For some reason the Chantal Kreviazuk song popped into my head today. Not sure if it's because our furniture is scheduled to arrive from California tomorrow or if it's because we just came back from Ireland and I may have slipped into that post fun festival funk...
Either way, last Tuesday, Mark and I hopped on a plane from Frankfurt to sunny Dublin (yes you read that right - it was actually sunny in Ireland in August!). We rented a car and drove north through Belfast to the Heart of the Glens Festival in Cushendall. The new motorway had just opened so for 2 1/2 hours I listened to Mark exclaim "I can't believe how quick this is! I remember when it used to take an hour just to get this far!" (I also believe he was walking barefoot in the snow up hill back then, but I digress...)
As per our usual, we arrived at his mum's place, ate a wonderful dinner and immediately took off into the village to find his old high school friends for a drink. (Although his mum did come with us, so we didn't feel too bad about eating and running...). Day one passed and we were reasonably unscathed (we got home around 2am? That's early!).
Day 2 was nice and relaxing - take away for the chinese in the village and in bed by midnight. I thought I had finally cracked the secrets of the lasting the week with Mark's friends!
Day 3, however, was a completely different story. It started innocently enough with tickets to the seafood barbecue at the boat club. Sounds like a classy event at the club right? Sure, Klassy - with a K. After the Kearney's and the O'Gradys got hold of bottles of wine, it was all down hill. We eventually were kicked out of the "supper" area and told to go upstairs where the fire was going, the bar was open and the band was playing. Sure enough, we were eventually kicked out of upstairs too and told just to go home. I think it was close to 4am? Not sure...
Day 4 was "Dallywood" night (ie everyone dresses up like movie actors and characters and drinks in the street...there were an inordinate number of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...are they making a comeback? Only in Belfast...) A much quieter night I must say - likely in response to the night before. Eventually when we all got together again, we were able to piece together what happened the night before (and what happened after everyone went home - needless to say, one person had to sleep in the car to avoid her snoring husband, locking everyone else inside the house, someone else passed out on the couch with a peanut butter sandwich, and more than one parent had to walk their kids to hat making class the next day (some in their night gowns I might add) because they really "shouldn't have been driving". I love the festival. The only potential downside is that the girls have agreed to get dressed up next year and since I'm technically unemployed, I'm in charge of costumes. I really need a job!
Saturday was the traditional Lurig run ( a 3.5 mile run from the Curfew Tower to the top of the Lurig and back - 1150 feet high) and given my new career as a fitness model, I must do the run next year - just to inspire the little people. Training starts tomorrow...
Sadly, we were headed back to the Fatherland on Sunday and I really think I hit a funk having to leave the fun behind.
So now, I'm sitting on the floor in our near empty apartment (the rental furniture was picked up today) waiting for our stuff to arrive tomorrow. Time to find something else to occupy my time...hopefully something that involves a bit less wine...people will start to think I have a problem!
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