Blog written 26th June, 9.50am
Woke up this morning in the cottage in Roundstone feeling very hot. The central heating system seems over zealous! I have become acclimatised to island life and sleeping in a draughty shed. Strangely although my shower last night was unbelievably fantastic, refreshing and cleansing, I am now yearning for the very REALNESS of the island and the way I felt so vital and alive there in spite of the basic facilities and lack of water. Thoughts of lying awake, hunkered down in my sleeping bag, wind and rain circulating the shed outside have become memories and as such a great loss, the result of which is an overwhelming, engulfing sadness.
On waking I read several pages of the book by Tim Robinson, Connemara, Listen to the Wind. It contains many references and uses the Irish language, which has its roots in Celtic and/or North African language. Of couse it was the english around 1200 that chose to impose the anglicised versions of Gaelic onto this country – evidence of empire building? At that time it was punishable to use the Irish version of place names.Yet here today in Connemara the accents are broad and the native tongue frequently heard. Young people now learn Irish at school and teachers are expected to be fluent enough to teach using the traditional tongue.
