Ninja daisy
Breakfast with Ash and Phil, and later Aimee. Having cleverly avoided drinking myself into oblivion the night before, I actually felt fairly fresh this morning as we ate breakfast overlooking the mountain to the south of Westport that kept losing its head in clouds. I want to go back there one day.
Wanted to pop out for a breath of air. Aimee in lively capering fashion decided to turn into a bit of a scramble around the perimeter of the grounds. She did this clutching a flower, which she called the Ninja daisy, which she used to compel me to follow her.
After this adventure, off to pack and meet up with everyone before we went off to the beach under the cloud shrouded mountain. Was stunningly beautiful, with the sun spotlighting bits every now and then. The sky changes so rapidly everything looks different all the time. Makes me think of W.B. Yeats. The west of Ireland is a magical place.
Then the long trip home. A drive through the countryside to Knock airport, where we ate pies and drank tea, before a ghastly cattle flight. Ryanair is the pits. Slightly turbulent with them persistently trying to sell raffle tickets and other rubbish. Children crying in the rows ahead and aft capped it off. Sat next to Paula who speed read an airport novel, trying to blank out the horror of the journey.
However I'd really enjoyed the weekend, and I was so pleased I'd been able to see Marcella looking so happy. Just that was worth the journey alone. Fond farewells to Aimee, Paula, Ash and Phil at Stanstead.
Then a long journey home, but the trains were kind to me, and I was home a little before 10. Lorraine brought the Calliope back, and a tupperware portion of lamb stew. It was good to be home.
Below Aimee, album cover shot Juliette, Matt, Paula, Ash, Phil, Aimee. Spots of natural Irish beauty.
Breakfast with Ash and Phil, and later Aimee. Having cleverly avoided drinking myself into oblivion the night before, I actually felt fairly fresh this morning as we ate breakfast overlooking the mountain to the south of Westport that kept losing its head in clouds. I want to go back there one day.
Wanted to pop out for a breath of air. Aimee in lively capering fashion decided to turn into a bit of a scramble around the perimeter of the grounds. She did this clutching a flower, which she called the Ninja daisy, which she used to compel me to follow her.
After this adventure, off to pack and meet up with everyone before we went off to the beach under the cloud shrouded mountain. Was stunningly beautiful, with the sun spotlighting bits every now and then. The sky changes so rapidly everything looks different all the time. Makes me think of W.B. Yeats. The west of Ireland is a magical place.
Then the long trip home. A drive through the countryside to Knock airport, where we ate pies and drank tea, before a ghastly cattle flight. Ryanair is the pits. Slightly turbulent with them persistently trying to sell raffle tickets and other rubbish. Children crying in the rows ahead and aft capped it off. Sat next to Paula who speed read an airport novel, trying to blank out the horror of the journey.
However I'd really enjoyed the weekend, and I was so pleased I'd been able to see Marcella looking so happy. Just that was worth the journey alone. Fond farewells to Aimee, Paula, Ash and Phil at Stanstead.
Then a long journey home, but the trains were kind to me, and I was home a little before 10. Lorraine brought the Calliope back, and a tupperware portion of lamb stew. It was good to be home.
Below Aimee, album cover shot Juliette, Matt, Paula, Ash, Phil, Aimee. Spots of natural Irish beauty.
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