Glendalough, as you may recall, is this incredible place in the Wicklow Mountains, one of my favorite places on earth. My visits to Glendalough have always been special, but this last one … It’s what Anne of Green Gables would call an “epoch” in my life.
Before I left the pub and traipsed through the ruins in the middle of the night, Allison and I hung out for hours with various groups of fascinating wonderful people – all locals. We were the only tourists, certainly the only Americans. It is, for all intents and purposes, a small-town pub, and they took us into their hearts, they were warm, wonderful, funny, they told us all their secrets – we heard about that one’s brain tumor, we heard about that one’s tragedy, we heard about that one’s “So he made some mistakes – who doesn’t?” attitude towards Hitler (which is a whole bizarre story in and of itself) … We got all the juice. Just by sitting there in the pub. When it came out a couple of days later that there was one huge thing that we DIDN’T know, someone had had a very serious operation, Allison said, shocked, “Wow – so-and-so didn’t tell me that!” In all sincerity. I grew up in a small town. The bar in that small town is very similar to this one.
We had a marvelous time.
Allison and I did not feel the need to be joined at the hip, as travelers. At least not at every moment. (Very important, I think – you have to be able to go off and do your own thing). I met someone and pretty much hung out with him all night, although I did veer off into group conversations with a wonderful couple … but in general, I was perched on one stool all night, by the window, chatting and arguing and roaring with laughter, and having a grand old time with this one particular bloke.
So anyway, there’s the set-up.
Allison started talking to some of the guys playing pool. They were young, and sweet, and definitely “trouble”. In a funny way. Like – one had cuts on his face obviously from a fight he had had the night before, etc. Cutie-pies.
Allison told me later that this group of kids (they were all about 20, 21 years old) were keeping tabs on me from across the bar. I hadn’t met any of them, at that point, but they kept reporting to Allison on what was going on with me. I think perhaps these kids felt protective of me, maybe? Or they wanted to keep Allison informed of my progress? I have no idea, but I still think it’s funny.
One of them said to Allison, randomly, “Your friend looks like she’s a very good listener.” ha ha ha ha
The other comment was (and this came later in the night): “Your friend is drinking whiskey now.”
Why is this so amusing to me? I have no idea. It just is. They took note of when I started drinking whiskey and felt the need to inform Allison of it. heh heh heh
The other funny thing (or one of the other MANY funny things) about that night was when Allison strolled over from the pool table to stop by and say hi to me and the bloke – as she approached, she heard one of us say the words “Al Qaeda” – and she promptly turned and walked the other way.
WHY is this so funny to me???
I SWEAR that I did not bring Al Qaeda up. I did not stagger through Ireland cornering people about Al Qaeda. Not at all. It happened mutually, organically – We talked about a ton of other things, too … it’s just that at the moment Allison decided to visit us, we were talking about Al Qaeda.
I can just see it. “Hey, let’s go over and say hi to Sheila … oh shit, they’re talking about Al Qaeda … let’s go this way now …”
Uhm … Drinking whiskey in Glendalough during a wind-storm talking about Al Qaeda? Uhm … can you say heaven on earth?
Sounds wonderful. I am very jealous.
It was, indeed, a night to remember. I don’t even have one picture of it … which actually makes it even more special. I stood by the monastery at 1 am, with the wind racing around me, and saw the tower against the night sky, and the Celtic crosses rising up, and thought: REMEMBER. THIS.