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It's All One Country Irish skies were not smiling. The ever-present dimness and rain had somewhat dampened Sharon's usually sunny outlook and she was as grouchy as a wet Griz. Sharon trimmed my beard today. An important piece of advice to remember: Never make your beard trimmer angry with you. Just call me Patchy. We agreed to a truce to the stinging criticisms; but secretly, I prayed for sunshine. Another deluge struck and we squished the remaining three kilometers into Boyle. Sharon went into a store for groceries. Two women cyclists were waiting outside the store for the bus. They had endured enough of this rain and were going to catch the bus somewhere, anywhere, drier. To pass the time I chatted with them. "Where are you from?" I asked. "Germany," the lithe blond replied. Even though they possessed red waterproof Ortliebs, they didn't appear too jolly. Many of the Germans we met told us whether they came from east or west Germany. (Especially, if they were from the East.) I asked, "Are you from the east or the west?" "It's all one country now, you know!" the blond spat cattily. "Really. When was it two?" I wanted to know. I should have guessed they were Wessies. The traveling Ossies were more exuberant and curious. Leaving for more friendly climes, Sharon and I went to the park by Lake *. The ride was through rolling hills filled with lakes. A collection booth sat in the middle of the road. Approaching the booth, the girl faced the other way, reading a book while listening to headphones. We banged on the glass and waited patiently. Failing to attract her attention we rode into the park. Forest lined the wide boulevard-like road. The picnic area was immediately in front of the lake. Motorboat tours droned to a castle situated on a small island in the center of the lake. Under a large tree providing shelter from the sporadic showers I crunched a bowl of Muesli, then devoured egg salad sandwiches, banana cake and tea. Crows waited patiently on the periphery. As soon as we abandoned ship they moved in to cleanup scraps. There was a campground in the park. We went there and used the delightfully hot coin-showers. We cycled just outside the park's fenced perimeter; all the while Sharon harangued we should have set up inside the park. I found a secluded spot in the forest. Sharon made a resolution to stop grumping at me. The rain and constant damp clothes had made her intolerable. Poor me took the brunt, as there was no one else to crab at. |
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