New Girl

My last few days on Achill were messy…

I feel like I didn’t sleep for a week, doing all the things I’ve been meaning to do all summer, such as going out on Kevin’s fishing boat and lifting the lobster pots.

Don’t ask me why I chose to do this particular task on a day when I was atrociously hungover, after returning from the beach at 6am and rising at 7.30 for the breakfast shift.

Must have been that ‘seize the day’ attitude.

Let me paint a picture:

Very choppy sea
Grey skies
The stench of day old fish in the bait bucket, festering in it’s own juices
Kevin, his dad, Anke the German, little Cecilia from Taiwan and myself wearing the chunkiest life jacket known to mankind
Slippery boat floor

My task was to reach into the bait bucket (without falling over head first or suffocating myself in my life jacket), pick up a dead rancid fish, shove it into the netting in the pots, smush it’s little face in real good, then pass the pot to Kevin. I think everyone else enjoyed my hungover state far too much….

‘That one smells nice!’
‘Think of Patricks sweaty brown socks sweltering in the sunshine!’ ‘Deeeeeeep breath in there’
‘Shove it in HARDER Rosie, don’t be such a fussy girl!’ (normally I would have made a joke here but I hadn’t the gusto)..

Needless to say I spent a good hour in the corner leaning over the side, gazing at my reflection in the water and avoiding Kevin’s gleeful face as he watched me nearly be sick many a time. I’m sure it’s super fun usually, but whooooeeeeeeee. Dat stench. Anke’s life jacket nearly strangled her when she accidentally inflated, we lost the rope hook over the side, we nearly lost Cecilia between the two boats, and I became vommy. Not ideal.

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That weekend we had a huge group of cyclists staying in the hostel, who had obviously been consuming too much fibre and were farting violently in the pub. I looked pointedly at the main culprit when he did it for the second time, and he just shrugged and said “old age and Guinness farts for ya love!”

Pretty sure getting old doesn’t excuse farting. At least TRY to conceal.

These cyclists were a bit mad and drank all of the alcohol in the pub. At 4 o’clock in the morning, when we thought we were the only ones left awake, we discovered a middle aged woman in the middle cubicle of the bathroom, pants off, slumped forward on the toilet with her face down in her knickers. We tried to stir her and she leapt to action, walking into the door which was actually the slot machine.

I think she overdid it. I felt very sensible and sober seeing that.

Now, working in the valley you do get used to the gaze of older men. But on my last night I received unwanted attention from an older woman, who is the sister of the valley regular. She must be approximately 65, and she “loves my way”. Also my bum, apparently.

A self esteem boost if nothing else.

So my last weekend on Achill was a strange old one, with minimal sleep, a tandem midnight cycle trip, beach parties, awesome weather, a Talking Heads revival, humorous hungover people, beach football, a hurling match, and a fair few tears.

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It was a slightly weepy drive to Westport then down to Killary in Connemara, where I will be spending the next 2 months working at Killary Adventure Centre.

Jeananne and I are living in a house with I don’t know how many males, but you just know they are boys from the state of the place. I shall apply a woman’s touch.

We get all the activities for free (kayaking, Killary cruise, rock climbing, windsurfing, wake boarding, bungee jumping, and plenty more), and we also get FREE SEAWEED BATHS which was a deal clincher for me. All food and accommodation is provided plus monthly pay, and we work 8 hours daily with two days off per week. It’s like the Valley House on speed, and my body is struggling to keep up after a few months of relaxed Achill lifestyle, but I will get there.

The Killary Centre is right in front of Killary Fjord which makes for awesome views. Last night we went to Westport to pick up our bikes and cycle them back – such a sexy sunset.

From one spectacular place to another! I seem to be drawn to the places that are in the middle of nowhere….

Now I’m the newbie again. Right now they all think I’m normal….. They’re in for a shocker.

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2 thoughts on “New Girl

  1. Hi Rosie πŸ™‚ I don’t know if you remember me – Zoe the replacement NZer at Brenazet ;). Since then I have been following your funny wee blog, and I just love it! It never fails to make me laugh right out loud. Even when I am in the Uni library where you aren’t allowed to laugh. Good luck with the new home in Killary – I am sure it will be amazing :). And if we ever find ourselves back in NZ at the same time, maybe we could meet up for a chat. I guess that would be weird though πŸ˜‰ I know you more than you probably know me – as I have been stalking you via the blog.

    1. Zoe! I thought i had replied to this but it must have all been in my head. Thanks so much for reading, i also read your blog and i especially love all your amazing photography of food πŸ™‚ how did you find your time at brenazet? Im in NZ for the summer but heading back over to europe in april. Where are you now? I remember you dont have facebook but you can email me at rosie.moreton@gmail.com. Its good to stay in touch with fellow nomads! Xx

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