Joyriders, Omey Island

I traveled up to Clifden for the Arts Week and spent two nights there, something I've never done before. I arrived at about 6.30 in the evening, just in time for a very moving poetry reading by Carol Ann Duffy, embedded in a recital by the National Chamber Choir in the small Protestant church on the hillside above the village. Candles flickered in the window alcoves. The voices crept under my skin, into my blood, so I was choking back tears.

I spent much of the two days with J and his wife S, old friends of mine. Next day they took me for a drive over to see Omey Island. You can walk across to it during low tide, which is what we did. Various writers and artists have lived there. At first I thought this perfect circle was an artwork/installation, till someone told me they'd seen young lads in a car, joyriding.