Wonderful weekend

I’m back from Cork after two days staying with Kerouac Phoenix. I got back to Dublin an hour ago and I walked all the way from Heuston Station to the city center listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I’m drained, completely and utterly knackered and it’s all because I had such a good time. You cannot believe how great it was to have everything fall into place after taking a jump in the dark. One of the many strange things about OD is that much as we hate to admit it, we don’t know each other that well. I mean, we know each other’s innermost thoughts and broadly what someone’s attitudes towards various issues might be. There might be a few reference points, yes. But essentially, once you meet someone from OD in real-life, you’re going to be meeting a stranger and that’s that. It’s hard to accept it, but if you really want to meet someone off OD, be prepared to get to know them.

This weekend was spent, therefore, getting to know Catherine. “Kerouac Phoenix – Behind The Courgettes” if you will. A warts-and-all look at everyone’s favourite (former) shoe monkey. She has no warts, by the way. I think. We didn’t get nekkid or anything. Although I did leave her camcorder going in her room one time but anyway….

I arrived at Ceannt Station at 8pm last Friday night and was promptly met by herself and her lovely friend Claire, who’s a phantom reader of these parts. I didn’t know this until she mentioned something about OD and suddenly I felt like Lois Lane had mentioned to her friend about Clark’s secret pastime. Clark Ceannt? Anyway, I was brought to Patrick Street, where I met Ann and we all walked to Bodega’s. Now Bodega’s….lemme tell you. Imagine a huge pub in Dublin with three storeys, a cover charge and a pack of wankers for clientele. Well in Cork, they’re not so greedy and so the roof was very, very high. Which I just loved, especially when we sat on a couch. Soon, I was Heino-ed up and making stupid jokes, pulling faces and generally being myself. Which is a lovely, lovely break from the norm. I was so relaxed and it was definitely an “on night”. I can’t emphasize enough how something so apparently small as enjoying myself in a nice pub (it’s really more of a “bar”) with nice people is to me. Thoughts of Nokias, buses, work, television, Popbitch and the trillions of trivial shit that dominate my brain simply evaporated. And I began to wonder why this is so rare.

I slept very well that night, so well that it was the afternoon before I woke up. Seeing Catherine do all the things I’ve read about is a bit strange, especially since she’s described herself so well. People’s Republic of Cork t-shirts, brown runners, purple coats……it’s all her. And then the place she’s in; this wonderful big old house that’s decrepit yet loveable, just like Eamon Dunphy. It sometimes felt like walking around on a film set; I’m in a place I’ve only read about and yet know.

Saturday was spent wandering. I loved the wondering; as I’d never been to Cork, I really wanted to be able to describe it. And I can, but I won’t because it’d take to long. Suffice is to say its like Dublin only with more windy streets, a LOT more phone shops (Vodafone and O2 appear to be fighting some kind of bloody and hostile war on the streets of Cork) and a fierce amount of hills. We had something nice to eat in the Newport and bought tickets to see a film. Being the hygiene freak I am, I wanted to head back and shower so we got a taxi back in with this hilariously-working class taximan who’s face I’d love to have seen we Catherine told him we were going to see “Bowling For Columbine”. A documentary. He was so confused.

“Bowling For Columbine” was jaw-droppingly brilliant and every single American should see it, although from what I’ve heard a lot have already. I won’t g on about it because I’d be here all night but Michael Moore systematically sorted through all the issues involved in gun control in the US, came to a frighteningly simple yet brilliant and entirely plausible conclusion and done some good while doing it (he started a campaign that resulted in K Mart halting sales of bullets, something I found shocking in the first place). So go see it. Right.

We went to The Oval after that and Ann came along. We walked up to Bodega’s and thanks to Catherine’s brazenness, walked into the restaurant section and evicted two ponces from a comfy corner table and couch. The three of us sat there and chatted for ages and then Ann left to meet up with folk. So there was Catherine, Gin, Tonic, me and ‘Ken. Just the two of us, lightly sozzled and yapping away. Her on one side of the corner of the table, me on the other. And we just chatted and went terribly honest and she’s just lovely. I mean, what a friend. Standing ovation time. I decided there and then that Catherine and Joe, sitting in the corner talking in Bodega’s as the crowds left and our voices echoed down the room, was the best moment of the year. There haven’t been many, but it was lovely. She asked me at the time why I was smiling to myself. That’s why.

Today, at 5pm, I had to go home. Annoyingly, I didn’t really since I have to wait till 11pm for a bus anyway and leaving Cork at 7pm would have been fine. But maybe it was best to get it over with sooner. We walked to the station and I was all mangled inside because I’d never made such a friend so quick. Maybe OD is a way of accelerating friendships, a good foundation for getting to know someone but not the proper, full way. I got to know Catherine the proper, full way this weekend. And saying goodbye was too soon. I wanted to stay; I was so frustrated at having to leave. We hugged and I walked under the subway to the platform and I just wanted to run back. This life, this person. Why do I have to leave it and go back to everything mediocre? Everything comfortable and fine. But nothing like.

I was restless on the train as it left the station just like the last time in Kilkenny, although that was for a different reason. This time was different, the whole weekend was different. And wonderful. So thanks.

j