Travel Lodging: CLON
My Dear Fellow, I Can Assure You, I Am Anything But, "Still Drunk"!
I’VE FAILED MISERABLY TO CREATE A LINKABLE SUB PAGE TO ADEQUATELY SEPARATE MY WORK FOR NOW, SO I’M JUST GOING TO STEAM AHEAD HERE TILL SUBSTACK (OR I) CATCH UP TECHNOLOGICALLY WITH WHAT IT IS I WAS THINKING OF DOING.
THE PROBLEM WITH THIS IS THAT THERE ARE ALL THESE UNPUBLISHED PIECES, I INITIALLY UNPUBLISHED TO SEPARATE INTO PROSE AND MORE ARTICLE OR OPINION BASED STUFF INTO TWO DISCERNIBLE PAGES I ERRONEOUSLY THOUGHT WAS EASILY ACHIEVABLE, WHERE THE READER COULD JUST CLICK BETWEEN THE TWO PAGES ON MY PROFILE PAGE BUT, I JUST CAN’T SEEM TO SORT THAT OUT YET AND AS I’M UNWILLING TO FILL ALL YOUR INBOXES AND FEEDS WITH THIS “REPUBLISHED” STUFF, I’M GOING TO LEAVE IT OFF TILL I CAN MANAGE TO REPUBLISH WITHOUT PISSING EVERYONE OFF. BUT ANYWAY…
THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN LAST SUNDAY MORNING IN CLONAKILTY (OR “CLON” AS IT IS REFERRED TO HERE IN CORK) AFTER WAKING FROM A HEAVY GALLIVANT WITH SOME FRIENDS. I DIDN’T PUBLISH IT AT THE TIME AS THE PHONE RAN OUT OF JUICE, AND FORGOT IT WAS EVEN THERE UNTIL A WHILE AGO BUT, THOUGHT IT MAY BE OF BENEFIT TO THE PSYCHIATRIC PROFESSION IN RELATION TO THE THOUGHT PROCESSES OF DRUNKS WHO THINK THEY’VE SOBERED UP, AND THINK THEY’RE NOW PERFECTLY RATIONAL AND COHERENT…OR MAYBE JUST A BIT OF A LAUGH. BUT ANYWAY, HOPE SOMEONE GETS SOMETHING FROM IT.
The Beaked Smurf , or as it is even more commonly referred to as, the Blue Swan, here around Clonakilty Bay, is a mysterious animal, only rivaled by its counterpart or rather its predecessor, the Red Signet….oh wait, let me take my shades off…actually no, it’s…just a normal swan.
(Above photo of swan, not swan from Clon)
In this truly mysterious part of our beautiful land, Cork and no other, the morning sun takes on a long drawn purple hue and the possibilities seem endless and fraught with potentiality, for near endless hours of drunken fun.
If ever a place were to exist where copious comely maidens drenched in Carlsberg and Jameson were possible, this is it, and I understand these acquisitions could manifest frequent and immediate if only it weren’t 7:45 on a Sunday morning. Today, a holy disgrace was born and tagged, John.
Caution be damned, a breakfast roll and here I come. Ya. Afterward, find a local drunk and surveil till frowned upon, but tollerated, local early house locate.
Ignore imminent texts from lazy worthless couch-sewn friends, and consider bus home, much later on. They made their beds!! I should never go anywhere again without my own horse. That’s another bad idea but I’ve a gold mine full of ‘em. Magpies, Wagtails, seaweed and algae, stone walls in the cold sun and waving passengers in slowing cars. This place has got it all!
ONE HOUR LATER (odd)
What nasty tricks the mind and brain are capable of playing on each other. Where does the one end and other…end. Is that even the way it works! An hour ago the previous unholy drivel seemed funny to, at least one of these entities, but now, no one is laughing and one or two of them is threatening to punish me with a panic or even, an anxiety attack, for ever even staging such ill-considered scutter and disproportion. Oh look, here’s just some pictures of Clon.
HUH?
YEP
An astounding example of a petrol station sign post.
Another marvel of the modern era. Shame it’s closed, I’d eat a crow for a Neurofen
A crow.
THE END
THIS IS WHERE THE ORIGINAL ARTICLE ENDED BUT FOR ANYONE WHO TOOK ON THE TRAUMA OF GETTING THIS FAR, HERE’S SOME “NICER PHOTOS” (AND VIDS) OF CLON AND TOE HEAD TO TRY MAKE UP FOR IT.
The Stags (Island), Off Toe Head Bay.