Friday, 29 of March of 2024

My Cill Rialaig Diary.

Day 2, Tuesday 3rd march 2009.

Rising late at 8.30, a light rain is rattling on the roof, and the radio is promising big wind and rain coming off the Atlantic. I make coffee but skip breakfast and start unloading the van hoping to finish before the rain gets any more established. This was not to be, but at least I had packed all my wet gear. This includes my camouflage-rain-poncho; I probably look like a Vietnam veteran in wellies. By one O’clock I have experienced all four seasons: rain, sun, hailstones and a gale that just keeps blowing.

I light the stove and begin moving the furniture about to make my temporary home and studio my own.

During a break in the clouds I walk up through the village to find out who the neighbours are. On first impression they are mostly sheep, it’s amazing how they find any grass to chomp on at all, Bolus Head is still in winter and it seems they have nibbled away everything from between the rocks and gorse.

I start knocking on doors. There are seven cottages and four are occupied; myself, John from Glasgow, Angela from Cork, and Stefan from Austria. After some brief introductions I scurry back to my cave before the hailstones become too much for my head.

I make a couple of small oil-sketches based on some historical seascapes. It’s the first painting I’ve done since November. Bed.


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