The weather looks promising enough my gang decides to take the ferry to Clare Island. Though I have Dramamine, the results are iffy for me when it comes to boats, so I opt to stay back.

My life-long motion sickness deal is an annoyance. I love the water, but just can’t travel on it comfortably. I like trains, but am inevitably sick on them. It does get me out of wild amusement park rides I’d rather skip anyway, so there’s that advantage. Always a silver lining.

I get in an hour’s workout, using various DVDs I brought along for a nice mix of everything. Then I spend most of the day in the bitter winter of New York in the dawning days of 2061. Make some nice progress on the second draft. Still lots of work needed, but the progress tells me the story makes sense. And where I feel it doesn’t, I fix and fiddle until it does.

Housekeeping comes along while I’m working, so I ask her to just do the bedroom and baths. Hotel work is always productive work for me. No real interruptions or distractions.

But I’m on vacation! So when I hit a satisfying point, I shut it down.

The shower here is stuck on Very, Very Hot. Initially it was stuck on Very Hot which is pretty perfect for me. Not so much for BW. They came up to fix, but the fix bumped it up instead of down. It’s a bit much even for me, so I try the big tub, and it’s nice.

I take a little walk, which is also nice, though it decided to drizzle seconds after I stepped out. Still it’s all cool, damp air and mists, and a nice change from sitting in front of my laptop. I enjoy the flowers, and the view from the little hill in back of our room. At one point I round the back path and get a jolt with I see a man crouching in the hydrangeas. Then see he’s weeding.

After the walk, I settle down to check mail, play on my iPad, and hear the gang return.

Lots of laughs here as they describe their day.

Kat agrees it would’ve been a rough passage for me, however short. Once there, they think to rent bikes. But the bike rental place is out of them. They think to check out the Heritage Center, but it’s closed for the afternoon.

Stunning views–high cliffs, long spreading beaches–and the pictures I see prove it. There’s one little store, at least that they’ve seen, a few shops, a couple restaurants. A lot of people, I’m told, swimming. Hardy souls, no doubt with the temperature of both water and air.

They tour Grace O’Malley’s castle, which is quite small, but looks charming to me in the photos. They take a cab (van) tour, brokering a deal to include a couple from I think they said Letterkenny. The driver is actually the daughter of the driver, but her Ma is off-island today. Kat found the number for the service, called, and said she actually heard the phone ring in the cottage.

Rain came and went there as it did here, and they sit out some with lunch in one of the restaurants.

Sheep, cows, water, crashing waves, a long beach. A solitary, independent life for the under 150 people who live there. I wonder what it would be like, the quiet and solitude.

And according to the driver, when asked, many might be the Pirate Queen’s descendents as nearly everyone who lives there is an O’Malley.

Apparently the lighthouse was sold and is being fashioned into an up-scale hotel. Wouldn’t that be interesting?

We opt for dinner right here, and go down to the dining area of the bar. Our waiter is dryly funny, tries to talk Kat out of the vegetarian meal as he doesn’t think it’s worth the price. When she asks if it’s tasty, he deadpans that everything on the menu is tasty.

I enjoy my little dish of pasta, and try a glass of the organic champagne. It’s very nice, so I order a bottle. I get another glass. Hmm. It’s still very nice, and so’s the company. It’s a fun, casual meal, with plans beginning for the next day. I walk back to the room for the guide books so we can sort it all out.

And there’s a third glass of champagne. Oh my. When we try to sort THAT out, we’re told they’ve got the bottle on ice for me. We think maybe we’ll drive to Ceide Fields–I’ve likely spelled that wrong as I don’t have the guide right here. (Laura’s note — she got it in one.) It’s pronounced cage-a. It’s a distance, heading north, but sounds like just the thing. And there’s stops along the way if we want.

I collect my bottle, we pay the bill, and come back here to map out the route, which by Jason’s googling, is about an hour and a half. Into the little fridge with my bottle. I’ll enjoy a glass after today’s adventure. And all tucked into bed by eleven.

The sun’s shining again–at least for now. BW’s down at breakfast. Time to get dressed and see what the day brings.

Nora

And now some of Jason’s photos from Clare Island.