Time ceased to exist this weekend when 16 young writers set up camp in two tatched cottages just outside Doolin in County Clare. The scenery was magical, the sea pounded against the cliffs edge threatening to swallow us, it foamed, it spat, it came over us as a giant wave and left us standing, soaked to the bone staring out at the fairytale scene.
There is no real way to describe it all, there was something in the air, a shared euphoria, the mindset of the maddened crowd, the cult, the football fanatic, dancing and dancing to the beat of bongos and shakey things.
We played drinking games with a creative twist, engaged in a long cold battle, painting our faces for war and shoving ice cubes down each others tops. There were mini plays and stories and poems, there were dance offs and clapping and reading howl drunkingly so the words trip over each other and fall flat on peoples ears.
There was being chased by cows with menacing moos that we were convinced were bulls, there was being covered in mud and climbing over gates trespassing in local farmers fields, there was walking up hidden paths that lead to no where but anticipated each step, there was standing on the cliffs edge watching waves pound and leap as high as cliffs, there was linking arms and standing close to sea, there was attempting to get wet and being wet far more than we wished, there was kidnapping girls from rival cottages and holding them hostage over night, there were bedrooms of fun where young girls and a very effeminate guy jumped up and down on the beds yelling "fun fun fun", there was entering bedrooms with screams and comments meant to be misconstrued by all sleeping in the surrounding rooms. There was singing moonriver in a sea of blankets and faces drunk on tiredness, euphoria, alcohol and clare, there was the creation of memories, of moments shared in that place where time froze and ceased to exist.
As Sean put it, we fell in love with each other individually and collectively- there is no way to go back there but there is a bond in sharing a moment like that, an unspoken pact.
