On May 3rd 2018 I had just finished my civic duty as the jury foreman, on a hideous criminal trial that had lasted a fortnight, and which resulted in a mistrial. I was wandering around Monasterevin one evening waiting for the train to Limerick (which I was doing in the salubrious environs of Monasterevin is not pertinent to this story). I smoked the last cigarette in the packet of Marlboro Lights (or Marboro Gold as I think they were renamed when required to do so, in case anyone might think the light version of the smoke was the low-fat option). I spent the weekend in Limerick. Continue reading I quit →

This afternoon I attended a flamenco concert at Farmleigh House. While the music and dance style of flamenco was appealing, I was more excited about the prospect of visiting the old Guinness family home at Farmleigh – a palatial spread for this wealthy family, that is now in use as the official guest house of the Irish state for visiting heads of state and other dignitaries. Continue reading Flamenco at Farmleigh →

I moved to Amsterdam in 2000, and began work in my shiny new Dutch job on Monday morning. I had never been to Amsterdam before, didn’t speak a word of Dutch, didn’t know a soul, and had nowhere to live upon arrival. On my first day of work I was introduced to my new colleagues. One of whom was a Donegal woman named Maureen. We didn’t have much to say to each other. She sat behind me and listened to her music on her Discman, while I wallowed in self-pity at my foolhardy decision to move countries on a whim. As I was brand new in my position I had no time off earned, to return home to Ireland to lick my wounds that Christmas. This weighed heavy on my soul. So much so that on December 20^th I started singing an Elvis classic to myself. Continue reading My friend Maureen →