"Learning to live and living to learn"
Up in the northern reaches of Ireland’s fair isle, there is a wild and windswept hinterland, well known amongst the frenzied followers of the BBC’s shipping forecast, called Malin Head. If you have ever been lucky enough to visit, you will recall the jagged coastline, pebbled beaches and lush, green fields that play host to a close-knit community of people more rugged than the rocks round which the ragged rascal ran, (apologies for the overdose of alliteration, just couldn’t resist it!).
If you are a golfer, tired of the garishly gilded clubhouses and “easy-peasy”, 18-hole sprawls of Trump town where even my Nana could hit a hole-in-one; if you are a real, club-swinging aficionado who likes a challenge, then Malin Head awaits, to mark your card. You will need your windcheater and a stout pair of galoshes. You might as well leave your umbrella, ella, ella behind, for the wind that blows there, is a cruel mistress. Perhaps too, you should replace the grip on your clubs to accommodate a pair of Velcro gloves for, in Malin Head, the swinging of sand wedge and number 2 wood, is not for the faint-hearted.
And if you find yourself, in that part of the world, looking for advice and guidance on matters of import, seek out the wise council of a “rum ole cove” that goes by the name of Fabulous Finn. For he knows what he likes and he likes what he knows.
The "Fabster", as he is known to those who gather at his feet for council, is an unusual character to find in the windswept wilds of the Gael. Originating from the warmer climes of South America, Fab Finn, has become acclimatized to nature’s wrath, having dined, for many years, on a strict diet of western philosophy and natural bone broth, both of which keep the cranial fuel cells fully charged and ready for action.
Who is this mighty master of mindfulness, you may ask, who stands proudly dispensing his wisdom to the weary traveler on the road to enlightenment? Lily, (the dog who must be adored), tells me that it’s rumored he is one of her canine brethren, but who knows for sure? For if it is true, how could such a small head be home to so much wisdom? It’s "a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside and enigma", to quote the great Winston Churchill.
However, if you are ever up that way, ask around. Mention the name “Fabulous Finn” and gauge the reaction. If you are lucky enough to make contact with the sage of the Northern Gael, let me know, I’ll be waiting with anticipation for those pearls of wisdom.