...A novel - already written and waiting to happen.
Myths and stories abound, and it's no wonder... the landscape does lend it's self, as do the people.
The Giant's Causeway, where we visited on saturday, has a whole story surrounding it about two fighting giants, one from Scotland and one from Ireland (pronounced more like Arr-lan), that is just amazing. I'll try and put up some pictures. Then yesterday en rout to Castlewellyn and New Castle we drove past a pub called The Angler's Rest. (All you Wodehouse fans will understand.) And while driving through the countryside, not *really* lost, because one can never really get lost in Ireland, I have been informed, we drove past the Bronte homeland. Literature in all forms is simply everywhere.
It was a glorious sunset the whole afternoon (the sun starts setting at around 2pm, but isn't completely asleep till perhaps 4 or 4:30) and really quite magical. The imaginiation is frequently sparked, and in different ways every day, mostly due to the weather - if you think the weather in Ptown is manic, try England, and if you think that's bad, come to Ireland. I don't imagine that anyone could live here for too long with out having the inkling to start writing something.
2 comments:
*squeeeeel* i have decided that the perfect man would be a combination of bertie and jeeves. if they were one, i would be perfectly content to spend the rest of my life in his arms.
discuss. but not too heatedly.
I would have to say that a combination of Mr. Knightly and Mr. Darcy would beat that.
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