Reading While Waiting

Once we left Bear Island on Saturday afternoon that was the last of our walking. Saturday evening we had been invited to table tennis and what was a wonderful supper, prepared by Freespiral (trifle) and Himself (chilli), and hosted by Annabel and Klaus. The first few matches were the best we've ever enjoyed, close and hard fought affairs with some impressively long rallies. It has to be revealed that Freespiral has now mastered my tricksiness and in response conjured up a few tricks of her own. I had no answer. I suspect she has secretly acquired a coach in advance of my visit. She'd make a great hustler. She appears all giggles at the table, feigning a 'couldn't care less approach', then unleashes a series of vicious returns out of nowhere. She remained undefeated with every partner with whom she was paired. I need to do some practice of my own before returning. Watch out my dear. My manly pride has been wounded!

Sunday was a complete wash-out. It started raining overnight and never stopped all day. Indeed, it got heavier as the day went on. There was no respite at all and on the bus from Bantry to Cork I heard flood warnings being issued. Strange to think that in Engand, not so very far away, the boys were playing cricket on a pleasant if not spectacular summer's day. But it didn't matter. I slept in and enjoyed a very chilled day at home with TJ. I think that not achieving much was possibly what was meant to be. And the time disappeared just as rapidly as it usually does when we are packing it all in!

So very little opportunity for photography but I rather liked the way all the people here waiting for our flight to Manchester were in different modes of reading, a Kindle, a phone, a book and a newspaper. I guess it won't be too long before the latter gives way to the former but I suspect there will always be a place for the book. In my lifetime anyway!

The only drama to the whole journey back - which went car-bus-bus-plane-bus-train-train - eight and a half hours door to door, everything bang on time, was that they gave me the wrong boarding pass at the airport. As usual, stuck in a book, I was the last to board and promptly told that this was not my flight. I had the boarding pass for a passenger of the same name flying to Heathrow! Fortunately, with a few phone calls, and having checked in no luggage, it was all sorted out fairly quickly. And, for once, it wasn't my fault!