I walked to the village center of Galway this morning. All the central streets had been turned into paved shopping areas. Earlier in the week, I stopped to watch a Gaelic dancer nearby. . along with a crowd of students, tourists and locals. I was surprised at how much money was being thrown in. You could actually earn enough to get by, and, at the same time, get your exercise for the day, and maybe even pave your way to a career in Irish dance. I enjoyed it, but I didn’t have any euros in my pocket, so I didn’t contribute.
But this morning was special. There was a guitarist tuning up. Young, early 20’s with a small classical guitar and a 5 watt Roland amp. His head was shaved. He just finished the job that mother nature had started . . way too early I’m thinking. He was stocky and appeared to be Czech or middle-European. I asked if he would play an Irish folk song. How trite. Am I a tourist or what?
He smiled and played. Gently at first, fingerpicking, with a ringing high note which gave it a Gaelic feel. He played up the neck and finished with some heavy strumming and a light finale. It was very enjoyable. I was glad to contribute . . and I even had a few Euros in my pocket. By the time I left, he had earned about 10 Euros . . in 10 minutes or so.
Walking home, I felt a biting wind from the North. It was cold. The weather was changing. I was wondering what the day would bring.