The time here in Galway
is flying...when not in rehearsal or postering or printing programs,
we're doing radio interviews, going to openings, volunteering, and seeing other
artists' work at the Fringe and the Galway Arts Festival. But to
begin at the beginning...
After all meeting up at JFK, we
flew out on Thursday, July 11 on American Airlines (AA), with a connection in
Heathrow. The flight was lovely; we chased the sunrise across the ocean,
arriving at Heathrow Friday morning. The Heathrow experience was - umm,
challenging. With barely enough time to make our flight to Dublin, we sprinted
through Heathrow, looking for the elusive Gate 77. (George is still
recovering - the wheelchair was temporary!) We just made it aboard our British Airways flight to Dublin. In Dublin,
we found that George’s suitcases was "lost" – and might take days to
get back to us…the only thing that made it bearable was how wickedly funny (and
on top of things) the Irish staff was about it all.
Then – we stepped outside! It was a whole new Ireland to me. Blinding sunlight – incredibly hot – brilliant
blue sky. “This could be LA!”, said
Parrish, as he fished out his prop sunglasses.
A three hour bus ride on a new-built, generic highway across the country
brought us to our beloved Galway – and,
incredibly, the same Mediterranean weather.
Ireland
was in the midst of what would be a 3 week long “heat wave”, with weather not
seen since 1995 (officially!). The whole
country was at the beach…
Except our landlord, Tom Lyon, who
after a few frantic payphone calls, found us at the (other) bus terminal,
loaded us up in his SUV, took us ‘round
to the bank to get things sorted, and then gave us the tour of our new home for
the next 2 weeks. After traveling for
almost 24 hours, it was like reaching nirvana!
Wired now – sleep? why? – Parrish,
Karen and myself headed over to the 6pm Fringe Launch at the Dominican Hall,
behind the Claddagh
Church. We crossed the River Corrib near the Spanish
Arch in the heart of Galway, passed the famous
Claddagh swans, and found our way to the Hall.
The City had a carnival feel to it – not only was it Festival time, but
the weather was just gorgeous, and it wouldn’t get dark until almost 11pm.
The Hall was hung with a visual
arts exhibition celebrating Galway artists,
and both tea and wine were being served, in Victorian tea cups and cut Irish
crystal goblets respectively, tho’ when the wine goblets ran out, the porcelain
tea cups did just fine. A duo played
great Celt-folk music while artists and Fringe staff minglesd. We picked up our first copy of the big,
beautiful festival programme – yep, there we were! Felt a bit unreal – or was it just lack of
sleep?

As we walked out into the beautiful
Irish summer dusk and crossed the bridge back into the singing, dancing,
medieval heart of the city, past a lone tin whistle player playing something
aching and ghostly, we couldn’t agree with him more.
(Claddagh history: churchhttp://www.claddaghns.ie/Old%20Claddagh.html)