Lismore is a scene straight out of New Orleans.
Houses on stilts, balconies all around the 1st floor and beige and faded pink buildings that reminds you of the Wild West.
We spent today relaxing into the spring heat and touring around the anquities. We took respite from the sun in the local museum, which is located in a building that wouldn’t look out of place in a Cuban political centre.
My favourite part of the museum on display was, of course, the old school castration instruments. I can hear the blacksmith giggling to himself laughing even now. Bernard, for some odd reason, was more fascinated by the model ship on display. In fairness, it was a beautiful piece of craft.
Along with pianos with ivory keys and weapons now dull enough to rock a coke addict to sleep, there was walls of aboriginal art and a recognition of the beauty, history and tragedy of the culture, a natural education on the local flora and fauna and geological samples from millenia prior.
I was surprised at the variety and the history of some of the artefacts, considering small town UK museums usually charge you £5 to look at an old picture of the town and relive the historic visit of the Queen’s second cousin twice removed.
After a grueling afternoon, we spent the evening with another frequenter of Camp Davey to play some music and drink coffee. The acoustic guitars were tuned up to a harmonica that I have no idea how to play and we created beautiful sounds of 100 cats trying to get out of a sleeper hold.
Nevertheless we had a great night of music making, and Bernard even threw in a rendition of “Get Lucky” which was an absolute pleasure to listen to. He also cracked out “Wake Me Up” by Avicii. It won’t be long until I get him bellowing along to Alter Bridge.
For now, I must rest as it has been a productive and creative day. Tomorrow we will work our way to more music and fellow eccentrics- more soon.
Thanks for reading!
Goodbye my Colney Island baaaaabe
SC : jamesinaus