Sligo, Ireland

A quick administrative point – it seems my new internet service provider is having a few problems with my e-mail, as I know of quite a few e-mails that have been sent to me that I haven’t received. So if you’ve written to me, and you think I’ve ignored you, I haven’t! I just haven’t received the message. But don’t re-send yet, not until we’ve got these teething problems sorted out. I’ll let you know.

Technology – pah!

Meanwhile, in my otherwise very low-tech life in Ireland.

It was St Patrick’s Day on Wednesday, and even though the buses into Sligo weren’t running, it seemed a shame to miss out on the festivities. So I walked and hitched the 12 miles into Sligo to see the parade. Loads of marching bands, floats, jugglers, local Scout groups, the Sligo Swimming Club. the great and the good, and probably also the not-so-great and not-so-good – they were all there.

The luck of the Irish held true, and the weather was bright and sunny – a single day of sunshine sandwiched in the middle of an otherwise wet and blustery week. St Patrick must have pulled a few celestial strings to make sure it didn’t rain on his parade.

No doubt many pints of Guinness were consumed that evening, judging from the slightly fragile state of many of the aforementioned great and good the next morning. but I was collapsed in an exhausted heap back in my cosy cottage, having taken it into my head to walk the whole 12 miles back home. I find it hard to believe I could happily trek, at altitude, for 7 or 8 hours a day while I was in Peru, but found a stroll through the Irish countryside so completely knackering. never let it be said that walking is an easy form of exercise.

So it’s been over 3 weeks now since I had a drink. But worry not, a normal alcoholic service will be resumed as soon as I get back to London at the end of the month!

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