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For our friends Drumsurn


We were told that the next article would be written in Scotland. It will be in Ireland since we are always.
We intended to put the boat in the water at the end of March, we ended in April.
We had to Coleraine late April. We are always there with May and a windy, rainy and cold weather. In the morning, we have just 10 ° in the boat. Coffee on the fire, gently warms the atmosphere, we reach 12-13 ° and 16 ° in the day was exceptional.
Under these conditions, no desire to go, especially since it does not really cost us, as always, too,surrounded by our Irish friends.
We have not missed a session Pub part, on a Monday, Anne seized, not wanting to infect anyone.

We will tell you more detail of Brown's Pub.
No photos, internet connection too low, refer to the previous article.

Usually we meet people, singles, and then a couple more rarely a family.
This is a great family we have discovered and adopted us as His children.
Family, as consisting of about thirty people. The youngest is 16 years old, the oldest 80.



Men and women of all social conditions, but also, and this is very important in Northern Ireland, of different faiths. Catholics alongside Protestants and vice versa, without any ambiguity, while having their own ideas. It seems that it is still relatively smoothly even during the period of unrest in the charming village of Drumsurn.

We had this Pub because we met Carol and Richard who, after three days, decided to give us their home for six weeks, six weeks devoted to skiing in La Plagne.
Before they left they made us discover, briefly, what to visit in which Brown's Pub region.

Located in a small village inland. The main entrance on the street is doomed and we need to go through a small door to a courtyard. Any indication. Needless to say, if you do not know, you're far from imagining that there is animation behind these walls every Monday night at 21 o'clock. Consists of three small rooms, the first dedicated to caskets emptied of their instruments and, as we shall see later the snack, the second is reserved for players and spectators, the last on to consumers and to absorb the overflow of spectators On busy days, these pieces are quite small, within twenty square meters each.

The core is composed of fifteen musicians Pub regulars for over ten years for some. Among them the band members' Whiskey in the jar "Willis on guitar and vocals, Chris violin and Eunan the whistle. Every week, they play in a nightclub in Portstewart on the coast where students of all nationalities, come have fun on Thursday evening. Electric atmosphere for us "old people", surrounded by the student crowd, somewhat alcoholic, shouting rather than speaking, wearing very short, perched on high heels that give them the approach heron, except that the legs s' most often related to the "hippopotamus" genre. The boys spend almost unnoticed in the commotion "sopranique" being outnumbered. They have little effort to do for a possible conquest. Do not think that this is a critical, simple observation




It is precisely at nine o'clock that Gabriel, Special Envoy of our host family came to pick us up the first time, to introduce us to the "holy of holies."
Where are you from? You spend the winter here? Do you play an instrument? Anne piano and Jean-Pierre tries to harmonica.
Music shorten this short entry on and here we are transported by the Irish rhythm that reminds us of our Breton music.
Three pints of Guinness later for me, a hot whiskey for Anne. Gerard, who did not drink, we'll walk and Gabriel in our respective homes.
In the car, emboldened by Guinness. This is still a ½ liter of beer for someone who does not drink, it gives you wings. I go out, so my harmonica and play three notes.

I started a year ago, roughly, leaving the trumpet too loud and too difficult to learn without a teacher. If the harmonica is easy, it is a musical instrument in its own right, with its difficulties and I am not well sided.
As an aside, it is still a boat meets a lonely sailor who introduced me to the harmonica. , You may remember Peter trumpet player, harmonica, painter and poet, met Chateaulin, Brittany!

The second Monday is Janette, sister Carol, who comes looking for us.
Upon entering amazement piano was installed in the middle of the room for Anne. After much explanation, our English is still superficial they agree to keep it in a corner, Anne, not feeling to play without sheet music and an audience.
The piano as well as the trumpet is a demanding and difficult instrument with or without a teacher. I want to commend the courage that Anne was compelled to an hour a day classical piano for slow progress to be heard. Long ago that I would have traded for a piano straps, more accessible, but Anne is kind of persevering.





That evening Gerry accordionist talent, we dedicate the "Waltz of the Magdalen Islands." Anne is seen out in this beautiful French waltz by Eamon followed closely by his brother Seamus. To 23 hours, Gabriel asked me to play something. I was prepared for it and secretly hoped
"Dirty old town", an Irish classic that I could get home, was crippled well before my first audience, yet all acquired in my case and so accommodating. It was not a disaster anyway because the first time is a bit like skydiving, we do not know what awaits us!
Adrian lent his bodhran, percussion instrument typical of Celtic music, to Anne who is seized and tried to find the rhythm with some success. We saw ourselves escort by Lynne's daughter Janette, who had not been drinking.

The third Monday, not wanting to disturb anyone, knowing the input of "artists" and having a car, we go on our own. It is not more than three miles from home. Adrian still has lent his bodhran Anne. JP has tried to "Greens Leeves."
When we wanted to leave with the car at 1 am, it does not even matter here, we do not compromise with drunk driving, although few drinks, caused the car remained in the parking lot and Gerard escorted us Woodview, our house at the time.

The next visit to Eamon that in addition to its music recommendations, plays banjo, guitar, mandolin, violin and cello, we learned to make scones.
That same day during our daily walk on snowy Mount Glenullin, meeting with a former bricklayer who seizes my harmonica and we played in the countryside, a little devilish look.

Music is everywhere in Ireland, almost everyone sings or plays an instrument.



We look forward, our son arrives for a week. We will seek to Belfast airport, always with "our car." He was charged more than reason: Roquefort, foie gras, pie, bread, red wine, all the groceries that we are a bit lacking, and a dozen books. The gifts were these particular they are more important in our eyes when the difficulty is great in achievements ... Flying with all this stuff is just a token of love, thank you to our beloved son .
For us to help them discover the region, it will be easy because we have a vehicle and of course we go to Pub.

Maureen, owner of the Pub, assisted by Liam, his brother, a former French teacher and occasionally our translator. Knowing that our son would be this week, we had concocted a meal, everything from French: baguette, pate, cheese, cakes, etc ... 11:30 A.m., we are all in the room went collate adjacent used to store the caskets.
Anne played the bodhran subdued before his son, JP skinned "The Little Drummer Boy."
Back to 1 hour.

The next day, visit the distillery "Bushmills" after tasting, we buy bottles that we are obliged to keep, can not send alcohol by parcel post. Visit the memorial "Joey and Robert Dunlop," died of champions "North West 200." Prestigious motorcycle race on the road, the same type as that of the Isle of Man.

This week, our son, was very short, too short, but he was able to finger, the friendship that emerges from all these people. He himself seduced Carol already saw a good match for his daughter Anna's. We would have given him great pleasure as her daughter is nice and pretty. But now we are no longer in the air of arranged marriages.
He is gone,
We left everything crestfallen,
Have slipped a harmonica in his bag,
Perhaps, they conclude a pact.



We will continue our evening at Pub.
Adrian ended up offering a bodhran Anne Eamon and offered him the beaters. We will bring them to the end of our trip! .... This will be our passport to the Scottish Pubs.
Janette gives eggs their hens freedom.

As our stay in the house is completed, normally we make the car, so we can come over to the pub. We make cakes to celebrate our departure. We will taste to 23 hours, according to custom, in the small room adjacent.
Everyone is sad and we so!. But they have ideas to get us back among them.
Adrian, Gabriel, Liam, Seamus and Mickey, we simply offer to pick us up at the boat and take us back to the closing. What would make them fifty miles, since we would be back in Coleraine ... Eamon, we simply offers to sleep with him. We can not accept and that is with a heavy heart that we separate.
It did not count on Carol and Richard who decided to leave us their car and it is for four months, we go to the Pub every Monday.

The following Monday, Anne and bodhran, harmonica JP and begin to be part of the furniture, but every Monday is different. To honor them, we learn their songs.
JP tries to "Danny Boy" who must be turning in his grave and Anne hits his bodhran which is well wonder what happened to him.
Jimmy's violin playing us "Under the bridges of Paris." We did not know, then, that we do not meet again. Three weeks later, it will be swept away by cancer. In his honor, JP play "Under the Bridges of Paris" on the harmonica. Unfortunately, not with the same "brilliant".

During our absence, the port of Coleraine has installed sanitary, with heating. Over the pool where we met Gillian yet we always meet again, and her husband Ivan, and their mutual friends Rosemary and Jonathan.




One afternoon while we were at the boat, Mickey's Pub playing the bodhran, the whistle and harmonica, we made ​​a visit as it is sometimes. This time, it was to offer me a harmonica "Suzuki Bluesmaster" key "D". This key is used for Irish music. This harmonica has since become my favorite. For Anne, it offers another beater for his bodhran, which is more manageable for a beginner.

That's how they are, not knowing how we have fun and it's not finished ....
We will not mention all the dinners we were invited.

We will come back four times in the home of Carol and Richard, for stays of ten to twelve days. Each time, with a lot of fun so the house is nice. Anne through their paces on a baby grand, a little out of tune, it is true. Even Kalet did no mistake and running around when we arrive.

We sublime walks on the snowy heights, discovering the brush rabbits on the pristine snow and one day a fox from his being a senator in the whiteness of the snow. What beautiful images we have not printed in our minds and on the "film".
Another day, arriving at the boat, two new fenders were in position. It was Richard that he saw that we were not very well off, we had offered, saying he had too.




A session was held on the boat, with Adrian bodhran and whistle, banjo Eamon and Seamus to the accordion, it offers Anne a four-leaf clover in his garden "Irish symbol."
The Gwenn Ha Du converted Pub. An idea to repeat.

The next day, it's Liam who landed the boat, with a bottle of whiskey from Coleraine.
Another night at the pub, John, we knew having seen often, but without ever having seen or sing or play any instrument out harmonicas "tremolo" and begins to play. A little later in the evening, it gives me a "Hohner Marine Band" and towards the end of the evening, I was busy enjoying to discuss is that Anne gives two of his harmonicas "tremolos ". Since JP is slowing every day to get some gigs and reels.

For St. Patrick's Day "stew" "Irish stew" made by Maureen for about 30 to 35 people present that evening.
Adrian, bodhran, whistle, vocals.
Anna, singing, dancing.
Arnold, bodhran.
Chris, fiddle group "Whiskey In The Jar".
Carol singing.
Clara, chromatic accordion.
Doreen, diatonic accordion.
Eamon, multi-instrumentalist string, singing.
Eunan, whistle, singing group "Whiskey In The Jar".
Gabriel, mandolin, vocals.
Gerard, violin, singing.
Gerry, diatonic accordion.
Helen singing.
Isobel, whistle, fiddle.
John, harmonica, vocals.
Jimmy, multi-instrumentalist.
Jean-Paul guitar.
Lawrence, diatonic accordion.
Mary, guitar, vocals.
Mickey, guitar, mandolin.
Mickey, bodhran, harmonica, whistle.
Micheal, guitar, bass.
Rory, harmonica, whistle, vocals.
Seamus, chromatic accordion.
Shane, guitar, banjo.
Shane, guitar, vocals.
Sarah dancing.
Willis, guitar, singing group "Whiskey In The Jar".
In addition, the loyal fans.
Bridgenn, Derek, David, Fionnuala, Janette, Lynne, Ian, Seamus and all those which we do not know the name.
All these people have welcomed us with an incredible way.
We probably brought them to distraction, the jokes were not absent, but still "good child." This is all that we gave them and oh we have been delighted!



What should be our true last night. There had been three, like those artists who make their farewells and can not help but return. We are invited once again to dine and sleep at Carol and Richard. One of those meals that you do not forget, with their daughter Anna's mom Mary Carol, Carol's brother Derek, his wife Kim and their two lovely kids, Joseph and Evie. Children lying we will, of course, Pub.
The musicians are already in action. Liam and Maureen overwhelmed by orders, Guinness, Tennent's, Whiskey, hot or cold water, fruit juices, there is something for everyone. Anne faithful to hot whiskey for me already from the third party content myself a Guinness followed by apple juice not to sing too. What divinely Carol without alcohol. Anna's also sang all the faces were serious, as affected at heart. There is Amy, sister Anna that we have not heard is to work in Scotland and has a reputation for high voice.
This day will offer me another harmonica by Eamon, a "Frontiers Harps Gold" beautiful. I'll play immediately "Java Blue" moderately well, although I have made
​​good progress
, with assistance at all.

Came a highlight of the evening. Carol wrote and recited a poem in honor of the "Frenchies" and "Pub".
No need to add more, simply read.







Now settle down revellers and drink up your beer

A story I'll tell you, of people so dear

Of  Frenchies' and Port folk, of musicians and all

And a village in Ireland, the best of them all!



T'was the back of November, on a bright autumn day

When Richard as usual was having his way

For instead of the garden and cutting the grass

He was over with "SILENCE", his favourite lass.



He was spending the morning, just rubbing her down

He thinks she's a woman- that ass of a clown,

He shines and he cleans and spares no expense

"She's cheaper than a mistress", is his only defence.



When his work was all finished, he put on his coat

And started for home but hen saw a tin boat,

He noticed the French flag and decided to shout

"Bonjour mes amis – is anyone about?"



Then out from the cockpit, appeared our JP,

"Come on up on board and I'll make you some tea"

To his pleasant surprise, as soon as Dick sat

Out came Madame Anne, with her dainty wee plait.



So that's how it started, a friendship began

Richard and Carol, JP and Anne,

They chatted together, they didn't always understand

But signalled and signed, by waving their hand.



So January came and the ski slopes they beckoned

The Copelands set off but they'd already reckoned

That the Frenchies were perfect – sure they were made for the job

Of house-sitting duties – without paying a "bob"!



So JP and Anne moved into Woodview

And Kalet their wee dog, she moved in too,

The rule book was simple, "keep on the lights,

and don't forget this – Brown's – Monday nights!"


For JP and Anne had the musical ear

And their love of the craic, was really quite clear

So when Gabriel called, they were ready & waiting

To get to the pub – there was no hesitating!



On the first Monday night, they set off for the pub

But they never had planned, on joining a club

Of musicians and poets and singers as good

As our Liam's french and wee Maureen's food.



That first night they listened, the music was great

"We'll come every week, we'll make it a date"

Said JP to Anne, "but we must play our part"

So at instrument playing they both made a start.



Brave Anne was the first, to give it a go,

She took up the bodhran and the rhythm did flow

The challenge was set, for Adrian said so,

"When Anne's better than me, she'll have to go!"



The maestro is Chris, whose fiddle's on fire

While Eamon swaps his banjo for another guitar

JP perfects harmonica, hes come along qwer

Playing Danny Boy… or is it the Londonderry Ayre?!



While blowing is whistle Michaels face is a sight

While Arnold rubs Guinness on his bodhran all night.

Doreen and Gerry bring us squeeze box glory

And Gerard sings his swan song "oh thats amore!"



There is Willis and Micky who both play guitar

All the while Liam is busy, setting drinks on the bar

There's Seamus on accordion & Gabriel's mandolin

With Isabell and Eunan whose whistles are tin.



JP might be French but he's learnt the Irish wit

The more Guinness you drink the more you feel fit

To blow and to blow, through the har-mon-ic-a

The tunes are getting better, he'll soon play at a fleadh!



There's no end to the music – no song is too hard

The "sash" or "the soldier's song" aren't even barred,

There's Irish & folk songs, and even jazz & blue

There's soul, rock & gospel, as well as pop too.




Your son came to visit, a long time had passed

Since Kochise you'd seen, time passes so fast,

You travelled around, on the irish tourist trail

You were always so busy, with no time to sail.



On the old griddle pan, Eamon taught you to bake,

Making sodas & scones, sure they're better than cake.

With a supply of fresh eggs, from Janette at the farm

If you gained extra pounds, it will do you no harm.



Now the winter is over, the seas start to heat

You've packed up your boat, she's looking so neat,

It's time to move on, from the old emerald isle

You've seen quite a bit, travelling many a mile.




So to Anne & JP, we all wish you well

We will miss you so much, sure can't you tell?

The high seas are calling, for Scot – land you set sail

Long after you're gone, we will tell of your tale.



May the sea rise to meet you, may the sun warm your face

May the wind push you onward, and give you good grace,

We pray for your safety and await your return

To your friends and new family, here in Drumsurn.

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On en veut encore traité de cette manière. Continuez.
It is music suggestions, amusements banjo, guitar, mandolin, fiddle also cello, we scholarly to earn scones. That equivalent age when our regularly wade on white Increase Glenullin, huddle beside a sometime bricklayer who captures my harmonica plus we played in the countryside, a small evil visage.
This is really a great piece of writing. It is nice to read about what Mary Carol prepared for Christmas night. I will share this post with my friends and I am sure that they will love it. Thanks a lot for sharing this with us.