St. Patrick’s Day 2016 – Bergen

This self service hostel is quite the place

I am living very cheaply without having to give up anything I’m accustomed to.

The fact that I don’t drink surely helps this. I met a guy here last night who went out for beers and came back 30 Euro poorer a short while later.

I have managed to do two loads of laundry here – exciting I know.

It is a bit strange that this place has no staff to speak of but I guess it works, hell I know it works.

 

St. Patricks day tomorrow and that makes me blue. Not that I’ve ever done much at home for it either but I have my blue Gaeilge t-shirt and I think I’ll look for  a present for Sini. And photos, lots of photos.

Inniskeen Road: July Evening – Poem by Patrick Kavanagh

The bicycles go by in twos and threes –
There’s a dance in Billy Brennan’s barn to-night,
And there’s the half-talk code of mysteries
And the wink-and-elbow language of delight.
Half-past eight and there is not a spot
Upon a mile of road, no shadow thrown
That might turn out a man or woman, not
A footfall tapping secrecies of stone.
I have what every poet hates in spite
Of all the solemn talk of contemplation.
Oh, Alexander Selkirk knew the plight
Of being king and government and nation.
A road, a mile of kingdom, I am king
Of banks and stones and every blooming thing.

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