It was on the first night that it happened. We were in a canoe and it was very, very dark. Pitch black, actually.
As buildings go, it’s not much to write home about. A pretty nondescript place, to be honest, in a not very attractive part of the city.
Somewhere in the middle of this extraordinary island, 70 miles off the coast of Africa, is a rather unique place. It’s a house.
I’m sitting in The Red Lobster, a comfy little pub in the charming seaside village of Waterville, about halfway around the Ring of Kerry, and Pat’s pit