An Truelight, A "Bad Mor" or the big Hooker. 44 ft LOA
“An Húicéir” Hooker day
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Diane and I arrived to Ireland at 5 am in the morning after a pleasent journey from the home city of Boston. Ireland has been experiencing a cold spell, with temperatures near freezing. Combined with the humidity, it is pretty cold here! Diane suggested that we watch the sunrise near the ocean. We hoped off the bus right before Dublin city by the industrial warf. We stood on a bridge over the mouth of the River Liffey; the main river that streams through downtown Dublin. Wizzing cars and blowing gales made for a very cold experience! We braved the weather and saw the days first light, before retreating leeward to downtown Dublin. Our hostel welcomed us warmly, and we enjoyed community breakfast with some pleasant conversations with so other travelers. Then we passed out. I messaged friends to see if there was anyone I knew in Dublin. Lo and behold a long lost Canadian friend I met in the squatter community in New Orleans has been living here! Ben invited us to his humble squat house for a visit. A confusing attempt to use the local bus system lead us to pay about $5 a piece to ride the bus one mile. After we walked the working class neighborhoods to my buddies house. He lives in a squat house, which means that the property was derelict. Some of his friends "cracked" the squat, opening it and making it livable. I've been to many squat houses around the world, and this one was one of the nicer ones. They have electricity and running water, and a place to cook along with a fireplace in each room! Ben opened the door, and our kinship revived as if 7 years was just a day. He brought us into his room where he built a loft bed near the ceiling. He had cleaned his room of construction debris for us and put together a little bench for us to sit on. After introductions and a quick catch up, he announced to us that he prepared some food for us! He remembered that I was a vegetarian, and had a wonderful stew of onions, brocholi, kale, carrots, and a very welcomed broth! He collected discarded food from grocery stores, referred to in the US as "dumpster diving". I've done a bit of dumpster diving, and one would be amazed as to find what people throw away. The stew went down with cheer and celebration, a refuge from the cold wind. Out came the mandolin, of which I didn't know Ben t play. When I met Ben in NewOrleans he was a fiddle player, and played for a band called "Profane Sass". I was pleased to see that he had picked up a new instrument! Naturally I asked about the band, and was horrified to hear that the lead singer and song writer, Tomas, had died while train hoping. He was a beautiful man with a heart of gold. This indeed was sad news. The true beauty of the the visit came to life. Ben jammed away traditional Irish songs that he has learned while living in this enchanting country. His knowledge of styles seemed limitless, as he sampled away different types of "trad"(traditional) songs. In came his roommate, Sean, an Irish man. He too is a musician and squatter. Ben is in a band with him. Sean opened us up to the world of the Irish housing crisis, telling us stories of how gentrification was a strong force, decimating the Irish people with huge living costs. WE discussed the drug and alcohol epidemic that is taking many Irish lives as well.He also revealed the interesting world of Irish music. He was incredibly knowledgable of the history and styles of Irish music. He is a singer song writer, and his speaking voice and passion made it clear that he is a wonderful musician. Ben continued to play us Irish songs on his banjo and mandolin, switching back and forth throughout the night. He shared with us many of his favorite musicians, and the phones were out playing the sweet sounds of Irish music. We laughed, we sat with our eyes closed and listened to the Irish language and the sound stories they told. Totally exhausted and jet lagged, yet full of happiness from our visit, Ben escorted us back to our hostel. A proper gentleman indeed! This is a grand experience. One that was not planned. A view into the local life and culture of Ireland. |
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