So being away in that place sometimes referred to as Eire (depending on how political you want to get) I discovered that although it has a definite benefit to my progress in photography, it also has a habit of filling your inbox with junk.

I haven't touched (let alone seen) a computer in a week, which has probably proved very good for me as this is the first time in at least a year I have been able to take such a long term break (relatively speaking). Now that's all over I'm back in the thick of it; sitting in a quagmire of communiques. Incidentally, if you left a voicemail for me earlier this week, I didn't get it, so please try again.

I've come back with a fantastic array of memories and the like, most documented on digital which you can see the raw versions here under 2005 > Ballycotton Ireland. I have been very impressed with this set - an impressive 130 photos came back of a least some quality and I think I am making progress with the one-shot wonder technique. My camera is the only thing holding me back now (even if it has surpassed itself once again).

One of the most memorable things for me on this (the fourth) journey over the Irish Sea was how impressed I was with 'the service' at the restaurants and cafes we ate at. There is something about those Irish waitresses that is just a bit too irresistible. Anybody who says it's just the accent is wrong; you don't tend to only pay attention to the way they talk.

The break also allowed me to do one thing I never do and that is immerse myself in a sport. I watched the third test with the Father and got quite excited as the tension mounted. For someone who has never watched cricket before, it was something of a steep learning curve, but an enjoyable one anyway, watching what looked like the decline of the mythical Ozzies. Turns out we all had a nasty trick played on us, but it doesn't matter. I'm enjoying the game more now that when I first arrived at secondary school, was kitted up with two 'essential' sets of whites, only to attend the first practise and be sidelined to play something that didn't require so much coordination like sitting still or something similar.

We stayed in a little place called Ballycotton (Baile Choitin) near Cork on the south-west coast. This was out third visit to this sleepy fishing town where The Mother used to spend her childhood holidays while her father visited people he had known from before the war. I didn't actually realise it until this visit, but the reason my family started going there (back in the 1930s) was mainly because that's where a bit of my family is from. You learn something new.

Tomorrow I have a meeting with the Old Ed Club at 2.30pm which I am really unsure what exactly I can do to prepare as I don't have anyway of bringing the site to them digitally, so look like I will be printing out things tomorrow morning. Later I'm planning to meet up with Adam for a drink as I've not seen him since he started uni last September. Jesus, that's a bloody long time.

I have this foreboding feeling I'm going to be spending what free time I have tomorrow and Thursday on the phone and emailing people. Back in the hotseat for one last week before James and Andy hit California...