Over Here, They Just Call It Music

Quick update before I turn in.

My plan worked, and I had a nice meal at McGann’s and staked out a good seat for when the music started. It was a good evening.

The musicians showed up and started a little bit early, which was completely fine by me. It's hard to see in this picture, but between the guitar player at the back and the white-haired gentleman on the left, there's another man who played guitar and banjo.
The musicians showed up and started a little bit early, which was completely fine by me. It’s hard to see in this picture, but between the guitar player at the back and the white-haired gentleman on the left, there’s another man who played guitar and banjo.
The singer had one of those classic Irish voices, and knew a huge number of songs by heart, judging from how quickly he was able to accommodate requests. He also played the bass on the instrumental numbers.
The singer had one of those classic Irish voices, and knew a huge number of songs by heart, judging from how quickly he was able to accommodate requests. He also played the bass on the instrumental numbers.
A customer had a harmonica with him, and sat in for a tune. I believe the tune he played was Apples in Winter, but don't hold me to that.
A customer had a harmonica with him, and sat in for a tune. I believe the tune he played was Apples in Winter, but don’t hold me to that. He was really good, though.

Okay. Now I have to explain a Hen Party.

Hen Parties are the Irish1 version of a bachelorette party. The bride-to-be’s friends pick some sort of costume theme, and go out to party on the town. We had one of those show up and basically take over the pub, singing their own version of The Green and Red of Mayo, forming a conga line, doing some step dancing, and pelting the musicians with special requests. They were, apparently, dressed as Father Ted’s Lovely Ladies or something – I dunno. I didn’t quite catch it, and I’ve never watched Father Ted, so it wouldn’t have helped, anyway.

Hen Parties are – I am told – usually rowdy, but in a fun, high-spirited way, and this was no exception. The German couple sharing my table commented, “The Irish really know how to celebrate something,” and I couldn’t agree more. It was a loud, fun night.

About all you can see of this woman is her pink sleeve and the microphone she's holding. She sang a wonderful version of Black is the Colour.
About all you can see of this woman is her pink sleeve and the microphone she’s holding. She sang a wonderful version of Black is the Colour.

And then the musicians packed up and left, and I did the same.

Tomorrow is Doolin Cave. My tour there isn’t until 11:00, so I’m taking advantage of that to sleep in a bit.

  1. And possibly UK, but I’m not sure. [↩]

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