Kinsale…
I’m going to take a trip back to the ol’ sod…. I’ll hop on one of these things:
While I’m waiting in the airport, I’ll sit at the bar, and have a few pints of the loosening juice and read a few pages of my book
The pints always get me in the mood for going out slapping backs in Kinsale after I touch down… First port of call is the Greyhound, have a sniff around, see who’s about… then I’ll get dragged to the Bulman which is a bit of a trek, but the sister’s a big fan of the place and she’s doing the chauffeuring. So off to the Bulman:
If it’s a blustery night, you’ll always feel it over at the Bulman because it sits at the edge of the harbour. A few more pints to get the beer coat on…and if we’re lucky there might be some of this going on:
It’s close to closing, so away back into town, tuck ourselves safely into a pub before last call.
Then if I’ve enough pints in me, I may be persuaded to go to the local nightclub, God forgive me – terrible kip of a place – the white lady, they still have a slow set there where men come up and ask you to dance to the likes of “Unchained Melody” etc. If you go out for a dance with any of the ol’ codgers, you’ll soon be wrestling with more than you bargained for… This is the white lady:
Away home in a taxi – Mike will be driving, he’s sound. He always remembers me and we have great craic driving him mad on the way home. Next morning, I’ll cook Jerry, my Brother one of my world famous breakfasts. After, he will mark it out of ten. I always get about 9 and a half out of 10. He’ll dock me half a mark for the smallest things…just to be annoying. He loves when I come home cuz he gets quality brekkies…
I might take a walk out the old head of Kinsale to clear away the cobwebs:
If my Brother, Johnny is in from sea, he might give me a tuna like he did the last time:
If not, I’ll head into fishy fishy:
This place is amazing. They have the best food in the world. I might go for something like this:
Might have a pint of Kinsale Lager to keep it company in me belly:
They say that Kinsale lager doesn’t have any chemicals in it, so you can drink it to your hearts content without getting a hangover.
Did you know that a giant lived in Kinsale once? His name was Patrick Cotter O’ Brien and he was born in 1760. His shoe is inside in the museum in Kinsale. I don’t know where his other shoe is. He was eight foot and three inches and was the tallest man in the world at the time. When he was 18, a travelling showman discovered him working as a bricklayer and brought him to England to star in his “freak of nature” show.
There you have it…
Cuttin’ Trees
In 1998 all the elm trees in Ireland had to be felled due to a dutch elm disease that caused em all to rot. Having an elm tree on your property was a terrible liability as they were falling all over the shop and so everyone in the country was ordered to chop them down immediately before someone was killed 
My Father asked Jimmy Mac from Ballinspittle if he wouldn’t mind helping him chop down the elm tree we had in our garden. This is the village Jimmy is from:
Jimmy and himself arranged to do it on the following Sunday. So my father and Jimmy arranged to meet in the pub as you do before you have to cut down a tree. About forty pints later, they emerged from the pub ready for action. They got the chainsaw out and scoped out the situation. They had planned for the tree to fall to the left, so Jimmy naturally stood to the right. My father had the chainsaw and started it up. I came out of the house to watch. About a half an hour later, the plan went a bit awry and the tree didn’t fall to the left as planned, it fell to the right and Jimmy was under it. His head was split open and the scalp was flapping in the wind. I saw his brain. Jimmy was rushed to hospital. He lives to tell the tale. There are two morals to this story:
1. Never drink before operating a chainsaw
2. Never get an Irish man to cut down your tree
Alter ego compulsions…
RE: Your black dog in the pub
He has the begging down to a T, I have seen him use and abuse people for their snacks. As soon as they were finished their snacks he would jilt them like lost lovers. He is a cunning piece of stuff.
He is an attractive dog and I suggest you put notices up so that the public don’t ruin him. He has the body of an athelete. If I was a dog myself, I would most definately take him. He has the best hind legs I’ve ever seen in my life. God bless him.
I look forward to seeing him in peak shape next year
All the best now,
—–
From: ////@thebulman.com –> –> –> –> –>///@thebulman.com –>
Date: Jul 3, 2006 11:19 AM
Subject: Re: Your Black dog in the pub
To: Mick Magee –> –> –> –> –>///@gmail.com–>
Hello Mick,
Thanks for the info. I will let the owner know. The Dog does not belong to the bar but lives behind The Bulman. She is a great manipulator with those sad eyes and cute face, it is hard not to give in to her.
Glad you enjoyed your time here and I hope it will be as good on your return visit.
Regards,
C/// R///
Roads…
When I think back of the places I’ve been to, I almost always see the roads, and always the same stretches. When I dream of Seattle, where I lived for about six years, I always dream of two streets, one being the main street in Capitol Hill (Broadway) where Ileens Sports Bar, one of my favourite watering holes, still remains… and also a road that made no impression on me whatsoever when I was there, it was one of those non descript roads, why I constantly dream of that road is beyond me but I do…
When I am away from Ireland, I always think of the road from Innishannon to Kinsale, one patch in particular is the road with the bendy corners over looking the Bandon river, this has to be the most stunning stretch of road in the world. I was once full up in a taxi coming out from Kinsale at 3am in the morning and the taxi in which I was travelling smashed into the wall – Not many people can take those corners successfully. When I was about 7 years old, on this same stretch of road, a priest tried to pick me up. I was walking along with one of my friends when he stopped at the side of the road and asked us if we wanted a lift, we both said no. He persisted saying he had sweets in his car, we again refused and he drove off.
Here are some photos I took of the roads in which I walked between Innishannon and Kinsale.
