30.17

2008-08-27 

Try as I might and I don't, I will never get Ireland out of my system.  I'm staying at Rathfarnham for a fortnight while others take a break.  

I have no serious work to do so I get a chance to listen to the radio, get out by bus and tram and train.  I get to talk to people whenever I feel like it and watch life rolling by.  There is chat to be had anywhere and the chat exchanges news and views. 

 In England, I am considered eccentric because I start conversations.  How refreshing to meet someone like Martina with a normal gift of the gab.  

Here, in Ireland, I am considered totally normal and it works both ways.  Conversation is an ideal means of bonding and the Irish are naturals.  I listen to three small boys on the top of a 16A going into town.  They observe everything, comment on everything.   Nothing is sacrosanct, not even how to rob sweets from a shop we're passing   Intriguing to note that, just like 50odd years ago,  a fishing rod features high on the list of desirable tools.  On the radio, everybody has something to say and everything is worth hearing.   The most interesting observation, though, is that all the talking is done by the Irish.  I have no idea who has cornered the market in listening.   I do not hear the hum of foreign tongues in Bewleys.  It seems to be that Ireland and the Irish have cornered the market in talking to each other and in story-telling and stand-up comedy.  

Did you hear the one about ...

2025 ... Bewleys is gone 
What reason might I possibly have now
for walking Grafton Street?