Back in Belfast and still on my hols, I had a chance encounter with my favourite Welshman yesterday lunchtime. We adjourned to sup ale and catch up. His Fermanagh days took him to woods and lakes of dreamlike appeal. My cycling adventures were described with graphic detail of the snail whose life I crushed and the consequent puncture of rear tyre whilst speeding downhill in traffic. Two pints for under a fiver made me re-examine my aversion to Wetherspoons on Bedford Street.
Today I discovered some unexpected money in our bank account. I rushed out to buy a paper, milk, bacon, smoked mackerel and wholemeal bread. later I find myself on a fool’s errand to collect a bag that we had left behind in the hotel in Falcarragh. The hotel has kindly put the bag on Patrick Gallagher’s bus and I was sent out to meet the bus for 12.30 pm. Unfortunately the bus doesn’t arrive at Jury’s Inn until 5pm, so I have had to amuse myself downtown as best I can.
The pint in the Hatfield was refreshing, the Pierre Cardin shirt from Vincent’s was a bargain at £4 and the goodies from the Asian supermarket were miles cheaper than Tesco’s. If I rush home now I might get roped into assembling some Ikea units, so I may well absent myself until the bus actually arrives.