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Prison uniform?

September 30, 2012

Bog or blog? That was the not  Freudian slip made by Jude “where is the Baileys” O Sullivan when confronted yesterday morning with her party time picture in yesterdays column, a picture she claims was taken without her knowledge despite posing for it. Today’s picture is of the two almost identical male twins with whom we are communing at the Galway Bay Oyster Festival.

You will notice that they are wearing exactly the same shirts, a faux pas of the highest order. I shudder to think would be the reaction by my style guru, Mr Humphreys, if he were free.

Matching shirts and Guiness

Spot the difference?

Talk at breakfast was all about the night before. Dilip, on the right, the perfectly formed rotund Indian South African is a renowned oyster shucker and when discussing the oyster opening competition the night before, asked me why I did not enter him. For one moment I thought I was back amongst those public schoolboy ex pats in Valbonne. Momentarily I panicked and clenched and was still on edge until a pint of Guinness after the sun had passed the yard-arm afforded me some relaxation.

So we went to the World Oyster Opening Championship which was won, entirely coincidentally by an Irishman. My green trousers and luxuriant handle bar moustache gained much attention from a number of Irish colleens and a lot of international rugby types that insisted on being photographed with me. I am certain they were not taking the mickey.

We we’re treated to a great afternoon of Irish culture featuring Irish dancing, Guinness, a crooner, Guinness, Oysters, fabulous seafood, music and more Guinness. It was a very fine afternoon and stretched into the evening. After we left It all got very out of hand ending up with Dilip falling into an “adult” shop on the way back to the hotel and using the kitty to buy a very doubtful adult video which was promptly confiscated and trashed by his wife as soon as Johnny and I revealed its existence by mistake.

Once we had rescued him, there was an embarrassing moment on the way for a pit stop point at the Kings Head when he joined in with a street busker. I have the video of his fake saxophone playing, complete with all the moves and as I write I am trying to figure out how to get it on to youtube. Once I get home on Monday I will crack it.

Today is our last full day in Ireland and as a write it is blowing a hooley and raining sideways, so what better way to spend a Sunday but go to a restaurant, preferably by the sea. We may even go to the one owned by the family of the new World champion Oyster opener which is apparently not far away.

Back to reality later tomorrow, and some serious work on the next book. I had resolved once I got back to allow no alcohol to pass my lips until Saturday when we shall be in London to see John Otway perform ahead of the premiere of Otway The Movie next Sunday at the Odeon, Leicester Square. However, Mr Clipboard tells me he has a “window of opportunity” for lunch between 1.18 and 2.53 on this coming Thursday so I will have to squirt some beer and wine into the back of my throat then to ensure it does not touch my lips.

Finally, the more astute amongst you will have noted that I have not yet mentioned the benefits that can be bestowed by opening an account with Currencies Direct for any foreign exchange transactions. That is because it is Sunday, a day of rest and I am in a catholic enclave where they take this kind of stuff very seriously.

Chris France


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