I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write - typical, really. I’ve been in Kinsale for three months now and it’s hard to know what to write about as there is so much happening and so many new things to absorb, but I will try. . .
The course itself is going well and, although not quite what I had expected, I’m learning a lot. I’m gradually deepening my understanding of Permaculture; expanding my mental library of plant and tree species and their uses; helping to build a cob cordwood roundhouse; going to lots of fantastic places on field trips; and best of all, enjoying the company of all the people studying with me. They are a diverse bunch – many different nationalities, ages and backgrounds. The atmosphere here is great and there’s always something happening, even though the town is so small!
There are, of course (this being Ireland where even a tiny hamlet can still have two functioning pubs!), lots of pubs and some are particularly nice – such as a small one which has local trad. (N.B. This trad. is to be distinguished from the far more common trad. of the fat-man-playing-on-guitar-while-singing-depressing-we-hate-the-English-god-awful-Danny-boy-etc-songs variety. Run away, far away, if ever you are about to enter a pub and hear the distinctive plaintive, drunken, warbling of old men accompanied either by guitar or pre-recorded keyboard!) musicians playing unobtrusively in the back. Another nice pub is run by an old woman and is very cosy – but beware, the aforementioned lady of the establishment is suspected to be the culprit behind the mysterious disappearance of only-half-finished-when-I-go-to-the-loo pints. Or there’s a lovely pub out in Summercove (a 40 minute walk away) which overlooks the sea and James’ Fort. Beamish is my favourite stout (brewed locally in Cork), but, like many things here, is very expensive. That doesn’t seem to stop people from drinking it in vast quantities though. . . I’m still trying to find the legendary beer token tree from which so many people seem to be able to carry on drinking despite having no money, no job, the recession etc etc. . .
Much cheaper and far more satisfying are the regular “pot-lucks” that my fellow students et al go mad for. Someone hosts an evening where everyone brings food and booze and we all pig out and generally lounge around. Every other person in Ireland would appear to be a musician so there are often some wonderful impromptu “gigs” and I’ve been attempting to join in with my ukulele on the odd occasion. I may even play with some of my classmates at the Winter Fair at college, though I’ll probably opt for the safer option of challenging someone to a round of “Burp Tennis”.
Amongst the students there are some fantastic talents and loads of them are wonderful at crafts – so I’ve finally realised my dream of joining a weekly “Stitch n’ Bitch”! I hope to learn crochet, felting and the like from them. The “Stitch n’ Bitch” is especially fun as it also often doubles as a pot-luck, but it means my knitted goods will have bits of food woven in, but I’ll make up some excuse about that. . .
I could go on, but I think I’ve just gone over my yearly blogging quota. Phew. Here are some photos.
