When it's in the window I often hear someone outside say hanging on his arm 'that can't be real'. And he might say 'it could be, the people on the beach are looking up at it, look' I engage in a battle with the temptation to rush out with an indignant 'it is you know, I took it. I cycled for two hours over a mountain to get that shot'
Lost to myself just once. I rushed outside. The couple unimpressed by my impassioned defence stared at me mutely and moved on hurriedly. Lisburn yeah yeah yeah.
I cycled two hours over a mountain to get that shot. Read about Maho Bay in a blurb and considered it a suitable target for an afternoons occupation. At one end of the beach was an open air bar tiered with bleachers that stacked large Americans for the all-day every-day spectacle. Helicopters and sea-planes mere bagatelles to the main event, the occasional hotly anticipated passenger jet. Ham radios were taped to the benches and tapped into air traffic control. I was starving after the ride, but the menu boasted nothing that wouldn't contribute to a coronary event later in life.
'Air France comes in at 4.35' announces a man without invitation the way you might say The Antrim Coast is a Lovely Drive. I dont care because I've lost the key to the bicycle lock and the ship sails at 1730 hours. I studiously walk the length of the beach interrogating the sand. Just when I'm resigned to bequeathing my tethered steed to the good people of St Maarten my hand locates the key in my shorts pocket. The cycle back was against the clock and I was almost written up.
He looked after us all once. My parents were God Only Knows Where you go for a weekend break in the late seventies and the three of us were bundled into the brown Simca for an outing. Our Colin managed to drop the house keys out the rusty hole in the floor underpassenger seat of the Simca. I was implicated because he was sitting on my knee at the time. We waited in the car whispering and guilty whilst Kieran studiously interrogated the hard shoulder from Crossgar to Inch Abbey on foot. By the time we made it to Inch Abbey it had started to rain. I was only nine but even I could see my uncle Kieran had the weary air of a man who would much rather be somewhere else.