East Cork Micro Meet
Created | Updated Sep 20, 2007
The small fishing village of Ballycotton in East Cork, Ireland is the unlikely setting for a h2g2 micro-meet that spontaneously formed during the week of the 9 September, 2007. The main components of this micro-meet were Metal Chicken, Phil, and Woodpigeon; three Researchers who have been around h2g2 for so long now that they are in danger of sprouting branches and roots and speaking in Entish.
A brief 'The Livingstones I presume', uttered in the a dark alley off Midleton High Street kicked off the night's festivities. The Researchers made a bee-line immediately to the River Inn, a small pub where all the locals stop what they are doing and stare silently for ten minutes every time a stranger enters the door. Pints were had eventually and the conversation started flowing. During the next three hours, the world was put to rights, but it all came apart again towards the end of the night when someone mentioned getting up in the morning very early to go on a cliff walk. If ever there was a conversation killer, that was it.
The following day at the unreasonable time of 9.30am, the three Researchers set off to the cliffs of Ballycotton. Now what do you most associate with the words Irish Weather? Rain, right? Huge bucketfuls of the stuff, pouring in a never-ending deluge from clouds that have been permanently over the country for centuries like a ruddy Great Spot of Jupiter? Well, we can happily report that on this day the Sun was shining and there wasn't even a smidgen of the wet stuff around. In fact, the morning was amazing. No wind, with perfect visibility for miles. The sea was so calm, you could see huge shoals of mackerel creating tiny ripples in an otherwise pristine sea.
The walk was something of a birdwatching treat, too. A small flock of red-beaked choughs fluttered around, trying to make the best of the unseasonably calm conditions. Oystercatchers stood silent on the rocks. Cormorants and black-backed gulls hovered close to the mackerel shoals. It was the mid-air dogfight between a raven and a peregrine falcon that stole the show. The falcon harassed and bullied this formidable black competitor until it was far from his preferred hunting ground. Survival of the fittest in action above our heads.
Time caught up with us in the end, and the Researchers bade goodbye to each other - Phil and Metal heading down to West Cork, and Woodpigeon back to his brood of chicklets. Metal Chicken has her work cut out for her - she is aiming to teach Phil everything she knows about Ireland (many years worth) into one single week. Phil doesn't have a moment to spare...
