Belfast, Northern Ireland
Thursday 18 April 1996
....Cork was like the West Virginia of Ireland, straight up and down, row upon row of buildings. We stayed at Kent House, where our hostess was Margery, a very loud woman, big framed and very friendly but on a scedual. My room was a foot higher at one end than the other, the place was at least 120 years old. When heavy trucks passed the whole place shook. We ate at a pizza place, which was alful. Sunday night, or the first night there anyway, I went out, down the main shopping district , crossing the Lee on the Patrick Bridge. Gave 20p to a bumb with a cup out. There were 20 year olds everywhere, being kids, getting drunk out in public, Their names were written on the walls everywhere, first & last. I went into Corrigan's Bar on an alley & had a couple of pints o' Murphy's with an Irish soldier named Sammy who I could hardly understand. He & the others were all Manchester fans, Manchester was playing Leeds & the Leeds fans left because it was a taped game and they already knew they had lost. I deceided the language spoken in Cork is Engalelish. I understand very little. .....
