Tuesday, October 4, 2011
There be nothing there - only sea . . .
"Is this the road for Tawin?" I asked the fellow as I passed by him. My "Tay-win" seemed at first not to register with him but he was obviously a smart enough fellow to be able to make allowance for my extraordinary pronunciation. "Tawn" he said, "is it Tawn you be looking for? I told him that I probably was and he confirmed that if I carried on in the direction in which I had been travelling I would eventually reach "Tawn". "But there be nothing there; only sea", he told me. "Sea will be fine", I assured him. And so it was. West Tawin - a rather fine single arch stone bridge connects it to mainland East Tawin - is the the island tip of a low peninsular covered with fields divided by stone walls which stretches out into Galway Bay towards the Atlantic. For a while I paddled around there on the amazingly soft lush turf contentedly lost in the huge land, sea and skyscapes all around and above me. The hitherto persistent cloud was breaking up and clearing from the north. I could see that Galway town, across the bay from me, was in bright sunshine; things were boding well for a fine evening.