The Aran Islands

When I first landed in Ireland almost 2 months ago, my friends informed me that in late February they were taking me to a festival being held on the Aran island Inish Mor off the coast of Galway. They obviously promised that it would be a boozefest but not until later when I was more adequately informed did I realize that it would be one that was religious themed. As the product of Jesuit education and having a friend who is a Jesuit, I know that clergy and booze are usually not exclusive terms, so I guess I was not initially shocked by the itineriary.
TedFest, is a festival held by devout fans of a former sitcom in Ireland and the UK called Father Ted. A comedy about 3 disfunctional priests assigned to a parish on a practically uninhabited island, the show only ran for 3 seasons before the death of the show's main character Father Ted, although it still managed to garner a cult status and huge following. On its third year, the festival is run chalkfull of Father Ted themed parties taking place in one of the island's 4 or 5 pubs. With festival tickets limited at only 200, I tried to watch as many of the shows as I could prior to the weekend, lest I be revealed as an imposter at this gathering of followers whose zeal is a bit Star Trekkie combined with the imbibing eagerness of a frat pack. It takes alot to shock me these days, but my first taste of the coming experience occured at the dock prior to departing the Galway area for the island, when I passed a frocked "nun" carrying a case of beer who I overhead muttering "feckin' hell" apparently in reference to a forgotten item. She and the 200 people, myself and 3 friends included, dressed in clergy attire would soon descend on the island of around 850 people. Besides the benefiting merchants, I can only imagine how horriried much of the islanders are when their quiet island is taken over by 200 Guinness infused "clergypeople," who spend the day bicycling the island from bar to bar before converging on the one meeting hall for the nightly festivities. As probably the only non-Irish/British attendee, I managed to get myself interviewed by a film crew documenting the ridiculous affair. I may have told a little lie to the interviewer and stated that I came all the way from the States for this, but hey, I didn't have to look far for absolution for that tiny sin. Although I know Irish religious conservatism has relaxed a bit over the years, I was still surprised at the general acceptance of the mocking behavior occuring throughout the weekend. Enough for even this boy to blush a few times.

With the sparse accomodation available snathed up by attendees long ago, we were resigned to field camping, which in February in Ireland can be potentially dreadful. Luckily, besides a few rain showers, the weather and the festivities turned out well. The highlight of the weekend was probably watching the Ireland beat England in the Six Nations rugby match in a pub full of hysterical Irish fans.

Returned back to Belfast late Sunday night, just in time for my early morning flight home to the good old US of A. Between England and Inish Mor, I haven't slept well in the past week, but the promise of proper barbeque and endless reality TV show conversations will surely keep me chugging along.

Keep the faith,
Father Brian