We awoke the next day to a mix of sun and gray, breakfasted heartily and ventured off into the great outdoors to check out the little town in which we had landed late the night before. Our most hospitable hosts next door directed us to a market in a community center a few doors down, so we scampered off in that direction while glancing nervously at the clouds congregating darkly overhead. It was a small market, but the quality was tip top and the smells were divine. A farmer with assorted vegetables and fresh strawberries (though not nearly as luscious-looking as fresh German strawberries, now at the height of their season); a couple different bakers with baskets of scones, sweet breads and cakes, savory loaves; a young couple selling homemade pestos, hummus’, lentil dishes; a woman making crêpes keeping one eye on two adorable children in charge of the nearby fudge stand; artists selling jewellery, photography; and even a chocolatrice from Dingle with a naughty array of brownies, truffles, and beautiful chocolate bars in creative flavors such as candied ginger mango or dreamy dark chocolate with pistachios and rose petals. We got into conversation with a woodworker who made the most beautiful Philadelphia chairs, all of them curvy and soft to the touch. He told us about their history and about his special technique, how he would love to go to Pennsylvania to see the woodworking shops and museums there, but was afraid of getting around in the big city, driving on the wrong side of the road, etc. Nice guy. He invited us to check out his workshop if it got too rainy, but our adventures ended up taking us elsewhere.
It was pouring rain when we exited, so we waited it out in the supermarket next door. Personally, I was excited to look at the baking supplies to test out my British baking lingo. Every few months we go through a baking phase at work, for which I translate all sorts of recipes from German into English to go with the products sold (cookie cutters, muffin tins, waffle makers…). As we’re supposed to use British English, I’ve been using some questionable-sounding terms for basic ingredients found in multiple sources online, such as “plain flour” for “all-purpose flour”, “wholemeal” for “whole wheat”, “cornflour” for “cornstarch”, etc. Turns out we’ve been doing everything right. They really do use those questionable terms in those distant island places.
I didn't want to whip out the camera in the market due to the annoying tourist factor, so I took a picture of this cute dog waiting across the street instead.
After waiting for the rain to pass (or at least pause), we jumped at the first sight of blue sky and headed down a long side road leading out of town, heading seaward. The partially paved 1-laner cut through fields alive with wild yellow irises and the occasional disinterested cow (one of which we decided was the cow on the Kerry Butter packaging... still on the lookout for the purple Milka cow on the loose in the Deutschland). Mountains to the left and scent of sea to the right, we walked on and on looking for any path to take us to the ocean. A woman we passed along the way told us not to cut over to the dunes until we crossed a stone bridge, as there was a channel of sorts that was impassable at high tide (--> foreshadowing).
The aforementioned stone bridge came just in time for the road to be washed out, so we crossed it, found a path through the dunes and HELLO, SOFT AND SANDY BEACH! Ditched the ole shoesies asap and went a-frolicking, but was soon distracted by all the shiny shiny diva shells shining up at me from all over the place. Even some of the snail shells I found were princess pink 'n' purple striped with curvy mother of pearl décor. The clouds stewing over the mountains became more and more ominous as time passed, and eventually looked convincing enough to make us head back home as quickly as possible, the sky then commencing its dribbling.
Back at the casa with scones in our bellies, a look out the window made it seem like it wasn't actually going to rain after all, so another expedition headed out to wander down a yet unwandered street. I'd found a good number of colorful doors and a path up through the fields when, hah hah, it started pouring again, but this time in the bright sunshine. I squinted around for some rainbow happenings, but all that was found before turning back was another collection of sheep and cows, though these ones were held under tighter security than others we'd sighted.
The evening calmly came and went with a homecooked family meal, cake and schmnoozing on the couch, tuckered and contented.
What I would give for a real Irish scone right about now... *drool*
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