Fountainstown, sitting on the rocks at the beach one evening after going down to Cork for the weekend. Can’t help but think of the rule of thirds and how I’ve possibly not followed it’s teachings here. Meh, rules are made to be broken. Especially photography rules.
In a similar vein to what Donncha posted a few days ago, Fountainstown beach isn’t a million miles away from Myrtleville. Although, in fairness, it is a hell of a lot cleaner. It’s (more or less) the next beach across as you’re walking around the rocky coastline and never fails to present some interesting titbit of thoughtlessly discarded waste on any visit to the spot. Also shot with Al’s lensbaby.
Ready to save a life. Perpetually pooped on by passing gulls the size of Ford Fiestas. The old model. Marks the start of what is turning into an ever more treacherous stroll across the rocks from Fountainstown to Myrtleville. Makes it all the more enjoyable.
And a fine place it is too! The small shop that has everything, nestled into a corner next to Fountainstown beach, between Carrigaline and Crosshaven in Cork. Sweets, ice cream, buckets & spades, sandwiches, tea, coffee, headstones and more. You’ll get it all in Angelas Shop. Well, I lied about one thing. They might not have coffee.