We went to visit the last king of Ireland. It was a strange journey. The king fulminated against the sea, the bartender lay drunk under the table. And the hotel door was constantly locked. And then there was some talk of something being covered in blood.

Strange people in Ireland

And we? We barely survived the sea. The photographer wanted leave instantly. Tory island was not for ordinary people like us. that much was clear. But to leave meant braving the sea.

Text: Anneke de Bundel – Images: Nicole Franken