A stolen break on Easter Monday and Tuesday. A stay in the little harbour town of Killybegs in Donegal. It was far enough away to feel like an adventure, yet close enough not to be a big deal. I was looking forward to catching up with M, there wasn’t much to do but walk along the windy harbour, have tea in Mrs B’s and have a wee drink or two in the local bars where we stuck out like sore thumbs. I even got aggressively chatted up, if you could call it that, despite my boyfriend sitting beside me, on more than one occasion. (This is somewhat of a first for me, it was a little unwelcome.) At breakfast we sat at the window of the Tara Hotel and watched the slow process of mending and cleaning the fishing nets, which I found fascinating, and comforting. Perhaps a metaphor for something important. I found a tiny strand of net on the ground later and put it in my pocket. A souvenir.
Although it was almost a week ago, my mind keeps straying back to those two bright blue happy days.
(If you click the image of my future album cover *ahem* you can see a few other pictures of Killybegs on my Flickr which I have recently ressurected.)