A day without travelling. In the morning we struck a blow for independence and also for showing off movement by going for a run at different times-our landlady was later to call us fitness fanatics, and then interpret my silence as offence and change it, but really I wanted to point out that we’d run then slept, not quite the busy day of active farmers.
No changing location, though, today. Later in the afternoon we explored Abbeyleix, too late to visit the gardens that are recommended, but in plenty of time to visit the pub. First, though, I had to pay my M50 toll from the day before, which I’d remembered at 2 in the morning and made note of. Couldn’t find Internet access anywhere and I was looking at the map for a bigger town when Linda arrived back from the shop to let me know I could just pay there. Doh, should have asked on one of our other visits to he shop, but job at least done.
Morrissey’s is a gem of the old-style Irish pub. We’d spotted one in Ballacolla on the way out, a pub that is also the newsagent and grocer, but Morrissey’s is the archetype in these parts, dark and fabulous, with beer on the lower shelf, cereal the upper, old ads all around the bar and locals popping in for a pint and the paper. Brilliant. I cooked, we ate, we sat. Mmm.