My back is giving me all this verbal and the hips keep joining in, very noisy and uncomfortable they are full of almost this and nearly that and interesting misses like my right hip giving way at the precise moment I was putting my right foot forward, no I didn’t fall over I’m accustomed to my right hips little foibles and anyway I was too busy trying to ignore my back which was yelling that no I could not stand up straight the very idea being painfully preposterous. Sigh. Its been that kind of a day.
I’ve been to Ballina, so pleased am I with the days experiences that I’m almost persuaded to think that were I to stay in this Godsforsaken boil on the backside of Poseidon I would stay in Ballina which does at least have its very own bus station and quite a lot of local authority offices by the look of it. I know this because people seemed to get confused with the exact location of the bus station, as soon as they recovered from the shock of discovering I don’t have a car they proceeded to send me in entirely the wrong direction. It actually took a very nice Polish woman to begin to point me the right way round. Who knows perhaps she liked my accent.
Not to worry I arrived at the bus station just in time to get my bus which would you Adam and Eve it leaves Ballina almost 30 minutes earlier than the time table says but this is not a problem because the bus to Ballina leaves my damp, dreary town almost thirty minutes earlier than the bus time table says.
The bus passes the top of my road and my aching feet, nagging hips and grumbling back kept insisting that a sane person would ask the driver to stop and let them off but not me with the feet, hips and back. Oh no I have to keep my mouth shut and stagger off at the bus stop in town. I didn’t even try to straighten my back and look I just started walking not slowly but not quickly either and not standing straight at all.
The good news is someone, a couple, stopped and offered me a lift. I think I smiled at them I’m sure her teeth were smiling, mine are never as forthcoming as that, well not unless I take them out they’re not. Of course I ignored the fact that they could have been Hindley and Brady or Fred and Rosemary needs must when your feet, hips and back are giving you gyp.
Have you noticed that Ireland has a significant lack of serial killers? Well it does if you don’t count nuns and priests. I suppose the lack is understandable most of em probably joined PIRA or the Loyalists and called murder, rape, incest and buggery politics, which in some parts of the UK it pretty much is or so it seems if you listen to Irish commentators on the subject.
Which reminds me of the couple they took me all the way to my door, can’t remember if they said much and it doesn't matter (you’d be a fool if you believe that!) He stopped when I told him to and for a second appeared shocked. I ignored that too I was trying to think who he reminded me of…
Oh! A little gem to share with you. Please don’t think I jump in any old car or that I don’t endeavor to explain I might be going in entirely the wrong direction for any passing Galahad. The very first thing I said to my would be chauffeurs was that I was going the wrong way for them and do you know what they said? They said it didn't matter. I call that – odd. Or not…
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