So part of the move here to this western edge of Ireland was so I could walk more. It’s not like I’m an insane walker but – as I’m sure all the writers here will agree – sitting down for hours writing is not a great way for your body to spend its time.

And it’s not brilliant for the head either.

I need a neurologist here. Help me out. Is there a reason why not writing is such a useful part of the writing process? I’ve found out, time after time, that leaving the keyboard and doing something where the brain works in different ways is great when you’re writing, because when you sit back down again, you always see the book in a slightly different way. That conversation you were writing that was lumpy and awkward suddenly finds a new flow. That background character steps forward and says something invaluable. And so on.

Anyone else find this?

Anyway. This is yesterday’s walk, up the side of Seefin, which I can see from my window. There are several Seefin’s in Ireland, literally the Seat of Fionn – the legendary leader and poet Fionn mac Cumhaill.

You trip over legends around here. From Seefin you look down at Rossbeigh Strand, which is where Oisin and Niamh rode their horses to the land of Sir Na nÓg when Niamh’s father was displeased with her choice of lover.

So you’re kind of walking into stories wherever you go here anyway. Here’s a stream I crossed on yesterday’s walk:

In January, I moved to Ireland. Well, I’m living here for over half the year and then heading back to Brighton and my Devon writing shack in the bits between.

I’ve been here over a month now and it’s quiet round here in winter. I’ve slid into a great routine of starting writing at about 8am-8.30am and carrying on until after lunch when I head out for a walk. While I love Brighton, there’s no opportunity there of being able to head straight out of my door into this kind of countryside. And walking is kind of essential when I spend so much time sitting and staring at a screen.

In one week’s time we leave for Ireland, knowing how lucky I am to be able to slip from one country to another. My father was born in Belfast. I have an Irish passport. Jane is London Irish, her parents from Kerry and Sligo so it’s a pretty easy move for us.

I am hoping to become resident there. It means I’ll be spending the most of the year in Kerry, but will be back in England regularly for book stuff and more. Our kids are here, for starters.

There are all sorts of reason to go there, but the first one is that I can. I am lucky. Kerry is a beautiful place. If you do any work at a screen, the temptation is to stay fixed to it, nailed to a chair. I’m hoping that that is harder when surrounded by such amazing scenery.

The second is that Ireland is doing so much better than the UK in many ways. This would have been a shock to my father’s family, Armagh Protestants who were always snobs about the Papist south.

Ireland seems to have an optimism about itself that’s infectious. And, most importantly, it gives a shit about the arts. I’ll be honest, that’s part of the attraction too. Ireland’s tax exemption for artists means I don’t pay tax on the first €50,000 of my income from books. It’s a shockingly simple idea – and one that’s incredibly cheap for the government too. After all, most artists earn laughably low amounts of money. At minimal costs, Ireland gets to nurture generations of creative people – which is something the UK used to be pretty good at. Last year Ireland began trialling a Basic Income for Artists, offering 2,000 people in the creative industries a basic income for three years to develop their practice. In a country with a population of five million, that’s a pretty bold move.

So anyway, next week I’ll be plugging in my computer into a desk in a house close to the Kerry coast. It’s a pretty remote place and the village we’re heading for is pretty dead in the winter, so it’ll be a challenge. Maybe in a year I’ll be back with my tail between my legs. I don’t know. But I’m excited. I’ll send pictures.

Steve, Los Angeles. “My favorite t-shirt was a New Yorker Dog t-shirt I had back the ‘70’s. It was a black lined angst ridden dog sitting with its tail sort of wagging, could be nerves, on a white t-shirt. Got the shirt my final year at University, and it was taken from me at a laundromat dryer one day in 1979. Remember it to this day and I still miss it.”

Eleanor. ‘My favourite tee-shirt is pink and showing picture of Ernest Hemingway at Sloppy Joe’s bar. I bought it in Key West, Florida in 1988! Still going strong!’

Tim. “Years ago (when dead sea was only sick) I used to test ride mountain bikes from a place called Llanwrytd Wells. The bike centre ran a ‘thing’ called ‘The green secret’ which promoted the ‘green’ element of mountain bikes, Welsh mountains/fells and the environment (bear in mind this was early 80’s). This tee shirt saw me through mountain biking, fell walking, hiking through the Pyrennean high route, 100km walking, marriage, six kids and eventually ‘died’ when it’s consistency became finer than the Turin shroud…. I miss it but still have the joyous memories of our adventures.”

Sarah. “The most favourite t-shirt I have ever owned: Year was 1995, I bought a Levellers T-shirt when I got one of my first jobs. I was at college and was about 17. Its a funky purple tie dye oversized top with The Levellers logo on it. I got my Dad listening to The Levellers (as he got me obsessed with The Beatles) so when I moved out and had my son, I thought I should start dressing more respectably and gave the top to my Dad. Dad wore it for years, along with a couple of others I gave him. When he died in 2021 and we emptied his house, I found the T-Shirt still in his wardrobe.
I washed it and started wearing it again. It’s about 28 years old and is back in my T-Shirt drawer.”

Alison. “My favourite T-shirt which I’ve ever owned is a turquoise blue one with a transfer of Roobarb and Custard on (a 1970s cartoon). I owned it when I was 10 years old and still have it! Sadly it hasn’t fitted for many decades!”

Monika. “My favorite t-shirt is the Sandinista one that my mother brought home for me from Nicaragua in the 80’s when she went there for Witness of Peace.’

Linda. “The favourite t-shirt I ever owned was a Stone Roses one, signed by the whole band, who we bumped into the morning after a gig at Glasgow Green in 1990 as they were staying at a hotel beside our flat. I gave it to my daughter as she was going to see them in the same place exactly 20 years later, and of course she wore it (I’d taken exceptionally good care of it!)”

Elaine. ‘The t-shirt I bought on my first and only trip to New York. It went on for years, despite shrinking in the washing machine and being handed down to my daughter!!’

Bubbles. ‘My favorite T shirt is a Portland Art Museum T shirt from the 1970’s. It’s a black and white picture (on a white T shirt) of a modern statue (of a primitive female “earth mother”.) In front of the statue we see a man with a raincoat on, his back turned to us. Caption: Expose yourself to Art.’

Mike. “As a 15-year-old Mod in ’64 I caught the train to Brighton where I bought a white t-shirt with a target motif. It was the latest and coolest fashion and I was the first Mod in our small Sussex town to wear one . For two days I was the local “ace face”, and put the t-shirt in the washing machine.
My favourite t-shirt came out misshapen with the target motif resembling Dali’s ‘Melting Clock’. It may have been cheap and shoddy, but for a short and wonderful time that t-shirt made me feel on top of the World.”

Scott. “My favourite T-shirt I’ve ever owned was a Page & Plant T-shirt bought during their 1995 World Tour, when I saw them at the SECC in Glasgow – the T-shirt is long-gone, but the memories of an excellent concert remain: The Black Crowes as support band; me “sat” (was a seated gig, but everyone was up and dancing!) five rows from the front; seeing my music heroes performing Led Zeppelin songs live.”

Sophie. “When I was about 13yrs old a new “Shopping Mall” was built in Norwich.  We’d only seen Mall’s in American TV Sitcoms here in Norfolk so you can imagine it was a hot topic.  Glossy marble floors, brightly lit clean and exciting clothes shops, even a Disney Store… amazing!! As part of the grand opening, they had invited all kinds of entertainment and various minor TV personalities.  One of these events was an audition to be on a “Chicken Tonight” advert… well you can imagine our excitement. Myself and my two best friends Rachael & Alice, queued up for 4 hours with the “I feel like Chicken Tonight… like Chicken Tonight..!!” Theme going round and round on a loop as other hopefuls did a dance in front of the bright lights and camera.  The grand prize was to be included on a TV advert, but the real reason I was queuing up was to receive the free t-shirt they were giving out to all hopefuls!! A 90’s style baggy white t-shirt with a bright yellow orange and green chicken on the front.  Well I got my Chicken Tonight t-shirt and I lived and slept in it for years!!  I absolutely loved that thing and I was ridiculously proud of it, despite never appearing on a Chicken Tonight advert… and rather ironically.. having never even tried Chicken Tonight!!”

Lorraine. “My outstanding t-shirt memory was a Star Trek one that I had for years – wore it all the time and eventually it fell apart. Original series with a picture of the Enterprise and the serial number down the side. NCC-1701-C. And I’m not feeling sad at all that I can remember that!’

Martin. ‘Once upon a time I was fortunate enough to be living and working in Manhattan. It was New Year’s Eve 1999 and I had been lucky enough to secure tickets for Patti Smith and her band at the Bowery Ballroom. I went, saw the show, bought the t-shirt – which was mostly Blakean in its representation – and she signed it. I wore it until it became a state health hazard and then had it framed.”

Katy. “My best t-shirt is a green Harley Davidson one. A colleague at work in the 1980s went home t Milwaukee. She picked it up and it has lasted ever since. My daughter wears it sometimes and my grandkids will wear it when they are taller.”

Antonia. “My favourite was one I had as a teenager – a giant white one with a few buttons down the front. When it was no longer white, I tie-dyed it purple, tying circles in it with string. I cut my finger removing the string. I wore it for many years. I no longer have the t-shirt, but I still have the scar where I cut my finger.”