Irishman Abroad

I continue to be grateful to my fellow IB'ers for inspiration.

This post is inspired by........drum roll, cymbal etc.......Hermit Life whose 47th birthday it is today.

That means she was born in 1961. What a year that was......

Good old Yuri went in to Outer Space, Bob Dylan burst on to the music scene and loads of other pretty scary stuff happened....Bay of Pigs Fiasco, the Berlin Wall going up, the Cold War was coming to the boil.

They were turbulent times.

How things change.

Life on 21st Century Earth has settled down, we've learnt so much. We all love each other, we've stopped killing each other, we all live in perfect harmony regardless of race or religion or political idealogy.

Don't you just love it.

If only t'were true.

Is there any hope for us.

I wonder. No, I despair.

I don't think I've led a particularly sheltered life (living as a teenager in 1970's Northern Ireland certainly focused the mind) but I've met very few true bigots, the true complete and utter b*****ds, if you get my drift, motivated by any heartfelt beliefs, they really are scary.

The one thing I have encountered is what I call 'Mindless Thuggery' usually perpetrated by people too stupid to have any credible beliefs.

Mindless Thuggery manifests itself in many ways, the list is not exhaustive:

Beat someone up because they are:

Different
Black
White
Catholic
Protestant
They support Rangers
They support Celtic
They're gay
They're straight
They have curly/straight/ginger/greasy/long/short/no hair
They wear glasses
They smell
They have spots
They're short
They're tall
They're rich
They're poor
They're posh
They're common
They're dead clever
They're not quite so clever
They're less able bodied than the rest of us

and if all else fails beat them up because......

They're there.

The 'Mindless Thug' will think of a reason.

Lyrics are easy to write down but music is a little tricky, but you people out there will get my drift.

Todays blog has been inspired by......Lonely in Lewis. Sorry, but there isn't a prize.

Loneliness is something that has always puzzled me.

I am never more lonely than with a crowd of people I don't know and never less lonely than at home with the dog. Or out walking on the beach, or in the hills. As long as there are no people around.

But....sometimes, at home, looking out over the sea from my kitchen, the table set, glass of wine poured, a meal to be served, how much more enjoyable it would be with someone else there to share the setting sun.

I'm reminded of the poem by that great Liverpool poet, Roger McGough:

"Vinegar

sometimes
i feel like a priest
in a fish & chip queue
quietly thinking
as the vinegar runs through
how nice it would be
to buy supper for two"

But, hey, what the heck....you can always resort to drink.

I''m afraid there won't be any pictures of my dog on IB. He's the most beautiful, dog in the whole world, well at least this part of the whole world and the risk of kidnap (dognap?) is too great. As Martin Clunes said on telly the other night about his Lab 'Arthur', he's the son I never had.

Evening plane got cancelled today, fog, mist etc. I'd hate to be marooned on the Mainland.

Went walking in the hills of South Uist today, didn't see a living soul, wonderful. The weather closed in, I got soaked and eventually found my way back to the car. The dog was happy, he'd had a good walk.

What is it about these islands.......so remote (if you're in London) and yet for us so accessible. I spent 3 hours wandering about in the pouring rain and didn't see another human being.....in July. Apparently some people come up here on holiday for just such an experience and pay money to do so.

I get it all for free.

Actually the first part of the walk was fantastic, the sun was shining and the hills were beautiful. Next time I'll look at the local weather forecast, and perhaps wear the correct clothing!!

I walked himself this morning in the pouring rain. In many ways it's good to get back to a good old Uist summer, howling gales, rain etc., less people about. I got absolutely soaked but the dog was as happy as a pig in the proverbial and his coat is so much softer after being washed by the pure Uist rain.

I passed a couple of tourists on their bicycles as I drove to where I was going to walk the dog. They were struggling against the elements and I thought at least I'll be going back to a nice warm house and a nice cup of tea.

Aren't tourists funny, some seem to be looking for a glorified theme park, picnic tables, ice cream stalls, kiss-me-quick hats etc. Others seem to expect a community preserved in aspic. I remember a couple of years ago, a letter in the Gazette from a tourist moaning about seeing abandoned cars on crofts. What an eyesore, you'd never see such a thing in towns and cities would you. But I suppose the countryside should be in pristine condition ready for the tourists, we should all be there in our traditional dress and tugging our forelocks.

I appreciate it's all about balance, we are increasingly reliant on tourism, but at the end of the day this is a living vibrant community with most of the problems that all societies face. I believe that tourists should be encouraged to come here and appreciate the uniqueness of these beautiful islands whilst also realising that we live here all the year round and face much the same issues that the rest of Britain has to deal with.

And remember, all you tourists, "Passing Place" is not Gaelic for "Parking Place", it's English for the bit in the road where you stop to have a craic with your mates.

And just when you thought this was a piece of serious social comment.....