Bipolar

I have been putting it off for a while, or rather meant to do it for some times and somewhat forgot; Well over twenty years now in fact. But the other day, the idea of going on a wild goose chase, travelling to the north west of the island to witness the wonderful ballet of Barnacle Geese, had been resuscitated by my friend Jonathan Shackleton. I must have mentioned it in one of our conversations, and as he was soon to be heading back to Antarctica for another few weeks’ round as a guide and lecturer, time was ticking, and by the time he’d come back, they would probably be gone back to Greenland. He rang me a couple of days before to confirm, and Sunday last, we finally went.

When I go on one of my ornithological outing, I make sure to eat a good breakfast; something that can keep me going until late in the afternoon, the worst thing that could happen to me, is a bout of the munchies! I made, like every other morning, a buckwheat crêpe, with scrambled eggs and Gubbeen cheese from West Cork, a mug of green tea, a banana and some fresh walnuts… Yeah, I was ready.

Jonathan and his wife Daphne picked me up at 10am; I love driving, but I must say that I was happy enough to be the co-pilot this time; we headed across country on the small roads of the foggy midlands, before reaching Longford, Carrick On Shannon, and finally entering co. Sligo by Castlebaldwin, home of the famous Cairns of Carrowkeel, Neolithic vestiges of a long gone people, passage way to another world.

We arrived in Lissadell townland, just a few miles north of Sligo town. It didn’t take us long to find them, in a field overlooking the sea, hundreds of Barnacle Geese were grazing on the lush green grass, gentle cacophony that reminded me of their nearest smaller cousins “The Brents”; I used to patiently wait for them to come back from Siberia and Spitsbergen, spending the winter outside my window, in the Golfe of Morbihan, allowing this little boy to travel with them, wonderful and resilient, truly inspiring. A friend of mine was hoping to find a name for her recently opened psychoanalysis practice, and after seeing a flock of them in Dublin, I suggested “Branta” after its latin name… “Branta Psychoterapy” it became, with all the symbols it represents…

We found a hide near Lissadell house, and stayed there for a good hour, before heading for Raghley and yellow strand for a bit of lunch, like three cops on a stake out, waiting for that heavy shower to stop. Daphne had made some kale and artichoke soup, and it was thick and delicious. We were dwelling on a rare Icelandic Glaucous Gull we just saw, another Arctic Circle visitor, while Jonathan explained to me his own annual migrations, Buenos Aires, Ushuaia, boarding a ship for the Austral continent of ice…

Sometimes I wish I was either of them long haul travellers, I have always been fascinated by cold lands and birdwatching in Ireland has allowed me to get a step closer thanks to our winged visitors. Before heading back, we took a walk on yellow strand, and I promised that our outing will inspire me to do a recipe… Something reflecting the day, the Polar Circle, something satisphying and filling… I was thinking of a buckwheat coulibiac… That should do nicely…

Keep Well and Eat Happy

Slán Tamall,

Franck