Blogtrotter

Tagann ar ais gCeanada, cuid a h-aon.

Tháinig mé as Thoronto Dé Luain ar mhean oiche. Inné, chaith mé ag obair. Bhí me tuirseach ann, ar ndóigh. Bhí mé gnóthach freisin ann. Mar sin, níor thug seans a cur suas alt anseo. Inniu, scríobhann mé alt béag. Inseoidh agaibh faoi mo chuairt ansuid.

Bhí te agam ann. Tá samraidh níos tais i gCeanada. Shoilsíonn grian níos cumhachtach. Shroichim ar an áit; iarraigh mé hata. Cheannaigh mé caipín gorm go halainn nuair chríochnaigh mé a chlárú ar an comhdháil oideachais Leann Bhreatnais ann. Is maith liom é. Tá caipín agam go bhfuil air comharta níos seanaimseartha agus as cleachtadh na hOllscoil. Tá crann air agus a mana: "Velut arbor aevo" i Laidin. Is cosúil le é go cuanna chomh na bunchampas. Anois, mar sin féin, tá meascán na Ollscoil. Éiríonn sé measctha na foirgneoireachtaí ghruannaí agus maorgaí.

Tá cosulacht leis na cathair féin go direach. D'fhan Léna agus mé ina sean-teach. Thóg é ina 1902. Is mian liom a cónaímh in áit chósula. Tá sé thar a bheith furasta! Rinneamar stádar sa chomharsanacht go minic. Shiúilamar ar an siopaí leabhair. D'ith muid ar an bialann Nheipelais. D'oscail druglann níos luath; fuaireamar bainne, brioscaí, agus rísínnaí ann. Ach, níl raibh sé ag dúnta beoir nó fíon ann!

Thiomaint muid a tri aiteannaí ar feadh tri láethanta. Ar dtosach, chuaigh ar an Naomh Sítae. Tá ceantar Meinonítaigh ann. Dhíol feirmeoirí ar an margadh mór ann. Líon ár malaí leis aran agus silíní. Chuir cuairt muid ar an iarsmalann faoi Meinonítaigh. D'fhoglaim muid go leor ann. Ansin, d'imigh muid ar an gcathaoir na hÁth Shraid agus na abhainn "Abhainn"! D'ól mé ar an teach tabhairne Bheintleigh "Leann Chuimhneachán" le Robaird Mac Simoin. Is ól go blasta!

Chonaic muid leacht bronach ina dhiadh sin. In aice leis an claddagh, staid leacht. Léigh mé ainmneachaí ann. Líonann sé leis comhaireamhaí na dtaismeachái is mo na gCogadh Domhanda Céad. Níl baile mór fós anois. Mheasaim faoi suim na fír óg céad bliana go ham seo ansiud. Ghol mé beagán. Shúil Léna ag dulta ar aghaidh. D'fhág sí an cloch agus an brat. Bhain sí féin dó. Bhí sí ag imeacht a feichthe ealaí ar an bruach. Is cuimhne liom ar ball na scéal faoi "Na Paísti Lhír."

Coming back from Canada, part one.

I came back from Toronto Monday at midnight. Yesterday, I had to work. I was tired, of course. I was busy too. Therefore, I did not get a chance to put an entry up here. Today, I write a short entry. I will tell you all about my visit over there.

It was hot there. The summer's more humid in Canada. The sun shone more powerfully. I arrived at the place; I wanted a hat. I bought a lovely little blue cap when I finished registering for the Welsh Studies educational conference there. I liked it. My little cap was with the more old-fashioned, obsolete emblem of the University. There's a tree on it and its slogan: "As a tree with the passage of time" in Latin. It's similar to the charm of the original campus. Now, however, the University's a mixture. There rises up a blend of buildings ugly and elegant.

The city itself is exactly the same. Layne and I stayed in an old house. It was built in 1902. I wish to live in a similar place. It is perfect simplicity! We made strolls in the neighborhood often. We walked to bookshops. We ate at a Nepalese restaurant. The drugstore was open much later; we found milk, cookies, and raisins there. But, there was not sold beer or wine!

We drove to three places during three days. First, we went to St. Jacob's. It is a Mennonite district there. Farmers sold at a great market there. We filled our bags with bread and cherries. We paid a visit to the museum about Mennonites. We learned a lot there. Then, we left for the town of Stratford and the river "Avon" [pun in Irish as the word's equivalent.] I drank at Bentley's tavern a "Commemoration Ale" from Robert Simpson's. It's a tasty drink!

We saw a sad monument afterwards. Next to the shore, a (commemorative) stone stands. I read names there. It is filled with many, many casualties of the First World War. The town is not large even today. I thought about the amount of young men around there a hundred years ago. I cried a little. Layne walked on in front. She left the stone and the flag. She went off herself. She was going off to look at swans on the river-bank. I remember presently the story about "The Children of Lir."

Mo Ghriangraf/My Photo-- Stratford, Ontario, War Memorial. Designed by Walter Allward.