The Sage of Ballycotton

Has it really been a week since I last posted? I mean dayyyyum son. The time does fly. 

This past week has been full of adventures, from getting lost in the city for the first time to experiencing my first club to taking a trip out to the coast to classes, classes, classes. SO many classes. Too many? Since international students don’t register until January 15th, we have the privilege of “shopping ‘round” for classes for the first week and a half, and I have been doing my darndest to take all of them. 


But that’s not what this blog post is about! I feel compelled to share with the one person who reads my blog (Hi!) an anecdote that occurred in the tiny fishing village of Ballycotton. 

One of my dear roommates, Allison, randomly chose Ballycotton out of the many small, uncharted coastal villages within a bus ride of Cork city. So, early on Saturday morning, it was to Ballycotton we did go, despite protests by various Irish people that there was “nothin’ there.” 

We stepped off the bus to galeforce winds and bracing sea air. I was in raptures. We took a hike down to the low-tide line and then up across some gorgeously treacherous cliffs that looked much like something straight out of Middle Earth. 

Cue epic theme

At any rate, after a good four hours of exploring we were chilled to the bone. We ate at a swank little restaurant in town and, after wearing out our welcome there, took a second hike before heading a few doors down to the Schooner bar for some hot whiskey (new favorite beverage). It was there that we encountered the Sage of Ballycotton. 

Whhhiskey

We had been warming our hands on our boiling hot whiskies for a few minutes and chatting with the bartender about a movie with Marlon Brando that was partially filmed in Ballycotton, before the funding for it went under, when an old man staggered into the pub. He was visibly inebriated and sported a mustache of crusted Guinness foam.

The man marched up to our table and asked, in a roar,

“Do ye believe in God?”

We replied, giving the Sage an entrance to begin his lecture.

“Now I’m no professor,” (he began), “but I know a thing or two and I know this: when you’re pissed off, when you’re hating the world, you take a walk down the road,
And you listen to the birds sing
And if you see a cat,
Or a dog,
You pick ‘em up and you love ‘em,
Because that’s nature,
And nature is good.
You respect nature.”


And we nodded at this very sensible wisdom.

“Now I’m no professor,” (continued the Sage), “but I know a thing or two and I know this:”

And here, hyphenated for your reading convenience, is a summary of the three-hour lecture deliver to us by Mícheál Russell, the Sage of Ballycotton:



“
The men up in the government, they’re all wankers - all they care for is power and money - You mustn’t care for just power and money, and if you do, you won’t be happy - the men in the government don’t know how to be happy - they just need to walk down along the road, and listen to the birds sing - and if they see a dog or a cat, they need to pick that animal up and love it, because that’s nature - and you must respect nature, and nature is good - I left school at fourteen years old - my father died when he was thirty-eight - and I love my mother.

The men up in government, they’ll try to tell you how to live your life - professors at school, they will too - now it’s good that all you girls are going to school, and I like to see people gettin’ on in the world - but don’t you let those professors tell you how to live your life - they don’t know nothin’ - they don’t know how to be happy - now I’m no professor, but I know how to be happy - I just walk down the road, and listen to the birds sing - because that’s nature, and you’ve got to respect nature.

These times, they’re different from when I was growing up - I left school at fourteen - and I’m no professor, but I like to see people getting’ on in the world - and sometimes you might get pissed off - you might get tired of people telling you how to live your life - and if that happens, you just walk down along the road - and listen to the birds sing - and if you a cat or a dog, you pick it up and you love it - because that’s nature - and you need to love nature - and then you will be happy.
”


And then he bought us drinks, in a very kind gesture, because he like to see people gettin’ on in the world.

And then he wandered away from the Schooner bar, into the freezing wind and fog that had rolled in off the sea.



The bartender hurried over and apologized profusely. “He’s not from around here,” he said sheepishly. “He only wanders into town every two months or so, gets drunk, and then leaves.”

And so, we had the dubious honor of being in Ballycotton on the same day as Mícheál Russell and his wisdom.
Much refreshed, we hiked out to see the light in the lighthouse (one of the few still functioning, as most have been shut down in favor of radar systems) and bid our farewells to Ballycotton.

Now my lymph nodes feel like pillows and I will probably contract a whooping cough in the next few days, but the trip was absolutely worth it.

Until next time ~

KB