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You are here: Home / The Story / PUBS & HAIR SALONS

PUBS & HAIR SALONS

The Story · September 18, 2018

TUESDAY, SEPT. 18

Two small two story homes in Union Hall, Ireland. One is white with potted flowers over the door, the other is pale yellow.
Union Hall

The long, often steep, 45 minutes walk to Union Hall was even harder today because we faced a strong head wind. But it was warm and sunny, again.

At Union Hall, we went into Casey’s pub. I wanted to call the bank and needed a spot to sit down where I had reception. The proprietor came over and started chatting, then hovering and flirting. It was annoying and we left as soon as my call was over. The bank said my bank card had just arrived and was being mailed that day. Serendipity – yeah, right. I’ll believe I have a bank card when I see it.

Traditional looking interior of a restaurant in Skibbereen, Ireland.
Skibbereen restaurant
MARY’S SALON

We drove to Skibbereen for an appointment with Mary at her salon. Mary came to Fiona’s house the day before she left to do Fiona’s hair, and Fiona raved about how good she is. Mary, another red head, is the friendliest person we’ve come across.

“Ooooooh,” she’d say, “how are you girls?” whenever she saw us, dragging out her vowels, a big welcoming smile on her face. I imagine Mary as having the idyllic, simple life, marrying her high school sweetheart, studying to be a stylist, started her own salon, having two healthy, well-adjusted children and keeping close friendships with everyone in town.

She grew up down the street from Fiona’s house in a small cottage. Her father was a fisherman. Her two daughters have stayed close, one is 26 and lives above the salon with her high school boyfriend, the other is 23 and lives at home but is going to work in Sydney, Australia, for six months.

It’s interesting to me that the girls haven’t left home. It seems everyone leaves home in North America. How different we can be in terms of our contentment quotient.

I asked Mary and the other woman working in the salon if they think the English are still racist toward the Irish. “No, no, no,” they said, looking at me like I was out of my mind. I turned away from subjects of history and politics, and we talked about some of the goings on in town, the landscape, and the dogs. Mary’s dog, Poppy, also a golden retriever, is Saffi’s best friend (and I think Poppy is somehow related to Saffi (not unlike many dogs here!)

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Filed Under: The Story Tagged With: Ireland, skibbereen, walking trail, West Cork

Anne

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