Archive for October 26th, 2007

Day 1- Road to Nowhere

The boys have jobs and stuff and real lives so we don’t leave till after 5pm on Friday, joining the crowds of half-termers fleeing the family home for a small fiberglass box on wheels or a grim B&B on a cliff top.

The idea of weekends scares me sometimes. That you work all week and then spend two and a half days in celebration of freedom from your chosen occupation and then go straight back to it all on Monday. I have this thing against enforced, corporate happiness. That anybody can tell you how and when to be happy based on market and social demographics.

Maybe that just leaves me a grumpy old git who’s emotionally stunted and unable to relate to the majority of the population.

Maybe it just lets me think I’m better than everyone else.

Goodness such self-analysis and only three paragraphs in. Will endeavor to refrain from such.

The mighty Volvo is packed and loaded for the craic, even brought the guitar in the hope of some inspired sessions on a beach somewhere.

The boys (Jonny– who designs and engineers large green machines for separating rocks;

 

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and Sparks – who endeavors to teach young humanoids how to form words and sentences in a cohesive manner)

 

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seem intent on naming the poor car, as if it was somehow unhappy with its current moniker of car and Volvo 850. I’m all for personification of inanimate objects but I’m not sure they need a stereotypical fiddly-dee Irish name for that to happen. And I was never going to let Victor the Viagra fueled Volvo stick. Without putting up a bit of a fight anyhow.

As the west bound M1 petered out we made it through the wall of mizzle and cloud to see a glorious autumn sky and the sun setting. About as glorious as Ballygawley ever gets anyway.

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We got briefly lost in Sligo, thankfully not eaten by the natives before getting on the N15 (funny how planned and organized the roads sound when you give them a alphanumerical title, making a winding lane between farmhouses sound like a major communications artery) to Bundoran.

We’re staying in Mullaghmore, just north of Sligo in what I imagine would be some pretty spectacular scenery if it wasn’t raining and night time. Given that it nearly always rains, then the scenery is only fantastic for about 3 days a year when Bord Failte comes and takes all the photos for the ads.

By the time we got here the restaurant was near closing and we managed to throw a few steaks and a pint of the black stuff down us before a dander along the harbour and making of plans for the morrow.

Hotel is nice, better than sleeping in the Volvo at least. Though I am sharing a bed with a grown man, which always seems to be the problem of three single blokes looking accommodation together.

At least we got a sea view. Hopefully it’ll look pretty here in the morning. Prettier than Jonny will anyhow…

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On the road (again)

Nelly is off into the wilds of the west coast of Ireland, with a few muppets in the volvo for a few days. With luck we’ll find Father Ted’s house, the only Fjord (no Mondeo jokes…) in Ireland and if we’re really lucky the holy stone of Clontibbert.

It even appears we’ll be blessed with classic Irish weather. Makes me wonder why I got a car with a sun roof.

So expect the return to old form of a ‘blog a day’, Kiwi road trip, except with less surfing and lying in the sun.

Long live the road trip.


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