Right. It's all been a bit go go go. and when it hasn't, there's been no internet. Currently, im sitting in the laundry room of an RV park on a friend's laptop in a town called Watson Lake which is on the Yukon territory in Canada. It's on the Alaska highway and that's about all it has going for it. that and a collection of over 65,000 signposts. I'll try explain in the most interesting way how i got here.
On the 8th of June Laura and I went to see Radiohead in Malahide castle. I all kinda starts from there. After the concert we drove to hers and she packed her bag for morocco and i dropped her and her family to the airport. I had already said goodbye to my folks, grandparents, most of my family and a good few friends. Saying goodbye to Laura was tough. I drove home to my folks and slept for a few hours, moved out of my house in stillorgan, packed everything into long-term storage. The next few days are a panic-riddled haze. Q kept an eye on me through phone calls and a nice dinner in Ballsbridge. Cheers Q, always when you're needed! Somewhere in the hazey few days I managed to though what I thought I would need to live for at least 6 months away into a bag. I forgot my hiking socks. And any sort of jacket. Idiot.
Anyway, Q invited me for some music and beers in the studio on my last night. these are the results, although the bass can't really be heard. Probably better off!
http://youtube.com/watch?v=hmTYfZ_v2Sw&feature=related
http://youtube.com/watch?v=6thDqFB4x6Q
Q dropped me to the bus to Belfast. I decided that I would take as many opportunities during my travels as was reasonably possible. The first presented itself in the form of two Poles on the bus from Belfast to the airport who insisted I drink whiskey and coke with them. they had convinced themselves by the end of the journey that I was a drug dealer and that I would sell them grass upon my return. Must have been some break-down in communication. So, I boarded tipsy and watched the north slide out of view resenting that the last Irish land I saw wasn't the republic.
Plane journey ensued. The weather was the same in Vancouver as when I left Ireland, overcast, too cold for a t-shirt and too hot for a hoodie. And it was roughly the same time. First impressions of Vancouver was that it smelled like a river.
Dave and Alice met me in the airport and took me back to Whistler.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment