We set out at dawn. This was dangerous. Very dangerous. In fact dangerous didn’t even cover it. It was super dangerous. The type of dangerous that makes Michael Jackson’s Dangerous Album look far less dangerous than what it is and that in itself, is dangerous. Why was it so dangerous? Well let me tell you my little hipling, Nyree and I were going into the wild. Glendalough to be exact. Why? For the night before, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for Anved, Nyree and I who were staying up downing whiskey and listening to a Belgian dance remix of Saved By The Bell dialogue, Anved said the following...
Anved: You crazy Irish, you don’t understand Mother Nature.
Nyree & Brian: We’re not Irish, we’re European.
Anved: You just don’t understand Mother Nature. If you understand Mother Nature, you understand fear. And then you’re not afraid of anything.
Nyree & Brian: Wtf Anved, lay off the whiskey... and stop eating that hummus. It’s laced with Vodka.
But something struck home. Anved went to bed but we stayed up all night and before dawn, we took our fixies and cycled to Glendalough. Still drunk at the start but fairly sober by the time we arrived from sweat and general exertion, we drank loads of water and freshened ourselves up. Nyree then produced a sneaky bottle of whiskey from her bag, so we downed that and got drunk again, smoked a cigarette and began our drunken rambling into the uncharted abyss of the ‘Irish Wild’.
Now, we’ve seen every episode of Lost and seen Tom Hanks get a hard-on for that Wilson ball in Castaway, so we thought we we’re pretty sorted out mentally for what could happen. But we weren’t. After treking for an eternity through bush and briar, I took off my shoes to go barefoot and be more one with nature like an Indian or something to that effect. They’re always pegging it away from the white man in films without a care in the world. Apart from the white man that is. Immediately after making this transition though, I stood on the plastic thing that six packs of beer come in. Shit. I couldn’t shake it from my ankle. It was a little bit sore and a total fashion-fail. I felt like one of those turtles you see on a GreenPeace ad with their head stuck in it. What the hell was this doing here? This is meant to be the ‘Irish Wild’, the land that time forgot! Nyree, being my bessie, got me to sit down and rest my foot up on a rock. She took water from her canteen (The whiskey bottle we filled up with water) and ran some over my foot. Not sure what it was for but it felt good. The sun blared high in the sky. It must’ve been high noon. My ankle hurt from the plastic and I was beginning to feel traces of fear. Mother Nature was winning.
Nyree: Can you walk?
Brian: Yeah, but it slightly irritates my ankle and it’s a complete fashion-fail.
Nyree: Totes.
Somewhere off in the distance a bird chirps.
Nyree: I have to go get help.
Brian: You can’t leave me. We’re in the middle of nowhere.
Nyree: I’ll be back for you as soon as I can.
Nyree goes to her backpack and takes out another bottle of whiskey.
Nyree: (Cont’d) Take my canteen.
Brian: I don’t need water, I need to ... Where you going?!
Nyree: I’ll be back for you.
Brian: No Nyree! No..................
And just like that she was gone. I saw her running over the hill, stopping to answer a text then continue running for not only my life but I suspect, hers as well. We were in this together. Trapped in the unknown. Facing fear and all his friends and being alone with our animal spirits or some shit like that.
I waited. The heat rose, I looked at my pasty casper-looking skin and thought, I’m like, so going to get a tan line. I almost thought - ALMOST- that it was a bad choice to wear my favorite Du’lamois nuatical tanktop but when remembering the stupid plastic thingy wrapped around my ankle I came back to my senses. Looking good up top, CarBomb on the bottom, such is life. My mouth was dry as if I’d eaten five slices of full-fat bread, I took out the canteen and drank it all. The whiskey tasting water stung my throat but within minutes I was feeling much better. Ah hydration, a hipster’s best friend. Apart from tapered jeans that is. Then, all of a sudden, I became delirious. Heat-stroke. I have heat stoke. I’m done for, Mother Nature has won. But then deep down somewhere deep inside my hipster soul I decided that this is no place for a hipster to die. Especially not me, because even though I had only been in nature or the ‘Irish Wild‘ as I had taken to calling it for half a day, I was already over it. Mother Nature is a bitch. And she wears clothes from TK Maxx. I will not die here! I have to move. I have to beat nature.
I stood up, the slight irritation in my ankle was now more annoying than anything else but I pressed on. For some reason I found myself with a long stick to help me walk and walk I did. Like a trendy Gandalf without the hair or the awful sandals. I walked and walked in the direction Nyree ran, the direction we came. Over hills, down trails, through thick bush and over rivers simply trying to find civilisation and with that, my bessie Nyree. Animals of all shapes and sizes moved round me. They sense a kill is on the cards. “You’re all knobends!” I shouted to the animal kingdom, but still they circled me. Hares and squirrels and all sorts of furry evil buggers. I kept moving, walking until I was sure the skin on my feet would need to be moisturised. Suddenly, I remembered my iPhone! It was in my pocket! I pulled it out and looked. Useless. I don’t know if it was the delirium or the fact that I had recently changed the clock to 24hours but I couldn’t make heads nor tails of it. Must be the delirium. Time has lost all meaning. I also had about 34 new Follower requests on Instagram but thought it would be better to deal with that later. When I figured out WTF time was up to.
I came to a clearing and after calling Nyree’s name for a few seconds, I slumped down. The water that tasted strangely of whiskey had left a sour taste in my mouth and I had a splitting headache. This is it. Death. As I was about to lie down in a casual pose that would make me look cool when found a few weeks from now, I noticed a man sitting on some grass, with his legs crossed like some Yoga dude. I shouted for him to help me. He didn’t respond. I shouted again. He looked up and slowly came to his feet and began walking over. He levitated or so it seemed. His feet not touching the ground and dressed head to toe in white. This is it, I thought. He is God and I’m dying. I knelt down before him. Delerious. Barefoot. Sweating. Du’lamois nautical tanktop still intact thank god. Or should I say, thank this guy right before me. And so when he reached me I did.
Brian: Thanks God.
God: Sorry.
Brian: Thanks for saving my Du’Lamois nautical tanktop.
God: What do you mean?
Brian: You’re such a joker God. Take me with you, for I am ready. I came, I hipped, I tried passionately to eat vegan and now it is my time to leave this planet and I accept it. With all the peacefulness of a Jedi.
God: Whats wrong with you? Are you Ok?!
Brian: No God I’m not OK thanks for asking. I’m too fashionable for this mortal coil. I’m too cool. Although not now. Now I’m quite delirious and thirsty and starving. Let’s blow this shiz.
God: Hang on mate.
And with that he ran away. Why in the name of himself was he running away? Well that’s great, seriously. Meet the big man at death’s door and he turns out to be a total douche. And the white does nothing for him. Looks even more like Casper than me. At this revelation I heard Nyree’s voice calling my name. Is Nyree dead too? Maybe she could flirt with Gasper (God and Casper) and get him to send us back to Earth. Maybe she could finally -
Nyree: Wake up!
Brian: Nyree? Is that you? You look like an angel...
Nyree: Why are you lying in the grass? You’ll ruin your Du’Lamois nautical tanktop.
Brian: Huh?
Nyree: Why didn’t you stay were I left you? I found a pair of scissors to cut the plastic.
What the hell was going on?! I was close to death I was sure of it. And now here I am, Nyree standing over me without a care in the world and none of this making sense. I feel like that perpetual seven year old looking Leo DiCaprio guy from the film Inception. With Nyree’s help I stood up and noticed something. It was about 20 feet away. It rocked my world.
Brian: Is that Glendalough car park?
Nyree: Yeah, we only walked for about 5 minutes. I was on my way back to get you when this old guy came over saying “your friend is acting funny, check on him”.
Brian: Gasper is nice like that.
Nyree: And that we should be ashamed of ourselves for being drunk in a beautiful family place like this. Did you drink my second whiskey bottle?
Brian: I thought it was water. Totes soz.
While Nyree was kneeling down to cut the plastic off my ankle I spotted Gasper with his elderly wife having a picnic on the grass. It just doesn't make sense though, why is he still in white? Maybe Nyree is part of the dream and I’m in Inception? Or maybe Gasper is God and I’m in hell? But in this hell the one person you care about the most doesn’t believe you and gives out to you 24/7 for the rest of eternity?
Brian: Wait! Hold on a second. If what you’re saying is true Nyree then why is he dressed head to toe in white?
Nyree: He’s dressed head to toe in Penny’s. C’mon, you know when you see unfashionable clothes on people you try block it out for the state of your mental health. Which means they usually appear to be dressed in white. It’s a mechanism you’ve developed to combat bad fashion.
Brian: Oh yeah. Good call.
The plastic was cut off my ankle. I was finally free. Relief and... wait...
And just like that I threw up all over my Du’lamois nuatical tanktop. A mixture of whiskey, cinnamon and the remnants of yesterdays blue cheese crackers with banoffi coffee. Nyree patted my back, she’s sound like that.
Brian: (Sobbing) I’m a fashion fail.
Nyree: You’re not. Nature just bet you but don’t take it to heart, Mother Nature’s an asshole. Like seriously.
Brian: Thanks bessie.
Nyree: Let’s go get some more whiskey.
Brian: Good plan! I’ll get a new Du’lamois nuatical tanktop as well.
And as the afternoon came in, Nyree and I hopped on our fixies and left the family orientated Glendalough for the familiar pastures of Dublin city centre. We got three bottles of whiskey, a bag of tobacco, two Vegan milkshakes and a bag of horse feed cause we’re bad ass like that. We arrived back in the apartment, hit the roof garden and began digging into our shopping. I didn’t give Anved the extra bottle of whiskey, partly because he was right about me being defeated by Mother Nature but mostly because I wanted to pour some on the floor for all the ‘fallin homies’ that nature has claimed over the years. And that was a lot. In fact, a whole bottle’s worth. We smoked cigarettes listening to some Fran Bell poetry on audio tape, approved the 34 following requests on Instagram, tried on my new Du’lamois nuatical tanktop and all the while, couldn’t shake the feeling that Mother Nature, even in the Irish Wild or anywhere on Earth, was a total bitch. A bitch who shops in TK Maxx.
The Carnival guy was a funny shot, the person was dressed like a bushman, had a Polaroid camera, smoked [I believe] Rothmans cigarettes and looked really cross.
About 12-13 years ago a widely read Russian newspaper, Argumenti i fakti (Arguments and facts) held a photo competition the winner of which was to be a photo of the newspaper being read in the most unlikely spot. This guy in Burj-al -Arab hotel in Dubai was not something extraordinary for Russians and the photo did not win.
On first day in Venice, Hasmik and I saw these guitar players on Saint Marco plazza and the impression was that we were watching a Western or a film on Mexico.
I just like the shot and her cheerful looks.
They did not pay attention and I did not ask. It would have been a shame to distract them.
If the boss wants to do something, many people oblige....
Speakers' Corner, Hyde Park, London. The most 'un-bothered' performers of everywhere.
Speak soon hombres!
Nyree & Brian
Hipsters we met and liked
"Whatev's, we're over it."
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