WWW: Day 11 – Magic at the Monastery
Today’s quiet beginning laid the foundation for a crescendo into spontaneous greatness.
The morning was spent in pleasant preparations for, and execution of, a church BBQ. I love barbecues, but I’m unused to the Irish version (re: wet. and indoors).
While it was still great hanging out with the locals, I still missed that summer magic that sizzles with the heat of the grill.
One Hour Later…
We ended up driving to the tiny resort town of Port Stewart. It was equal parts seaside and carnival, and the whole place seemed alive with holiday spirit – in fact, we stumbled upon a seaside celebration that included live music:
My favorite thing about this concert, besides being right next to the Irish coast? When a drunk man came up and slung his arm around one of our team mates for a quick hug! The look on his face was PRICELESS.
“You’re my beeesssssttt friieeeenndd…” He slurred. Where was my camera?!
It was blustery cold, the sea was roaring, the sky ominous, and my heart was never lighter. Being part of a crowd often does that to me – I react strongly to the emotions of my surroundings (a blessing and a curse). When the concert was over, the boys took us on another adventure:
There was something more powerfully thrilling about exploring after dark, despite the elements. The weather gradually got worse until the skies split with a deluge of rain. We shivered, we ran, we laughed, and I’ve never felt more alive.
When we tumbled breathlessly back into town at midnight, the sky suddenly exploded with fireworks! It was almost as if they were celebrating our safe return from the cliffs, and it was magic. The fireworks were set off behind the monastery that overlooked the town, illuminating its Gothic glory for all to see.
I was breathless with delight (and I was winded from running back). The whole world seemed to shimmer and sparkle as the fireworks were reflected in the fresh rain.