastic toys.
Toward the end of the festivities, the car clubs got their five minutes of fame. This time in the form of some very well restored VW beetles. Well, and one not so well restored, but I’m sure that was a work in progress.
The first (or second, I can’t quite remember but I’m sure someone will correct me) band to roll out at the start of the parade. The first (or second) of many, many brass bands and musical acts that drifted by over the course of the two and a bit hours. People near me were heard to comment that “it’s a shame there wasn’t a band finshing up the parade”. It did end rather abruptly. All that was missing was someoneRead More
Notes written by a great man for a great day. Half man, half legend; Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh calling the Paddy’s day parade from up on high. G’wan ya good thing!
A quick one from yesterday’s St. Patrick’s day parade in Dublin. Great parade, squeezed myself into a good location to view it, got within 5 feet of the amazing Nancy Cartwright (that’s Bart Simpson to those not in the know) and got a few hundred photos to add to the pix.ie group to boot! Then spent much of the rest of the evening drinking free Guinness and eating free food courtesy, once again, of pix.ie (and Canon Ireland and theRead More
The often overlooked detail of Trinity college on a great Sunday for tourists. Seems like we’re getting back to the time of year when every day is a great Sunday for tourists. I often overlook Trinity myself but it’s such a great spot for different types of architecture to engage the lens and/or the brain. That and it’s on everthings doorstep. If you live in Dublin. City. Forget I said anything. Actually, anyone up for a Trinity meetup? Apply within.
Possibly only if you’re wearing heels though. Or wearing heels and drunk. Or (bear with me), wearing heels, drunk and a first time cross-dresser. Other than that, you’re pretty safe. Out for a relaxing Sunday stroll. Completely unlike those relaxing Sunday strolls that turn into epic shopping trips. By which I mean standing around while the other half tries on everything in the bloody shop. But thankfully I don’t suffer that. No, seriously.. I wasn’t being sarcastic this time.
Pass the swanky breads, way past the name-dropping ‘considerably better than you’ vegetables, around the corner where the exclusive sauces and marinades live and over on the opposite side of the decadent coffees and teas in no name jars is where you’ll find me. Waiting for you… Or someone in a Range Rover, whoever finds me first.
On Dame street, Dublin. Looking out from the city hall, across a courtyard that looks like tetris to a building that looks like tetris. At least they stuck with the theme I suppose.
Standing, half crouched on the edge of a fountain at the war memorial in Kilmainham. Somewhere not too far away, a kid with a puzzled look on his face stares intently at me. Farther away, a father not paying attention kicks a ball. Moments later, the sound of a child catching a ball with the back of his head. Re-meter, focus, shoot. Ok buh bye then.
Confession, St. Peters Church, Drogheda. Nobody around to hear it though so continued on. One from the meetup of a few fine folks over the weekend. We couldn’t resist going into this church, possibly only after being told that there is a rather old head on display inside. True enough, it wasn’t just a tourist trap ploy to get us inside for a prayer or two.
I waited. Then I waited. And just to be sure I waited some more. Then I went back to waiting. Waiting for all the tourists to stop taking photos of themselves. Waiting for them to finish their conversations and move on. Then two women stepped into the frame. They wanted to move out of it but couldn’t figure out how to. Rabbit in headlights moment. So I included them. Luckily enough, because if I hadn’t chosen to take the photoRead More
Strolling down around the Cornmarket Street area before the blog awards. Was that last month already? Wow. Well, I suppose we\’re only just into March so it’s not that bad. It was nice being in the city and seeing things I’d never seen before. Or not paid enough attention to because I’d spent much of my life so far walking so near to. One thing that wasn’t so nice to see is the big glass fronted monstrosity that’s been builtRead More