I had often spent a day walking with John Synge, but a year or two ago I travelled for a month alone through the west of Ireland with him. He was the best companion for a roadway any one could have, always ready and always the same; a bold walker, up hill and down dale, in the hot sun and the pelting rain. I remember a deluge on the Erris Peninsula, where we lay among the sand hills and at his suggestion heaped sand upon ourselves to try and keep dry.
KeywordsSand Hill Hard Road Macmillan Publisher Wild Thing Prose Work
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- 1.See J. M. Synge, ‘At a Wicklow Fair: The Place and the People’, Manchester Guardian (9 May 1907) p. 12.Google Scholar