Whatever next!
I must have swallowed too much salt water as I am hallucinating sun umbrellas and swimmers on Brighton Beach at 7 in the evening!
Broadstairs and Beyond
You can’t put a fruit pastel in your mouth without chewing it and I can’t walk past a lighthouse with sketching it.
This is North Foreland Lighthouse in Kent.
Early evening on Broadstairs Beach. Beautiful.
Beached
On yer bike!
Lycraphobes locked their doors today as the London to Brighton Bike Ride hit town.
Not even stopping to shake some Lycra in Bar Broadway.
Friday feeling
The i360 has landed. 
The Smoke House is being bombarded.
It must be Friday evening in Brighton and Hove.
Knock recipe
To make the perfect day out in Knock, Ireland:
1. Take 4 Aqua Brushes of holy water.
2. Add one sketchbook and souvenir shop.
3.Mix well with paint and prepare for an apparition.
Top Tips
Here are some useful tips I picked up at Ireland’s National Museum of Country Life:
- Next Halloween I’m going to be putting on my Fiddle Face and bothering the neighbours with my Ghost Turnip.
- When I leave the baby to go to the well, I will put my tongs across the cradle to keep the fairies away.
- Next time someone doesn’t invite me to their wedding, I will disguise myself in straw, including a pointy ‘Strawboys’ hat and drink all the booze.
- If a Brideog knocks on my door on the 1st February, I’ll let her in and be nice.
Steamy windows
Some might say you must be particularly desperate to drive an hour and a half for a bath.
Usually I would agree, but what about if it also involved sitting in a massive steamy Edwardian box? 
…and the bath water was brown and slimy?
Wash that down with an ice cold shower and your Kilcullen’s seaweed bath experience is complete.
I highly recommend it! Although sketching in the bath is definitely no walk in the park. Particularly when weighted down with seaweed.
Again! Again!
A Personal Pilgrimage
The top of Croagh Patrick has been covered in a tiny toupee of mist for most of the week, giving me a fantastic excuse not to walk up it.
Today, although it was a grey day, the summit was surprisingly clear. So I had to find a new reason.
At the foot of the mountain, I consulted with Holy Mary through the medium of sketch. When she turned into Fanny Craddock on my page, I took it as a clear sign that heading to the summit spelled doom.
I abandoned the disastrous sketch and opted to do the Murrisk loop. A lovely walk with plenty of sketching and no slippery scree.
After my run in with Mary, I went subtle on St Patrick’s face.
The views of Clew Bay are excellent. Even the sheep agree. Here’s Clare Island and the beautiful spit of Betra Beach.
Down in the village I finally got to see the Fisherman’s Memorial. Those cyclists took off pretty quickly. Must have been the way I looked at them! 
My personal pilgrimage could only end at the Sheebeen with a bottle of Westport, Mescan.
Ghost town
The track to the deserted village on Achill Island is blinding white.
The sparkling Quartzite from the former stone quarry sits in stark contrast to the pitch black of the peat brick wigwams drying in the sun.
The village itself is silent, save for the twitter of little brown bog birds and the odd ‘baa’ of the horny sheep.
Around the bend, a little way on, we are faced with bus-loads of tourists in the not-so-deserted part of of the village.
I’m all sketched out so I make my way through the huffing puffing crowds.
If you are heading this way I definitely recommend setting off from the famous ‘lost beach‘, in Dooagh. Particularly since they’ve found it again now!
cmoorelife 