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.
Today, although it was a grey day, the summit was surprisingly clear. So I had to find a new reason.
I abandoned the disastrous sketch and opted to do the 
The views of Clew Bay are excellent. Even the sheep agree. Here’s 
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 
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.
On the way down to Grace’s dungeon a young girl ran at me whispering in a loud hiss ‘this house is haunted!!’ I swear I saw the ghostly figure of the pirate queen in a swan pedalo.
That was not as spooky as the fantastic ‘party waxwork room’ full of Irish artistic talent. Their eyes follow you everywhere to the sound of the fiddle… I wasn’t sticking around to add colour!
I calmed down with coffee and cake in the tea room. Trying not to think about what those massive hooks on the ceiling were for. I’m sure that stag just winked at me!
Beach-watching and sunburn at Lettergesh.
After being bombarded with rain drops the size of apples at Aashleagh falls, I was relieved to stand, legs akimbo and dry my trousers at the 
The weather continued to race through this sobering spot where hundreds died in 1849.
cmoorelife 