Seeing: the ridiculously fast-paced and dangerous sport that is hurling
Hearing: commentators discuss and narrate the game beyond my understanding
Feeling: light raindrops on my face, very comfy on a leather couch, the weight of many pantry items
Tasting: chips with curry and cheese, Digestive biscuits that I got on sale
Smelling: the inside of a pub
Still recovering from the glory of yesterday’s Kinsale trip, I spent the morning by trekking to the grocery store. The closest supermarket is on a path that goes past a lake (which seems to resemble a duck pond) in a park. They have a delivery service which is very handy for us automobile-less college students, but being Sunday our front desk-person wasn’t available to open the gates. I prepared to haul everything back myself with two shopping bags and a backpack, as I was determined to make this shopping run the one where I bought pantry items that came in heavy cans and jars. The mission was accomplished pretty well and nothing was too heavy. I considered stopping in the park on my way back to gaze over the water and write, but found that most benches had poop from the many waterfowl that inhabit the park. As well as most surfaces in the park. Not all of it from birds, either. Seriously, does anybody pick up after their dogs here?
Once groceries were put away, a group of my study abroad kids went over to a bar downtown to watch the GAA Hurling final. The international students’ association was kind enough to rent out a space for us to watch the tournament, and my group scoped out a couch for us to watch from in comfort.
Hurling is a very intense sport, and it was my first time watching it. I can best describe it as a combination of lacrosse and soccer and baseball; it involves using axe-shaped sticks to get a ball into a goal (3 pts) or between field posts (1 pt).
On the way back, we stopped by a nearby chip shop, where I meant to order “chips, curry, and peas” but somehow recieved “chips, curry, and cheese.” Not a horrible mistake– it was quite a lot like poutine!