The last time I was in Newgrange was probably on a school tour many years ago. Living relatively close to it I decided to revisit. Given that it has been there for over 5,000 years I wasn’t expecting much of a change. Continue reading
Back in May last year I took it upon myself to improve my cooking skills. I wouldn’t exactly starve in the kitchen but I wouldn’t blow your mind either. I had some holidays to use up from work so I decided to take a week off and embark on Cooks Academy Essential Cookery Course.
The course runs for five days from 10.00 a.m. to 4.00 p.m. each day and is described as follows:
‘Spend a wonderful week cooking and learning here at Cooks Academy. Because we stream participants of different abilities, this course will suit you either as a total beginner or as a cook with experience. You will learn the basics of classical cooking along with a concise discovery of cooking methods and techniques giving you the background to enable your skills to mushroom in the future. A great course if you’re taking a break from your hectic work for a week’ (from Cooks Academy website)
The first day we got to meet the team from Cooks Academy. All very professional and personable. There were about 15 of us taking part for the week so over a batch of freshly baked scones and mugs of tea we started chatting and began to get to know each other.
Demo Kitchen Area
We were given a book of recipies and a plan for the week broken down by day of what dishes we would cook. It averaged about 8 differant meals a day including everything from soups to mains to desserts. The first morning also included some of the basics like knife skills, a tour of the kitchen and actually showing us various kitchen untensils and how to correctly use them. It was surprisingly helpful that bit.
After the introduction we were asked to get ourselves into pairs as we would be working together for many of the recipies. It was all a bit like being picked for teams in PE. A little bit of shuffling about. A bit of looking at the ground and then a few ‘will you work with me’ in hushed tones. Everyone managed to find a friend and I was paired up with an excitable young lad who was rearing to go.
The format was the same for each day. One of the chefs would demonstrate the dish right in front of us and talk us through the process while giving us tips on how to improve our cooking and answering our never ending stream of questions which I’m sure they had heard a million times. Once that was done we were let loose in the kitchen to recreate it ourselves.
Kitchen Area
For all of the dishes the staff had already set out all the ingredients at our work stations. This was really just so we could fit all the dishes in and didn’t have to waste time measuring out ingredients. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume they figured we would be able to do that ourselves at home. Maybe they gave us too much credit!
Throughout the week we made a great mix of dishes and usually after we made a dish we went back to the seating area and sat down and ate. It was cook eat, cook eat, cook eat, roll home. Not a bad way to spend a day. Some of the dishes we made are coming up below. Yes they were all made from scratch and all made by me. I was kinda impressed with myself.
Freshly Baked Brown Bread
Rib Eye Steak with Peppercorn Sauce and Fondant Potato
Spicey Chicken, Cucumber and Cashew Salad
Lamb with Rosemary Jus
Chocolate Souffle
Eclairs
On the final day of the course we spent the afternoon preparing just one dish which was a very tasty apple tart. After that the staff had organised an end of course graduation for us which was a really great touch. Everyone was called up by name to receive their certificate and shake hands with the chef, while enjoying canapes accompanied by prosecco. It was a really nice way to finish off the week.
Apple Tart
It’s not a great picture, bit fuzzy but was great to take a picture with the entire class, and of course our apple tarts.
The Class
Certificate
The course is currently priced at €450 which equates to €90 a day. Given that every single ingredient is supplied for you, all of which are of excellent quality I personally think it’s great value.
Contact Details: 19 South William Street Dublin 2 Ph: 01 6111 666Web: http://www.cooksacademy.com/
I’ve always had a passing interest in baking. Even when I was a child I remember being in the kitchen with my mother making fairy (sign of things to come) cakes, or my own culiniary delight which was Rice Krispie buns. At one point I even got a place to study Culinary Arts in DIT. Alas it was not to be and like many others I ended up getting a job and getting used to having money. From time to time I still try my hand at a bit of baking with moderate degrees of success. It’s finding the time to practice that seems to let me down.
Another buddy of mine (lets call him Baking Boy) also likes to dabble with flour and eggs from time to time. Being the good chap he is, he organised for us to head to Dublin Cookery School in Blackrock for their Petite Patisserie class. Basically its an excuse to eat fattie food and a competition to see who makes the best ones. Nothing like a bit of (un)friendly rivalry to keep things interesting.
Ready for Battle
So we arrived for class at 7 p.m. and joined the group which was mostly made up of ladies and we were promptly served a glass of wine and some food.
Wine
Pate
The set up for the class was pretty standard. We got to sit back and relax and drink wine while Linda done all the hard work right in front of us. Linda is like a female Willy Wonka but without that creepy element he has. She is great fun. She knows her stuff, is passionate about her chocolate masterpieces and that enthusiasm makes the class a great place to be. We had about five differant recipes to get through in about two hours. The first couple were demonstrated with ease by Linda while we supped our wine.
Kitchen Demo Area
She made mini versions of everything using some very handy silicon moulds. I’ll definately be using them when I get around to recreating some of these mouth watering treats. Linda actually made a birthday cake for Robert De Niro (which kinda makes her a bit of a hero) when she worked in Vancouver and shared the recipie in miniature version with us. It was a chocolate hazelnut cake and if it’s good enough for Mr. De Niro it’s good enough for me.
Robert De Niro’s Chocolate Hazelnut Cake
She also made mini frozen tiramisu and chocolate mousse encased in glazed chocolate boxes. Droooooooooooool
Selection of Desserts
Glazed Chocolate Box in the Middle
Perfect Presentation
After beguiling us with her skills Linda let us loose in the kitchen area to have a go at something a little less intricate.
Busy Class
We made Chocolate Madeleines first. Lets just say that they didn’t quite work out. Some key ingredients might have been forgotten then added in the wrong order and bascially I blame the wine because the very simple recipie suddenly turned into something written in latin and the Chocolate Madeleines didn’t quite make it but we still had fun trying. Few pictures below of the steps involved.
Take Ingredients
Mix Them Together
Pour into Trays
Unfortunately there is no finished product picture because they were far too tragic to be photographed. The Lime and Coconut Friands however were a roaring success.
Ingredients for Friands
Mixed Together
Ready for Baking
Ta Dah – Masterpieces – Well Edible & Tasty
Cooking with Linda is great fun I have to say and I laughed as much as I learned so thats what I call a recipie for success. Dublin Cookery School has a whole host of classes coming up so take a look here.
Dublin Cookery School
2 Brookfield Terrace
Blackrock
Co. Dublin
Phone: 353 (0)1 2100 555
Email: info@dublincookeryschool.ie
Ruby Laine, one of the girls I work with was leaving us. She is a wonderfully vintage girl dropped into a modern world and loves anything with a touch of old style charm. She doesn’t like too much of a fuss so rather than the usual leaving drinks I organised an Afternoon Tea farewell for her.
The venue of choice was the Atrium Lounge in The Westin Hotel. They have two differant afternoon teas on offer. The first the standard afternoon tea that everyone knows and loves with pots of tea and fresh scones and mini cakes. Ruby went for that one. She is a coeliac and I’m delighted to say that they were happy to cater for her needs without compromising on taste. The second was entitled A Most Peculiar Afternoon Tea which I went for. A racy little number this one. (Laura from The Dublin Diary gave me that word)
A Most Peculiar Afternoon Tea
It was a Hendricks Gin infused twist on a classic Afternoon Tea and came complete with a tea pot full of Victorian Mojito.
Teapot of Victorian Mojito
Atrium Roof
I’ve never really had afternoon tea as such but always imagined you would be starving after it as everything is miniature. I was happy to be proved wrong however. Despite the size the three tiers of mini treats were suprisingly filling and it was a struggle to finish. A struggle yes, but I did finish and then started sampling some of Rubys too.
Feast your eyes on these!
Black olive, tomato tapenade and goats cheese dipper
Almond and redcurrant frangipane tart
Banana Bread
Spiced roast beef, spinach, red onion and horseradish involtine
Confit of pork cheek, stilton and honey aioli
Confit of pork cheek, stilton and honey aioli
Popcorn panna cotta, toffee popcorn crumble
Cream & Jam For Scones
Oak smoked Irish salmon, caviar, cream cheese blini
Naturally enough they also had an extensive range of teas and coffees available to suit all tastes. Ruby went for the Green Tea to accompany her coeliac friendly selection.
Green Tea
Some of the Coeliac Friendly treats
I of course was being all sorts of classy with my teapot full of booze!!
So Refined
All in all an enjoyable afternoon was had. Both versions of afternoon tea are available for €26 per person which I did find good value. It’s served Monday to Friday and Sunday from 2.00 p.m. to 6.00 p.m. and on Saturdays between 1.00 p.m. and 6.00 p.m.
Link to the menu here
This post might be kinda long so grab a beer or glass of wine and settle in.
Having suffered the pure shame of the pre Pre Venice Health Check I made sure I limited myself to one beer the day before the actual marathon. A more sensible man would probably have no beer at all but being sensible is not a claim I’ve ever made.
More Beer Please
In keeping with martahon tradition I carb loaded the night. That’s sports talk for stuffing your face with pasta, which I did. Made sure I went home early and organised my stuff for the next morning. I’m sure everyone has their own way of doing things, but I reckon I suffer from a touch of OCD so I checked I had everything I needed, then immediately checked again and then once more before I went to bed.
As it turned out the start line for the race was out in Stra which is a bit of a trek to be honest. On the morning of the race I had to get up spectacularly early. My alarm went off at about 5.30 and then I spent a half hour doing that ten more minutes and I’ll get up thing in my head. Finally at 6 I dragged my ass out of bed to shower and get ready. It was dark and it was cold and I was tired, but also excited, and a little nervous, like I went to the toilet twice with nerves (thats the polite way of saying it).
It was far to early for the non runners to go to the start line with me so I told them to stay put. My buddy however took a stroll down to the water shuttle stop with me. Really I think it was to take embarassing photos like the one below of me. I look like a child on his first day of school. I swear I’m much more attractive in real life. Plus I look really short. I’m actually just under six foot. Well about a half a foot under six foot.
Marathon Morning
So the journey consisted of a walk from the apartment to the water shuttle stop. Then a sail down the canal to Piazzale Roma which was actually quite nice. Lots of fellow runners got on along the way and we all done that silent nod that says ‘your part of the group’ but it was far too early to be chatting. After the boat there was a 15 minute walk to get a bus. There was also a serious lack of sign posts telling us which way to go. I done the smart thing and followed a group that had that look about them that said ‘I know where I’m going’. They didn’t and we all got lost and turned back and went for Plan B which was to follow a bigger crowd because loads of people can’t be wrong. Turned out they weren’t and we found the bus.
Start Line
So the bus took about 30 minutes to drive out to the starting point. As I gazed out the window I thought to myself a number of time, FUCK this is a long way and I have to run home. Finally reaching the starting line I dumped my bag at the collection point, queued for the portaloos for a final pre marathon nerves check and then wandered over to the corrals. The start line was actually in a beautiful spot called Villa Pisani which had huge walls around it. So I didn’t stand out I made sure I had a wee against the wall like everyone else and pretended to stretch my legs.
After about 15 mins we were moved into our corrals. I was number 8. The hardcore runners were up the front. By this point I was kinda cold and I was hungry too and I’d been up about 5 hours, oh and the small matter of now running 26 miles home again.
It wasn’t long before my corral was passing the start line. Quick check of my watch to see the exact time I passed. That way I could be sure to mentally torture myself along the way trying to hit my target of between 4 and 5 hours. I actually felt great as soon as I started running. I was hydrated and had plenty of gel bars strapped to me to keep me nourished. I’d made a playlist which started off nice and steady and then increased in tempo bit by bit. I made a point of drinking at each water station. There were loads of people out supporting all along the route which really helps when you are running. I had my breathing in check and I managed to hit the half marathon point in a time of 2hrs 14 minutes without stopping once. I was delighted with myself and fairly much on target with my timings.
Great Support Along The Route
Having already run 20 miles during my Eco 2 Run event I knew what to expect. So I kept my steady pace, albeit a little slower and continued on. The route took us through lots of little towns and villages and all the kids along the route had their hands out for high fives. The support was just tremendous.
The route was very well equipped in terms of water stations, sponging stations and after 10 miles every station had fruit and biscuit pieces to keep everyone fuelled. I hit the 20 mile mark after about 3 hrs 45 which was quite respectable. That was the furthest I had ever run before. I’d say within the space of another mile, my hips and I knew we weren’t prepared for the last 6 miles. In fairness my hips knew before I did and they weren’t shy about telling me. I was also getting a bit of a pain in my left foot (not the movie, but link to it here its quite good).
All the books on preparing for a marathon tell you that you should only train to a maximum of 20 miles. So thats what I done. I’m sure it works great for lots of people because these books have sold thousands of copies. However, I’m going to say it out loud, I DON’T AGREE, but that is only from experience. It’s like offering someone a lift home and then letting them out six miles before their house. Why would you do that?
So the last six miles of the marathon. Well they thought me a lot about myself. I wanted to give up. I was feeling very unmotivated. At the same time I refused to give in. I had gone that far, there was no way I was after travelling all the way to Venice and quitting in the last six miles. Sure the shame alone would kill me.
My hips were sore and my foot was sore. Funnily enough I wasn’t dramatically tired. That type of tired where ya kinda feel a bit dopey. I wasn’t dehyrdated. In fact I stopped at a little hotel along the way to use their toilet and my wee was perfecty clear which is always a good sign. I actually had a sit down wee, which for anyone who doesn’t know, it’s having a number 1 in the number 2 position when your kinda tired and want to take a moment out (yes it’s strange for men to do it but more of us do it than you think).
But god me hips were at me. Same thing happened to me after my 20 miles run a month before the marathon. But at that point they were sore before I hit 20 miles, this time they were sore after I hit 20 miles. So I had definately made progress, just not enough. The last six miles were pure and utter torture and there is no point pretending they weren’t. It took sheer grit, lots of pain, and me saying this about 20 times ‘baby Jesus if you let me finish this I’ll be the best boy ever’. I actually don’t think he was listening or he was going, ‘ah here’s yar man again with his poor me help me out routine’. On I went and just to recap:
Half Marathon point (13 miles) at 2.14 hrs
20 Mile point at 3.45 hrs
The last six miles actually took me 1 hr 28 minutes to complete. They killed me. There was a huge stretch of it which was a road right though the lagoon which was perfectly straight and seemingly never ending. I also had to stop for a wee on that stretch without the modesty of even a hedge or ditch to stand in front of. All I could find was a knee high bollard seperating the road from the railway line. The only good thing about doing a wee along a straight line like that is it encourages you to run away from the people behind you when you are finished. So thats what I did. I dug deep and pushed forward.
Nearly There
Hitting the island of Venice was an amazing feeling. The organisers had bulilt a pontoon bridge across the canal for us to run over which I really only appreciated afterwards. We ran through Saint Marks square. I made sure I kept my chin up and forced a smile for that bit. I even heard a couple of people call my name to encourage me (names on bibs). There were about 14 little ramps I had to go over to reach the finish line and each one was like a mini Everest to me. The closer I got the more I wanted to push harder. It’s funny how that happens. My hips were sore and my foot was sore but the rest of me was pushing forward.
Pontoon Bridge
Saint Marks Square
Coming over the final ramp I seen the finish line and the big judgemental clock with its glaring green numbers declaring for all to see I was well behind the time I had hoped for. Nevertheless a wave of relief rolled over me. I was going to finish. I was actually going to finish the marathon. I knew my buddys were waiting at the finish line, which happened to be literally around the corner from our apartment. The finish line itself is a blur. I was slightly delerious I think (see pic below). In a matter of minutes I had passed it, been given a foil blanket, had a medal around my neck and was carrying a bag of fruit. Very efficient the Italians.
Approaching Finish Line
The Prize
I met my buddys and within minutes we were seated outside a bar, funnily enough beside a canal. I figured since my apartment was three floors up with no lift, the sensible thing to do was to have a few beers because I may never walk again. The beer was a welcome change to the bucket loads of water I had been drinking and it was well deserved. Despite being quite well hydrated my skin was covered in salt. You could literally rub chips on my arms and eat them. I may have given my arm a bit of a lick to confirm. Yes I was salty.
Post Marathon Selfie
It actually took a while for it to sink in that I had actually ran, walked, stumbled and nearly crawled my way through a marathon. Not only that, in the space of about 7 months, I had managed to get off the couch, run a 5k, run a 10k, run a Half-Marathon, run a 20 miler disgrace myself at a Health Check and I completed a full marathon. While my final time of 5 hrs 13 minutes was definately longer than I wanted, oveall it wasn’t too shabby and I was already thinking I wanted more.
Official Time
Thats the winner, clearly it wasn’t me who won incase you thought it was!
Official Winner
But I came first place the day before!
First The Day Before
I had been hearing great things about The Green Hen for ages. A friend had raved about it, but he is a vegetarian so I’m always a little suspicious of non meat eaters. Can you really trust someone who is part of the Quron movement (I joke). It was however on my list of places to try. As luck would have it a buddy had organised lunch there for me as an early birthday treat.
I’ll do my very best to be balanced in my review but quite frankly I was under its spell the second I walked up to it. It has that wonderful charm of a Parisian Cafe and makes you feel like you are stepping back in time. Just inside the door is a small bar area, perfect for a glass of wine or cup of coffee and some window watching.
Bar Area Inside The Door
The bar is followed by a narrow section which opens wider towards the back. Upstairs there is another dining space which is filled with light and in constrast to downstairs which is darker. Personally I prefer the look and feel of downstairs.
Stairs to well Upstairs
Every inch of the walls are adorned with framed movie posters from an era long gone by.
Movie Posters
Movie Poster
It was lunch time on a busy Saturday when we visited so we decided to try out the set lunch menu, which let me tell you is amazing value at 1 course for €14, 2 courses for €17 or 3 courses for €19.
Set Lunch Menu
While salivating over the menu we got a couple of glasses of prosecco to kick start. Light refreshing and crips with an underlying hint of fruits. There is just never enough in one glass though! Although if I do have more than one I start that really awkward flirting with the wait staff where they roll their eyes and say to themselves ‘great another tipsy fool thinking he is hilarious’. I do genuinely feel sorry for staff sometimes, having been on the receiving end of it myself!
Prosecco
For starters I went for the Braised Pork Cheek with a Pigs Head Croquette, Chicory, Pear and Calvadas Jus. The Pigs Head bit kinda threw me a little and I was a bit aprehensive about what would appear on the plate. It was bloody gorgeous. The Pork Cheek was tender and fell apart and the Croquette was crisp on the outside with soft and creamy potato and bacon on the inside. I literally licked the Jus off the plate, classy guy that I am.
Pork Cheek
My buddy had the Hot and Cold Goats Cheese and Beetroot Salad. A plentiful helping it was too. I’m not a big fan of goats cheese but I’m told it was quite tasty and he ate it all despite the fact he is usally a ‘salad dodger’.
Hot Cold Goats Cheese Beetroot Salad
For mains the following culinary successes were served up. Mine was the catch of the day which was pan fried Seabass on a bed of creamed potato with fried samphire. It also came with a delightfully tasty garlic sauce which was really mild and not overpowering with such a delicate fish. When I first looked at the plate I thought to myself, well this won’t fill me. Coming from a farming background I like spuds with me spuds so was thinking a little bit of creamed mash ain’t going to cut it. Happy to be proved wrong, it was suprisingly filling. The fish was perfectly cooked and only lightly seasoned. It was my first time trying fried samphire and I can safely say I’d eat a whole plate of it. Gorgeous!
Seabass
The other dish was traditional fish and chips which is a fairly safe option. It was beer battered to perfection and served with chips, pea puree, rocket and a basil aioli on the side. Cooked and presented correctly a dish as simple as fish and chips can hit all the right spots and this one did. Let’s just say the ‘salad dodger’ cleared the plate.
Fish n Chips
Completely stuffed after two fantastic courses we needed a pre dessert breather which was filled nicely by a bottle of Domaine Mont Auriol which is a Viognier. A delicious French white with hints of apricot and lemon.
I also had a wander around the restaurant looking at all the framed posters of which there are many. Even the gents have their walls covered in classic black and white photographs of leading men. I can only assume the ladies is similar. Yes I took a picture. Yes it might seem odd to many but I thought it was quite stylish and am contemplating recreating this look (minus urinals) in my own bathroom at home.
I don’t usually have dessert unless it really appeals to me. However when the description reads Hazelenut and Caramel Cheesecake, Toffee Popcorn and Caramel Sauce my first thoughts are GET IN ME. The picture doesn’t do it justice at all. The presentation was perfect and had I not taken the picture before tasting it, lets just say there would be no picture because I pretty much inhaled the dessert it went that fast.
Cheescake
The other dessert equally appealing to the eye was also a treat for the palette. Creme Brulee with shortbread biscuit. There were also three dark chocolate truffles on a somewhat odd and flavourless bit of jelly accompanying it. Might be a case of style over taste on that choice. While I didn’t get to taste the Creme Brulee I’m assured it was delicious. I did however manage to grab a truffle and wasn’t disappointed.
Creme Brulee
For my first visit to The Green Hen, I have to admit, it was a pure feast for the senses in every meaning of the words. The staff were friendly and efficient. The good was tasty and plentiful and I’m still amazed that they were only charging €19 for three courses. It was incredible value. They even sent us on our way with a complimentary shot which left a nice warm feeling in our bellies as we rolled ourselves out of the restaurant.
Having signed up to compete in the 28th Venice Marathon on Sunday October 27th I also had to have a medical cert issued to say that I was fit and healthy and ready to run. As it turned out I didn’t have time to get it done in Dublin as I couldn’t get an appointment with my doctor. The organisers of the marathon however had the helpful option of completing the health check in Venice. Solution found to my problem. I signed up on line to do mine on Friday October 25th at 10.00 a.m in Delta Medica in Mestre. I’d have it done nice and early get it out of the way and then sit back safe in the knowledge the only thing left was the small matter of running the 26 miles.
We (me, Him-indoors and Mincer) flew out to Venice on Thursday 24th fairly early in the morning. Flight about 9ish I think. Like all good Irish boys we were in the airport about two hours beforehand. When I say airport I obviously mean airport bar. We dropped our bags off and then headed to the bar to drop off our pre flight jitters with a few pints. There is something terribly exciting about having a pint before 8 o’clock in the morning. It’s like breaking a rule but because you are technically on holiday you don’t get shunned for it. Everyone knows you can drink at any time of the day or night while on holidays. Myself and Mincer had a few pints of Coors and Him-indoors sensibly stayed on tea (which reminds me, you can’t get a proper cup of tea when you are away).
After boarding the flight myself and Mincer got stuck into the mini bottles of wine. As they are smaller it’s perfectly ok to drink as many of them as you like. So we did. I would say we were only slightly merry when we arrived in Venice. Loads of room for more beer and wine. If you haven’t been to Venice you won’t know how gorgeous it is. Being a bit touched by OCD I had looked up all possible routes from Marco Polo airport to our apartment which was only a few minutes walk from the Arsenale stop. I had visions of myself arriving by Gondola like James Bond in his finery. We got the water bus with all the rest of the economy class people and I was in jeans and a TShirt. It was a bit cramped seat wise and kind of the equivalent of Ryanair on the sea but it got us where we wanted to go in under an hour and the views were just amazing
Arriving Like This ! I wish
Actually Arrived Like This
We found our apartment and dropped our bags and after a good 3-4 second debate we went to the pub. It’s always important to set yourself a goal each today. The goal today was to get roaring drunk as it was the first night of our holiday. We were staying on a lovely street with bars, cafes and restaurants and set out exploring them. Fast forward about ten hours and not only have we hit our goal, we have surpassed it by such a distance that it was now a vague memory. At some point auto pilot must have kicked in because I was woken by my alarm screeching in my ear.
Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkkkkkk I have my marathon health check today. A thousand thoughts flying through my mind. Go back asleep and pretend it’s not happening. Go back to sleep for ten more minutes you will definitely wake up again. Go back to sleep because you can’t focus your eyes correctly and there is a brass band actually rehearsing inside your head. Go back to sleep because getting up after a massive booze session is just not humane.
I managed to literally drag myself to the shower and dress. Him-indoors who not as badly drunk the night before as me also got up to go to the health check with me. I was rattling and I mean rattling with a hangover. Mestre where the place I had to go to was actually on the mainland. I had to get a boat first. That wasn’t actually that bad because I could sit outdoors and worst case scenario I could throw up over the side. After the boat there was a bus trip of about 20 minutes. That 20 minutes felt like two hours. It was a billion degrees (well it was warm) and the sweat was pouring off me. I had a plastic bag in my pocket in case of an emergency. I was that kind of hung over on public transport where you think that everyone is looking at you and they can see you get paler by the second and nudge each other as if to say ‘look at your man he’s going to throw up’.
When I finally got off the bus I had to then walk about another 15 minutes to find the medical centre. Alcohol had somehow managed to take away my power of direction. Despite using Google Maps I still kept getting lost. I had to ring and say I was lost and would be an hour late. To be fair they were very accommodating and made me a new appointment.
Clutching a bottle of water like my life depended on it I sat in the waiting room until my name was called. The staff was incredibly friendly with a fair grasp of English. I could tell the nurse suspected I was a little under the weather. I was still sweating and could only manage slow responses. My name, my name……. I know this one.. Rory that’s my name. She made me blow into some kind of lung checker thing and seemed happy with the results. She filled in a few notes and said we were done. Wow that was easy. NOPE I was done with her but had to see the doctor.
So off to the next room I went and answered more questions. This doctor while equally nice had pidgin English and my Italian was pretty much not existent. Through the great art of speaking the same words louder and the wonder that is miming actions we muddled our way through a questionnaire. I then found myself sitting on an exercise bike with about ten ECG type leads stuck to my back and chest which were hooked up to a monitor. At that point I felt the need to explain I was hung over. Like really hung over. He smiled and nodded and made a gesture that I had to start cycling. Not until that moment did it enter my head that a health check would involve any kind of exercise. I needed sleep and lots of it.
I Needed This
I began to sweat. Like really sweat. Beads of water dripping down my face sweat. I was literally boiling hot. It was like I was actually sitting on the sun itself. I think I was cycling for about 45 seconds at this point. Then came the ‘dizzy’. I started to lose focus and had to squint to see around me. Everything was moving. The exercise bike must have come off its stand. That would explain the moving. No, it was the hangover fighting to take control and it was winning big time. It’s at that point you say that little prayer silently in your head ‘if I get through this I won’t drink again’.
I Imagine I looked like this
The doctor made the international mime gesture for cycle faster. I made the international gesture for I feel like shit and would rather die than endure any more of this. That gesture manifested itself as me shaking my head and rubbing my belly and looking really really sad. As it turned out that gesture had not made it to Italy and he had no idea I was in distress. He probably just thought I was really unfit. I’ll assume he had no sense of smell because I smelled like the slops bucket from behind a bar.
Then came the chills running up my spine and the taste of acid in my mouth and I knew it was all over for me. Gimme the bin, gimmie the bin I slurred at the nice doctor. He smiled and looked at this watch then checked the monitor on the bike. The bin, the bin, I need the bin. Too late. I threw myself off the bike dragging my ECG leads with me and spent a good five minutes with my head in the bin. The only thing I didn’t throw up were my memories and they were fuzzy at best. Not to be disgusting but it was the type of throw up that involves your whole face and it was coming out my nose.
God that felt good. I felt so much better. I was also standing half naked attached to ten leads beside a bin in a doctor’s office at a health check to declare I’m in a perfectly healthy condition. The irony was not lost on me. The doctor stared open mouthed at me. I stared back and then with what little self respect I had left, I done the decent thing and looked at the floor in shame.
He handed me a roll of tissue to tidy myself up and started taking the leads off me. Neither of us spoke. There was nothing really to say. I knew what I had done. He knew what I had done. He was gracious enough to let me take on the job of feeling humiliated enough without adding to it. The Italians are lovely like that.
After I composed myself I said as upbeat as I could ‘so did I pass?’ It turned out that I actually did pass but he did mumble something about me not looking well. I went back to the language of international gestures (miming drinking) and told him I had drank too much the night before but I was ok. I think I might have thrown in ‘I’m Irish’ to clear up any lingering confusion. He signed my form and I clutched it to me like a newborn baby and headed out the door.
Him-indoors was in the waiting room and could tell from my face I was not a well man. We made a swift exit from the buliding and I told him what had happened. I was not ready to laugh about it but he found it hysterical. We had to walk 3 miles then to the Expo to pick up my race pack before going home. It did have quite a snazzy running vest in it which I immediately put on. I had bloody well earned it and going to let everyone know I was a contender in this marathon. The day was a write off in every sense of the word. I swore I’m never drinking again.
A girl in work had told me about a trip she took over to Irelands Eye. It was never somewhere I ever thought about visiting but out of curiosity I hit Google to see what I could find out.
In 700 AD three holy men, who were the sons of Nessan a prince of the Royal House of Leinster, formed a church on Ireland’s Eye. The church was named “Cill Mac Nessan”. There they wrote a copy of the four Gospels named the Garland of Howth. It was similar to the Book of Kells and it is also in Trinity College Dublin. Continue reading