Sunny days, haggis and theatre at lunchtime - life is good

Ah, what lovely weather. I was just walking down Quay Street, feeling like all was for the best in the best of all possible worlds. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, McDonagh's were selling haggis.  

Wait, what? But it's true. Galway's famous seafood eatery prominently advertises deep-fried sheep's guts. That's like a restaurant serving Szechuan chicken and mash, or Mexican spaghetti. Now I have a Scottish friend who thinks fried sheep's guts is fantastic – she gave up smoking recently so I guess she's looking for another way to risk her life – but I would be surprised if they're doing this just to cater for Galway's small Scots community. I think I know the real reason:Because tourists kept asking for it. Eventually McDonagh's got tired of explaining that they were in the wrong country and realised that it would be easier – and more lucrative – to just sell them the haggis.

One question remains though. Are the tourists merely confused about the difference between here and there – as in "those whiskey-drinking, bagpipe-playing, English-fighting people are all the same" – or do they actually think they're in Scotland? Galway, Galloway. It's an easy mistake when you look at it.

Speaking of the summer, it's nearly time to get run down by the festival train again.

Discussing the history of Cúirt in An Irishman's Diary in The Irish Times last Tuesday, Fred Johnston lamented how it and other celebrations of the arts in Galway have grown from little local festivals into highly professional, commercial events. It may seem churlish when you look at the impressive line-up Cúirt is bringing this year, but I can't help agreeing that something has been lost. Events on this scale attracting huge numbers of tourists may make commercial sense, but I'm not so sure they make cultural sense. Back when things were on a more moderate scale it seemed like a thriving art scene could only benefit the community. Yet instead it became commoditised as cultural tourism, even helped stoke the property speculation boom.

As Fred Johnston put it, "the hour of the cultural amateur died in the mid-1980s". Though I agree, I would take issue with the word amateur – chiefly because it has the implication of not getting paid, which is the exact opposite of what artists need to do art. Clearly though, it is not in the world of established organisations and professional "arts administration" (a contradiction in terms, surely) that the interesting stuff happens.

So I'm glad to see that the lunchtime theatre scene is making a comeback. Remember its heyday? Comedy in the King's Head, The Flying Pigs, Tommy Tiernan. Small-scale things like that really stimulate and sustain cultural creativity. Things that were forgotten in the boom years, when you didn't need any entertainment to pack a place at lunchtime.

Now Kelly's Bar are reviving the tradition. They've just hosted a show called A Wing And a Prayer, a beautiful piece of cast-created comedy in the guise of a FÁS scheme for vaudeville performers. It says a lot about Galway that a new company doing work of professional quality can materialise as if out of the woodwork. That show will be over by the time you read this, but the season in Kelly's continues for another two weeks. Check it out.