Still and wet this morning, we languished with coffee and the papers. It cleared up this afternoon and we headed down to Farranamanagh Lough. So still, hard to see where the water stopped and the land begun. Two swans preened in the shallows and something was making large ripples further out. Very peaceful.

Last night's film - The Doctor's Sword  - was powerful and moving. A documentary based on a true story of how a Samuri sword ended up in a pub in Castletownbere.  It had been brought back by an Irish doctor who had served in the RAF during the Second World War. His experiences were horrific and almost unbelievable - he had survived Dunkirk, had been torpedoed, spent three years in a POW camp in Japan and finally had been moved to Nagasaki where a makekshift bomb shelter had saved his life after the atomic bomb had fallen. Presented in interviews with his two daughters, one who travelled to Japan, and footage of the time, Dr McCarthy came across as the most extraordinary man - compassionate, brave and forgiving, he somehow kept his goodness and kindness in the most horrendous circumstances. Like many men of his generation, he rarely talked about his wartime experiences. The film ought to go on general release but I'm not sure it will.