dawesberry adventures my view of the big family adventure.

Farewelling Seamus wasn’t very easy. I’d had a good time in Dingle, and loved being around the old language, not sure that we’d have such a music filled time as we’d had there. Plus, I reckon we’d had such gorgeous weather (one day being the hottest in 10 years, and beautiful locals), genaology trails (or trials), great family accommodation, small town feel. But we were surely thinking that we must make our way up the coast in order to visit Steve Cooney, who I’m sure, is my Steve’s main draw to Ireland. So, we drove out of Dingle, with Maire & Mauve Begley, catching a lift in our campervan to the Kerry airport. At the airport, because we were so running very late, we were attempting to drop them off quickly, and as we said goodbye to them outside of the van. Steve thought he saw Maire throw a small bit of rubbish into the driver’s area, and when he asked if that’s what she did, she quickly said goodbye, and darted off. It was a wadded up 20euro note! So silly, cuz we just spent a week at their place, and we weren’t going out of our way to drive them to the airport! Well, at least we learned a new trick for leaving money with people. So, we drive to Ennis and arrive in time to see some shops before closing time. Steve has texted Cooney to find out if there are any excellent sessions to be found. Awaiting an answer…. Ennis seems like a sweet sized city. I thought I might like it here. Our plan would be to stay the night nearby, but to sort of backtrack to Limerick for the next night, because Jim Murray had invited us to Sharon Shannon’s concert (being filmed and recorded for DVD). So, we thought we’d get a bite, rather than cooking in the van in the parking lot. However, all the afternoon places were closing. So we consulted our guidebook, and found that there should be a good cheap place to eat at a nearby location, but it wasn’t very fruitful, so we bought some groceries and got a good - though hungry -glimpse of the town. I still liked it. I think we decided just to have Guinness for dinner. Making a meal was too much at the moment. So, we went to the pub that Cooney had texted us to go to. It was sweet inside. But we were too early. Steve sat down at the door where the muso’s reserved place. Here, insert 1 hour of separation which we will dwell no furthur on. I did, in my separate experience, walk the town in search of an internet café and found a good one that we would spend more time at on our new daily task, selling the van. Anyway, when I returned, a full session was happening and it was pumping. The musicians were always kept well full of their drink of choice, no matter how many musicians there were. I can’t say the same thing happens in Australia. This was a delightful session. There was a lady sitting next to Steve, but she understood that she was in my place and she and I had some good chatting for the rest of the night. Her husband was a geneaologist and he gave me all kinds of info about any of the family names that I gave him, where in Ireland they originated, plus useful sites on the internet. That got me excited about doing some further family tree exploring. Steve didn’t really play much, it didn’t seem like it was going over quite well. Well, guitar isn’t really welcomed on the irish scene (unless you are Steve Cooney), and this night was no exception. It was great to just listen. There was an excellent whistler there and I was so glad that steve had brought the minidisc and was recording the tunes. I might be able to learn some of the tunes! Like, slowly, in the future. The Bawdy Ladies Room. Well, this was interesting. Different customs. Okay. I went to pee but when I went to the ladies room, I discovered a very small area with a sink, and two stalls, both occupied. There was already a woman waiting for these two, so I opted to wait outside, as there didn’t seem enough room and, heck, I thought a bit of privacy would be polite. (remember the “etiquette bell” in korean airport? Well, I didn’t stand RIGHT at the entrance, because then I would have been looking at the men going in and out of the men’s room, so I waited nearby. Well, two women walked right past me and into the ladies room. Hmph. Ok, the custom is different, obviously. One woman leaves. So, I stand closer, and dare to risk having to look at the men going in their room. Surely this is close enough, and the room is stuffed with women already. But, no! another woman walks right by me, into the ladies room. Thankfully, she pokes her head out and asks if I am waiting, I say that it doesn’t matter (I’m busting!!!), and then she insists that I go ahead. I go in. Two stalls open! And I get one. At the same time, another of the waiting ladies goes into the other stall, and another lady leaves the room (I can hear all this). As soon as that lady left, the one on the stall that she vacated, says, “oh, my, the SEAT is hot! She must’ve been on it for ages!!! Ha ha ha!” , the others laughing, the lady that insisted that I go ahead announces how busting she is, then I am done, open the door and she thanks me for being so quick and everybody has another giggle. So, I would say that irish ladies room’s are more bawdy than Korean, or even, Australian! We found somewhere towards Limerick to sleep.