EPT
![[image loading]](http://sirjolt.xadacka.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/Cheese.jpg)
This is the road beside my sister’s house, you can’t see it from this picture but just to the right is a burnt out cow-shed that’s also a cheese factory
The most fun we’ve had while we’ve been here has been going for brief walks through Kilorglin town; I’m not sure if it’s actually a town or a village, but either way, it’s quite small. I should, at this point, explain that my brother is only recently returned to us from a year spent travelling and living in communes in the southern hemisphere (for those unfamiliar with the hemispheres, the southern hemisphere is the evil one, where they keep all the sunshine).
My hemispherical gripes aside, the brother was returned to us with pretty much exactly the kind of attire you’d expect, so when we took ourselves walking through what has emerged to be a fairly conservative town, he wore,
1. Hemp jacket – brown
2. Thin cotton pants – apparently made from two other pairs of pants
3. Scarf – “PLO style”
4. Boots – White, rubber, cut to below the knee
The boots themselves deserve some description. To say that they’re big would be something of an understatement; they come to a little below the knee and, being white, manage somehow to give the impression of being bigger in every dimension. I’ve been informed that he rescued them from an abattoir, in which he didn’t work. They have steel toecaps, of which he enthused,
“I could kick anything with these and not feel anything!”
Walking through the town, responses were divided roughly by age. Those on breaks from local schools stared in frank confusion, some laughing, others too confused (I imagine that he has used his combination of mismatched fashion and a strange accent to “blow their mindholes” somehow).
![[image loading]](http://sirjolt.xadacka.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/Sister.jpg)
This is my sister, wearing her ‘onion cutting’ glasses, to shield her from oniony tears
As he walks by, rubberised boots squeaking as his feet flex as with each step, they whisper in hushed tones, broader accents than mine judging him and, I imagine, me by association.
Theirs is an accent devoid of sharp sounds, as though one night someone crept through the town, robbing them of their consonants. Instead, mouths now simply flex from one vowel to another, entire sentences fall from their faces without pause, incomprehensible… they laugh, we buy some apples.
It’s strange to think that there is as a genuine change of pace out here, but there is a noticeable… slowdown is the wrong word, but relaxation may be closer. I’m getting the same amount of work done as I do in Dublin, but I find that somehow, things feel as though they’re moving more slowly. It’s pleasant, tolerable.
![[image loading]](http://sirjolt.xadacka.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/Countryside.jpg)
This is what the surrounding countryside looks like, nice and slow
As though I were a farmer in some Virgilian poem espousing the virtue of countryside living, I find myself going to bed tired out, but happy with the events of the day, genuinely looking forward to sitting down to work the next morning, regardless of any negative events over the course of the day.
Somehow, my phone’s battery has moved from lasting a day or so to two to three days. I’m sure this is to do with something simple, like the fact that it’s not constantly changing network, the fact that there’s no 3G, I’m not using it for GPS and it’s basically in standby at all times, but I’m choosing to believe instead that it’s simply able to live longer in the countryside, the little trooper.
Incidentally, I’ve been taking all my photos from the phone over the past couple of days, so if they’re not top-notch I’ve that to blame for poor photography.
I’ve yet to try any authentic countryside food, though not for want of trying. I have been making a stern effort to eat more potato-based products though, in an attempt to feel a little more Irish… it’s going fairly well, but I’d imagine that genuine, wholesome countryside folk will frown upon my throwing potato waffles into a toaster and calling it a fine piece of authentic cuisine.
![[image loading]](http://sirjolt.xadacka.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/Ice-Cream.jpg)
This is the ice cream I’ve been eating, but eating it makes me sad for reasons I can’t quite describe
So far, my efforts to indulge local cuisine have begun and ended with this ice cream we picked up… it’s taste is unnervingly reminiscent of my childhood.
True story though, earlier on today we went for a walk because the internet went down (currently I’m running from a HTC Hero tethered to my laptop because the Eircom connection we were using has been dead for about nine hours*). While we were on our walk, which today took us as far away from town as I’ve been on foot so far, we walked in the humus that had accreted along the roadside finding, among other things, two potatoes that had apparently grown in the roadside dirt.
We also saw one matte-white condom of indeterminate origin. It looked a very utilitarian affair; perhaps because when it was left there they were very concerned about the whole “sin” business.
Incidentally, the sister is, for one reason or another, on very good terms with PopCap, who felt the need to send her a can of Plants vs. Zombies energy drink. We don’t know what’s in it, other than that it reads on one side,
“Feeling a little… um… undead? Need some extra oomph to battle flying peas and hurdle those pesky wall-nuts? Don’t settle for ‘nutritious’ gimmicks like vegetables or vitamins… drink this. Brain Ooze is a noxious concoction of caffeine, sugar, and spine-tingling carbonation that’s scientifically formulated to help you get the most out of every decomposing bone in your body. It’s packed with everything you need to feel alive again!”
![[image loading]](http://sirjolt.xadacka.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/Plants-vs-Zombies.jpg)
No joke.
Of course, I am under strictest instructions not to drink it, but I’d be lying if I said that if I wake up before anyone else today then I would be misinforming you entirely.
