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The island is silent now

This morning, just up, at 10 0’clock, I browsed through picture folders and stumbled upon more of my blanket visit in June of this year. It seems like an eternity ago that my friend Lori and I took the boat trip from hell to land in the Great Blasket. Great in name and sound field, small in relation to the ocean. And big in my heart. Can’t explain why.
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The only thing that REALLY REALLY REALLY bugged me were the fences.
As I might have told you all before: Health and safety has landed on the Blasket. Which is truly a sad thing. It’s one place on earth where the fences are a true abomination. There. I wanted to use this word for the longest time and finally found a place or thought to fit it. Google tells me the following:

a·bom·i·na·tion <a href=“http://dictionary.reference.com/audio.html/lunaWAV/A00/A0029500” target=“_blank”><img src=“http://sp.dictionary.com/dictstatic/g/d/speaker.gif” border=“0” alt=“abomination pronunciation” /></a> 

[uh-bom-uhney-shuhthinsp-2011-08-2-10-37.pngn] dictionary_questionbutton_default-2011-08-2-10-37.gif Show IPA
–noun
1.
anything abominable;  anything greatly disliked or abhorred.
2.

intense aversion or loathing; detestation: He regarded lying with abomination.
3.
a vile, shameful, or detestable action, condition, habit, etc.: Spitting in public is an abomination.

The fences are ugly to start off with, and they do NOT belong on the Island. If people can survive a boat ride to the Island, they can survive browsing around, exploring the paths and ways of the people who now have long gone. What is it with Health and Safety (spit) that they think they can barge in wherever they like to tell people that danger is lurking.

We KNOW that we have to be careful, for god sakes. I think that the Island man himself would be as appaulled as I am at the sight of the chicken wire and green poles.

I wonder what the Islanders would say if they were to come back for a couple of hours to inspect their home place. They use to live there, jumping over cliffs like mountain goats, defying gravity on the slip road towards the small harbor on a daily base. Life was what it was… Why is it that sixty years on, a burocratic body has decided that people have to be protected against what exactly with ugly green fences. Eyesores on the landscape. It made me sad. 270511Eire-220-2011-08-2-10-37.jpg
The next thing we know will be that the break wall will have a sign no access…
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The slipway will get a new coat to hide the dangerous rocks, it might even get an elevator seat… And those words are spoken by a person who went up on that same slipway on all fours. We do not need the modern crap on this little piece of heaven…
The fences need to come down, and all that is should stay the way it is. Without further addition.
We don’t need a cafe on the island, I knew up front that there was nobody there on a permanent base and I took my drink in my backpack.
We don’t need electricity or any of the present luxuries available to us modern people.
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I visited the Blasket to experience what the Islanders lived through on a daily base. Something I now can’t even imagine.
Life was simple. They filled up what was empty and emptied what was filled. A truly powerful motto.
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I stand at the scaled model of the Island in the Blasket Centre, wishing I would have lived 100 years ago, just for a couple of days, that I would have spent “in” the Island. Way back when there were no fences.
I heard whispers coming from the sea and the clouds when I was seated in front of Thomas O’Crohan house. I saw tiny children’s foot prints on the white sand of the tiny beach.
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It would be marvelous if people could go back to live in the Island. The old way. The Islanders did it their whole life, we might be strong enough maybe to do it for a couple of days…

Take those darn green fences away.

They do NOT belong in the Island.

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