Todd and I walked from Portrush to Causeway Coast in the middle of October. It took us about two and a half hours one-way, and we arrived at 6 o'clock in the evening. We saw the limestone shoots, I took two pictures only for fear that my camera battery was going to wear out, and he took 14. Climbing on the rocks felt like climbing up, down, and around a giant vault of hidden treasure. When we were done, we walked the km back to the gates and towards the bus stop. As we saw the last bus had already left, the dusk was turning to twilight, and the twilight was turning to dark. One car came every 5 minutes, with its headlights on, not slowing down and especially not stopping for us.

We did not want to walk the entire way back. We wouldn't get back until 9 if we did. It felt later because the sun set earlier. We were taking a diffetent way back because Todd said he knew where he was going.

Todd was from Winnipeg. He was a tatoo artist and was biking around the entire perimeter of Ireland for the month of October. He wore the same pair of pants for 3 weeks withour washing them-- the only pair he'd brought. Nobody cared one bit (they were all doing it too). He didn't want to bring much because he had to carry it all on his bike. But he brought his sketchbook with him, and when he got bored, he would draw. He'd usually end up tearing out his work the morning before he left hostels and give them to the owners, who would oo and ah over it. He showed me the design he had drawn in color pencil for his next tatoo. It was a red heart, with blue fames behind it, measuring about 5 inches across, with "HOPE" written in the middle of it, and he was going to put it on his left forearm. He had been working on some guy's back before he left Winnipeg. "What about my back?!" the guy said after Todd told him he was going to leave for the month. "Relax. Just wait till I get back." The guy growled.

Todd enjoyed backpacking through the Rocky mountains in drag with his friends, and saying hello to other backpackers he saw along the way, eyeliner and everything. He liked the confused stares.

We were walking for an hour. Todd stopped.

"Is this right?" I said.

"I don't know. I think so." We walked a little more.

"Yeah, I recognize this part."

We walked a while more.

"God, my knee's fucked up."

"What's the matter?"

"I've been biking all this time and I haven't been using my knee like you do when you walk. Now it's just screwed up."

"Well just say if you need to stop. It's no big deal. You don't want to fuck up your knee when you've got to bike all the way around back down to Dublin."

There was a bench.

"Alright, I've got to stop."

We sat. I told him how to find the North Star. It was a clear night, but you couldn't see anything. He started talking about his ex-girlfriend.

"She was a fucking-- a bitch. She'd always come over and she was all concerned with being successful and shit. She'd tell me what a shitty life I had and I wasn't going anywhere and she was always all judging me. After I broke up with her I saw her on the street, and she said something like "what the hell are you doing, Todd?" or some shit, and I just said "You know, you are the worst person I have ever met, and I hope I never, ever meet anyone else like you again in my life. So fuck you, and get the fuck out of here. I don't ever want to see you again." He started laughing.

"What'd she do?"

"She started crying or something. I felt so good, though. She always was taking advantage of me and putting me down. She was an unhappy person. I was just like 'Fuck you.'"

Todd had just turned 30. He was starting to bald, and he wore a bandana and black-rimmed glasses. His eyebrow was pierced. Him and his friend would give each other tatoos when they were bored.

We sat there for a while, and talked about what it takes to be an asshole, and people who judge. I told him about Alan's little sister who asked me if I was a bum who didn't want to go to college when I told her I was going to Europe for 3 months. He asked how old she was, and I said 15, and he thought it was funny.

We decided as long as you're having a good time, fuck everything else. We decided he was having a better time that his ex-girlfriend. He was biking around Ireland for a month and giving people tatoos, and she was crying and working in some office.

We walked down that path some more and talked about independance. His knee started hurting worse, to the point where he had to sit down on the road. It was raining out, windy, and 7 degrees. He was limping really bad, and finally we went into a fancy hotel-- the one building with lights on for the entire 3 hour walk. We got them to call a cab. We sat for a half hour, barely talking, in the golden lounge on puffy living room chairs with a round glass table in between. The cab came, I sat in back and Todd made small talk with the driver, "Busy night?"

We got back, and Todd layed down for an hour. We went to the pub with the hostel owners, a small Scottish woman with long hair and an Irish 40 year old man who liked black leather and rock 'n roll, and the one other lady who was staying there.

We got back at one and went to bed. It was dark and silent, and from the other side of the room, Todd said "I'm glad you were here. I didn't think you would be here because I took 4 days in Donegal, but I'm glad you were here." I told him I was glad too. It was a good town.

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