We quit the meal, one whole course short of the official finishing line and abandoning about two pints of semi-melted vanilla ice cream, pre-laced with gluey strawberry sauce (out of a tube) and served in tall glasses too narrow to admit our dessert spoons, and go in search of a pub.
Returning 35 minutes later, we are (of course) back where we started: trapped outside in the porch. Except now it is nine o'clock at night and the drizzle has turned into proper rain.
The minibus driver for Blimey O'Reilly's All Ireland Fun Tour, an amiable Kiwi lady, has also made the mistake of leaving the building. Shared adversity is an excellent single parent for rapid friendship. We make room for her in the porch partially out of the wet, and give her a turn at ringing the non-ringing bell, and are soon chatting.
She says, "It's a week's tour. We start in Dublin, then we come here, then we go on to Belfast, and then we come back here again."
She pauses, a look of puzzlement appearing on her brow.
She says, "Actually, I don't know why we do that."
Then she says, "He really is something of a Fawlty, isn't he?"
From behind the locked door, a familiar voice can be heard approaching. It is saying: "I'll ask them if it was the meat. I tell you, I'm sure it was the meat."
R says, "It's all right for you, Verity. You can just write it all up."
And I say: "Aren't I the lucky one?" ®
It's a quaint place really ...
Being a 'free-stater' and having sailed around the north coast stopping off in various places I can totally relate to this dining experience.
I particularly recall one enormous unionist landlady assuring us over dinner that the 32 county republic was imminent ... as her face contorted I guess she subconsciously expected this to be some great big dirty orgasm -- "It's comin', it's COMIN'!", she assured us.
It was late, and we were very grateful when she offered to 'do us a sirion steak', overpriced as it was. After all there was no else in the place and she was about to close. She sat and watched carefully as we chewed endlessly on the wildly overpriced stewing steak covered in rapidly congealing pepper gel....
Dumb Irish? ..... There is no such thing
There's bound to be a few quirks after nearly four decades of Troubles but they are a resilient and resourceful bunch, the Irish, and it'll not take them long to sort things out now that the madness is gone.
Think of it in terms of a mid-life crisis, whenever you get rid of all the old baggage which was putting you down and you emerge refreshed and reinvigorated with a renewed sense of purpose..... and the wit and determination to carry it through.
In the IT field, the island of Ireland is a Gold Mine just waiting to be MetaDataMined and Connected for its Unique Local Knowledge.
Work in Progress....
The Quiet Man
I find this drivel ........ well, drivellous (new word...) ...........
I have been in so many pubs around London that would make that featured in American Werewolf in London, seem like your best local. So who is this eegit??
Diddley-eye-diddlye-eye ............ get real, and ditch that John Wayne & Maureen O'Hara movie .....