DINGLE, CO.KERRY        14th – 16th SEPTEMBER 2000

 

Group 1-staying at Milestone, Milltown

Car 1 – Tim, Neil, Brackers                              Ferry

Car 2 - Graham, Shaun, Paul Boss                    Ferry

Car 3 - Crustie, JC, DC                                   Flight

Group 2 – staying at Radhan House, Ladies Cross

Car 4 - Me, Steve (Pedro), Joe, Spike             Flight

 

This years trip didn’t have the Swiss family Robinson’s parrot which had kept JC awake on the previous years jaunt to Bantry, so the position was ably taken up by Pedro who started practising months before the trip asking ‘Are we sorted then? do we know what the arrangements are? Are we sorted then, What time’s the flight, Are we sorted then? What time’s the taxi picking us up? Are we sorted then?…………..  The 14th couldn’t come soon enough!

 

Departure day

The lads (cars 3 and 4) met at the airport full of excitement and expectation.  Pedro asked if we were on time.  However, despite all the planning and preparation, no one could have foreseen the length of the impending delay. The flight was delayed, not just 1 hour but around 4-5 hours, half a days drinking had been lost.  A general fuel shortage had been threatened in England.  Joe was quick to point out that our delay was probably due to the fact that the Irish airline staff didn’t know the difference between petrol and paraffin whereas he knew that there was 2 f’s in paraffin and that there was no f in petrol.  At least refreshment vouchers were issued to keep us going. After a hearty breakfast we sat down for a further wait generally chatting and mixing together, except for Crustie who sat alone composing lyrics for his next album.  Finally the flight was called and everyone, well everyone except for Joe and Spike who had gone for a walkabout, made there way to the departure gate.  At last we were on the plane.  JC managed to get a seat next to the emergency exit door, with plenty of leg room.  Gazing to his right he noticed a ‘pratt’ of an engine and wished he had kept his eyes on the floor.

 

Up in the air and Spike began his quest to get a Supersonic bang; asking a young wench in the seat in front to ‘choose her weapon’.  Failing on that one he then pestered the stewardess to bend over while he removed a thread of cotton from her skirt which was annoying him.  A likely story.

The snacks were distributed and as always Roy began the ‘I bet I can eat more yoghurts than you’ challenge, but failed miserably when he could only get through two.  At least this year he didn’t throw up!  Dave C began experiencing turbulence, I know the feeling.  The de-icer came out in Cork, the doors finally opened and we were released.

 

Collecting the cars was a doddle, or so it should have been. A ‘blonde tart’ (as she was later described) pushed in at the collection desk attempting to arrange a quick change over.  It appeared to upset Spike who demanded a plane to take him back home.  Graham’s car was registered V…ERE.  What can you say?

 

The wacky races began.  Me leading, with Roy Schumacher  ‘chunner chunner’  ‘where’s your right foot?’ taking up the rear.  A quick pint at the Mills Bar at Bally Vourney ensued before meeting up with the rest of the ferried lads at Tralee.  Continuing towards the Conner Pass, Graham veered to avoid mowing down cows and later felt sheepish as he recalled having visited the area on 4 previous occasions but still conner remember it.  Poor organisation by Tim meant we were in 2 separate digs (Joe told me to put that in!).  A stroll down to the town to the first pub on the front and all was good.


 

Pedro was sharing a room with Joe.  The fear of a fate worse than death, using only the threat of a bag of sugar, kept Joe awake all night and gave Pedro the most peaceful night he’d ever had.  Only the faint distant sound of Keith Phillips snoring back in England could be detected.

 

 

1st full day

The b & b’s wouldn’t make up any packed lunches for us (poor organisational skills again!).  So a gathering of the clan in the local spar cleared out the sarnys.

 

 

 

The 3 sisters were beckoning.  A stop off en-route to see where the filming of Ryan’s daughter was made before the pull up to the cliff edges of the 3 sisters.  With the wind whistling through Joe’s hair, he felt like a bird.  Crustie’s blue muffin receipt took flight instead.  Pedro kept some 500metres away from the cliff edge, clutching and squeezing every boulder and stone he could find for support.  It has been heard that share prices in the 3 sisters sand and gravel pit company are now outperforming the footsie.

 

After we’d all had our share of the sisters we strolled back through the fairways and greens of the local golf course.  The 2 groups went their separate ways back to the digs.  A quick stop for a pint of black gold at Bally Ferriter on the way back saw Spike throwing a paddy over the map.

 

Drinking was heavy the first evening.  Crustie at first declined a guinness drinking contest but later modified the challenge to ‘who could drink the fastest 8th pint!’.  The Kentucky Fried fish shop satisfied our hungers.  A few la la’s resounded in the bars.  Crustie supported a group of singers whilst Shaun and Joe later needed support to get back to the digs. 

The crawl back to the digs (which incidentally is always only a five minute stroll out of the town) was a nightmare.  No street lights, the wee scottie dog snapping at JC’s heals, and Spike playing dodgems with the traffic, also being supported by Steve and Joe.

Trying not to wake the rest of the house, a bedtime brew was made.  Pedro heard the giggling and came down to see if Joe was up, he was turning into a paddy? ‘A fecking great breakfast’ had been scrawled inside the visitor’s book, oh god.  An hour later the comment had been disguised and all was well!!??  It was all too much for Pedro so he took a 5 minute nap.

 

 


 

2nd full day

The Stafford lads sailed off to the Blaskett islands, watched dolphins and seals on the beaches and ate their lunches in the clouds, clearing away their own food wrappers and litter.  The excitement got too much for John who got caught short; not for the first time!

 

The Grahams played golf.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hoping to clear his head, Spike headed for the beach and took an early morning paddle.  (ijot).  He failed.  A short stroll around the town in the hope of catching the breakaway group also did little to clear his head.  We played a game of ‘spot the wreck’ for a short while until driving up to the Conner Pass followed by a delightful walk along the Dingle Way with Spike in tow, gradually coming to.  An old farmer with blackened gums beckoned us to him for the crack before we moved on to avoid his ferocious dogs.

 

We visited at least 2 pubs.  Dick Macs (with the famous names set in the paving outside), and the ironmongers in the main street, complete with spontaneous songs from a local farmer supported by the bar.  There aren’t many pubs you can call into and order 10 pints of guinness and a packet of screws.  We left before we were asked to give a song.

 

 

 

Return

A proposed gentle drive back to the airport was changed when a temporary diversion to Blarney Castle was included so that Spike could treat his wife.  Short of a stone or two, Joe admitted he must have had too much guinness as he swore we should have passed a shop he knew en route.  A needless rush to the airport followed as sadly the flight was delayed yet again.

 

After returning to the airport in England, the lads in the minibus patiently waited for a few minutes whilst I attempted to exchange a bottle of body lotion for my beloved.  Not a bad swop!  (No I don’t mean it!!)