In Boil-the-Water Land

 I was taking the small dog for a pre-breakfast walk in Boyle Harbour, and as I passed a boat a voice asked 'Is the roof on yet?' Someone who read my blog!? I didn't want to presume so muttered some class of query. But it was. And Angela gave me a DVD of her travels too, called Angela's Journey, 2013, so a splendid start to the day.

Of course Angela asked the question because the house build has taken over this blog, but we've been boating too, driving up to Leitrim for a few days, then back to do house stuff. We were in Leitrim Village, first on the dodgy jetties where this notice makes you nervous:

 These jetties were supposed to be released to Waterways Ireland, who built a bridge allowing access to the carpark and facilities. Never happened. The developer went into receivership and apartments just up from this sign, and the jetties, are now the responsibility of NAMA. Some boats outstaying their welcome were chained to the jetties, a boaty version of clamping.

So we left the boat on the wall below the bridge while we went home for a few days:

Then part of a timber-boat sandwich in Cootehall:

And then to Boyle, where there's a boil notice on the water. There was one in Cootehall too, but I couldn't resist the boyle and boil. Sorry. This water problem has been going on for 18 months, and is unlikely to be solved until the new water authority comes into being. Fortunately we were forwarned so filled up our water tanks before entering Cryptosporidium County.

After Boyle we mooched into Lough Key, heading for the Forest Park's new jetties. We'd seen them from the land a couple of times, and they didn't look particularly appealing - we were sure we'd prefer our usual spot on Drumman's Island - but no harm in dropping in for an hour or two. We slotted into a spot that was surprisingly pleasant. Everything looked different from this point of view. We could look out into the lake and the island with the castle on it, were close to trees. Not so bad after all.

It was also a great opportunity for Joe to do his salesman thing with 'Skipper', which he did with his usual verve. He's truly amazing. I'm still shite, embarrassed in the background.

There's all sorts of jolly activities at Lough Key. Look at these guys on Segways:

I've just found out more than I ever knew about the Segway from Wikipedia. It's proper name is Segway PT, PT standing for personal transporter, which sounds a bit Star Trek to me. The name Segway comes from segue, which means smooth transition. Segue is one of those words you see written down more often than you hear it spoken. When I was doing my MA, one of the tutors was going on about one thing segueing into another, and he was saying segwaying. My God, I thought, he's making a fool of himself. Fortunately I said nothing, thereby saving myself a red face (why is it OK to confess such things on a blog?). The thing is, Joe thought it was pronounced 'seeg' too. You know, as in words like vogue. How you get segway out of segue seems peculiar even for the English language.

Another activity was this sort of thing:

No, monkeys haven't been introduced to the park. This is a man. There are many children too, clipped on and clambering, zipping, climbing, swinging, even cycling through the trees. This was the domain of Zipit Forest Adventures, and I have to say I was tempted. Not by this stupidly high-off-the-ground stuff, obviously, but by the low-down zipwires designed for eight-year olds. Maybe tomorrow.

Tomorrow, however, started damp and got wetter. No zipping. No cycling until we finally went out in the rain in late afternoon. We finally left, still waterproofed up, and decamped to Carrick where it finally stopped raining.

And then, finally, to Drumsna to relax with tools and wine.