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Jayzis, no bother there buddy. You won’t get stuck when it’s time to head back home. There’s no shortage of fuel, if you know wha’ oy mean.
A wind-powered cruisin’ ship, now, that’s rapid! An’ a fine lookin’ yoke she is too.
The day you invent a rain-powered engine, you can come back here, and break world records!

Now, for the parking, it’s not wind-powered oy’m afraid.
Yep, it’s a foiver a day.
Cash, if you don’t mind, buddy.
No need to get the tax man involved. Know wha’ oy mean?

art, dublin, dun laoghaire, funny, humour, ireland, marine biology, photography, tourism, travel

It runs on what? Wind?!

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IMG_6838Some shop fronts, and cars, are destined to disappear sooner than later.
That’s the order of things.
It is a bit silly to hang on desperately to the past.
I do like to capture them while they are still around though, and pin them here and in a few hard drives, the odd print, the even rarer photobook.

That’s my inner butterfly collector coming to the surface.

a splash of colour... quite literally, art, bric a crap, dublin, ireland, patience, photography, tourism, travel

Conservatory order

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This is… ahem… theĀ end of summer.
The next season, just around the corner, is autumn. Not spring.

He may be trying to trick you into thinking that the mating season is upon us by wearing his red shorts but nothing could be further from the truth.

Brace yourself for a wetter, gloomier, colder, longer season that makes the Irish “summer” sound like a trip to Disneyland.

a splash of colour... quite literally, art, central heating equipment, dublin, homemade festival in one's back garden, I'd be tempted to admitting to being superstitious but I prefer not to say it aloud, ireland, photography, street photography

Out of season

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Peadar knows that there are not that many nice moments left in life.
So he is milking them.
Every sun ray is a special sun ray.
Every cigarette is a special cigarette.
Every cigarette in the sun is a blessed moment.
He knows. He is counting his blessed moments on his plastic rosary beads.
Next to his two mobile phones.
And his tobacco box with the blue and white saltire.

Peadar is milking it.
He is a nice guy.

I know. I had a chat with him.
I didn’t just steal his image.

It was nice.

I have to stop behaving like a thief.

art, death, dublin, ireland, life lesson, photography, smoking, street photography

Stolen moment

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Aw, bless them…
The Sunshine Cafe persisting in displaying a menu written in something as water-resistant as chalk on slate…

a splash of colour... quite literally, art, dublin, dun laoghaire, funny, humour, ireland, is gourmet burger an oxymoron?, photography, street photography, travel

* Allergy warning – may contain traces of irony

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Hans suddenly remembered that missing Euro coin.
It had been bothering him all morning.
Olga’s left back pocket would be a good starting point for a systematic search.

art, dun laoghaire, durex lex sed lex, Extraction of EUR60 from my wallet, funny, humour, ireland, marine biology, photography, street photography

Alone at last

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I could tell almost instantly, as they reached the bottom of the steps at White Rock, that Johnny and his dad did not quite share the same level of enthusiasm for surfing.
As the latter was squeezing the former in his wetsuit, promises of epic fun may even have been made.

Two face plants in the sand later, and little Johnny was definitely having no more of that nonsense.

He opted to hide in a crevice.

I did not rat on him.

activity park with a potato crisp theme, art, dublin, essential parenting implements, ireland, parenting, photography, street photography

What’s the crag, Johnny?

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