Ireland for Dummies - Lessons #1 to 10

PaddyinBA

Ireland for Dummies - lesson #1: 'Culchies' are people from the rural areas aka NOT Dublin whereas 'Jackeens' are from the 'Big Smoke' aka Dublin. They tend not to like each other unless Ireland are playing England in any sport at which point they form an alliance which typically lasts until last orders in the pub.

PaddyinBA

Irish for Dummies - Lesson #2: Drink Beer {repeat as necessary}

PaddyinBA

Irish for Dummies - Lesson #3: Not all Irish people have red hair. We blame Vikings for that.

PaddyinBA

Irish for Dummies - Lesson #4: It's a long way to Tipperary unless you happen to live in Tipperary in which case it's a long way from anywhere

PaddyinBA

Ireland for Dummies - lesson #5: If offered a cup of tea, it's pointless to refuse but beware as tea is a gateway refreshment which leads to biscuits and sandwiches and cake. You have been warned.

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Ireland for Dummies - lesson #6: Vitamin 'G' = Guinness = Good for you..

PaddyinBA

Ireland for Dummies - lesson #7: When you give someone directions in Ireland you MUST include at least one pub e.g. To reach the Post Office - "Go to the end of the street and take a left at Kitty O'Shea's then go past the Blarney Stone and you'll see the Post Office opposite the Stags Head.

PaddyinBA

Ireland for Dummies - lesson #8: Saint Patrick was an impostor. The patron saint of Ireland is actually Father Ted

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Ireland for Dummies - lesson #9: Do not take offence when Irish people use words like 'feck' and 'shite'. We often use these as terms of endearment.

PaddyinBA

Ireland for Dummies - Lesson #10: Don't be too excited when your Irish friend invites you for a 7 course meal. It's just a 6 pack of beer + a pack of crisps (potato chips)

Click the pic (above) for more.....

Tags: ..Irish Ireland for Dummies..

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What Doesn't Kill You, Keeps You Alive

[cont'd from here] - I arrived in Victoria Bus Station in London on a September Saturday evening after a marathon three day bus/boat trip from Greece. I hadn't saved much money from my summer job and I blew what little I had in Greece, so I was now down to just enough for the train and ferry back to Dublin.  My parents would be none too pleased about the sorry state of my finances which were supposed to go part way to pay my fees. I must have been feeling fairly foolhardy or just plain dumb, since I decided to try and track down my cousin who was working in London for the summer between college semesters. I poured  some coins into a pay-phone (remember no mobile phones in these days) and called his home in Dublin and got his address from his brother.  I bid my college buddies farewell and headed off to try and navigate the London public transport system. I was now a seasoned traveller and had survived Denmark and Greece, so what could possibly go wrong?


By 10pm, I had finally arrived at the address of a very 'ethnic' neighbourhood in Hackney, East London and knocked on the door of the house.  I was wearing shorts and tee-shirt with a backpack and was sporting my newly acquired pink tan.  The door finally opened and I asked if Patrick was at home. The Carribean woman looked me up and down and must have put 2 and 2 together. This pasty pink Irish git must be a friend of the other pasty white Irish git that moved out 2 months ago. With a thick Carribean accent she said - "He no be livin' here no more, but me gotts' him address he be wantin' his mail sent to".  I wasn't too happy to have to head off to the far side of London - Brixton, but at least I had the details.


As I started to make my way back to the tube (subway) station, I noticed a dodgy geeza' (a rough looking individual) who seemed to be following me. There was no one else on the street and it was now dark.  He started to quicken his pace so I quickened mine. I had a heavy backpack on so had difficulty picking up much speed. I could hear he was gaining on me so I fumbled around in my pocket and took out my pen knife. He was now running after me so I ran as fast as I could.  When I realized I couldn't out run him, I turned around and warded him off with my knife (all 2 inches of the blade) and shouted "Keep the f#ck away, I have a knife!" .  He slowed down at first but then to my horror raised a brick he had in his hand above his head and with a muffled slurred voice said - "I'm gonna f#ckin' kill ya!"

His eyes were red and glazed over and he looked like he was off his head on drugs but he seemed hell bent on pounding me to a pulp with a brick. I was beyond scared.  I was terrified, so I took off as fast as I could running in the middle of the street with the psychopath giving chase.  A car was approaching, so as I ran towards it, I waved it to stop. The driver was a big Rastafarian and rolled down the window to ask "What the heck be goin' on man? " The brick wielding lunatic was still hot on my heels and was now chasing me in circles around the car.


Rasta dude got out of the car to intervene.  Thankfully, he was built like a ox and in a flash grabbed the drug crazed nut job, pushed him up against a wall, knocked the brick out of his hand and shouted "Get the f#ck outta my turf man!"  I didn't wait around to thank my Rasta saviour. I simply turned and fled.  I saw a bus pulling up at a bus stop and jumped on.  It didn't matter where it was going.  I was back among people - safety in numbers and all that.


Once I was well clear of the scene of the crime, I splurged on KFC for dinner and then a taxi to reach my cousins new abode in Brixton and got there around midnight.  It turned out to be a grafitti riddled squatted council flat.  The neighbourhood was not at all inviting.  Gangs of kids were hanging out on the corners smashing bottles.  I knocked on the door several times but no one answered so I sat on the front step and wondered WTF was I going to do now. I was already short of the money needed for the train / boat back to Dublin. Western Union didn't exist in those days and even if it did, I was going to get a 'boat' load of grief asking to be bailed out after 'working' all summer, so I was rightly up shite creek without a paddle.  At 2am an unfamiliar body drunkenly stumbled up to the door and asked in an Irish brogue "who de feck are you?"  I'm looking for my cousin Patrick" - I explained. "Ah yeah, Patrick moved out a few weeks ago - Not sure if he's still in London" - he said.  He could probably tell I hadn't had the best of evenings.  "You can stay here if you want, but just for tonight."  "Thanks" - I said. All I wanted was the safety of 4 walls and some sleep. Hopefully I'd  figure something out in the morning.

I slept late the next morning and finally woke up when my host turned on the TV. It turned out I went to high school with his younger brother so we chatted about what each of us had done for the summer and I told him of my adventures the previous night.  "So you have no idea where my cousin is? - I asked. "No, he was due to go back to college soon so he may be back in Dublin already" - he replied.  There was a knock at the door so he went to answer it.  "Ah it's yerself!" - I heard him greet the visitor.  And there, drunk as a skunk, wobbled in my long lost cousin Patrick.  He greeted me with indifference in his intoxicated state.  "Ah it's yerself!" - he said, immediately followed with "Jaezuz - I'm burstin' for a pish!..is there any beer in the fridge?"


He eventually sobered up enough to realize it was no small feat of chance and adventure that we had managed to meet up at all.  He had only showed up at his old temporary abode by chance to pick up his forwarded mail. We recounted our summer adventures over beers that evening (as the Irish do) and we headed back to Dublin the next day on the 24 hour journey of train and boat.  It was one of the roughest vomit comet ferry crossings I have been on, but just a small chink in the armour of this road weary traveller. This had been a summer, I would never ever forget.  They say what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. I now have a much better appreciation and understanding of that expression and a strange but understandable affinity for Bob Marley's music .



     

Tags: ..Ugly Mugger Fugger..

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Jason Days wife Ellie Harvey Day is Smokin' Hot!

The US Masters golf just finished up with South African Charl Schwartzel emerging from the closest scramble to the finish in years and unfortunately 21 year old Northern Irishman Rory McIlroy who had led for 3 days, faltered at the last hour to drop far behind.

The buzz on Twitter, which I tuned into in the final few holes was not about the golf, but rather about Aussie golfer Jason Day's wife (Ellie Day). She was shown waiting anxiously on the 18th green and the cameraman and producer seemed to take a shine to her as they kept zooming in on her again and again.  Apparently Jason met the Ohio beauty in an Irish pub called Mavis Winkles where she was a waitress.

I find it interesting that social media is changing the way we interact with more traditional media like TV. Your thoughts?

Here's some more pics of Ellie below

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Tags: ..Jason Day's wife Ellie Harvey Day is Smokin' Hot! Photo Pics..

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A Greek Tragedy

Having worked like a 'Double Whopper' for the summer of 1987 in Burgerking Copenhagen, I headed to the Greek Isles for some R n' R with two college friends before recommencing our student endeavours in Ireland.  We purchased a one way airfare from Copenhagen to Athens and left the rest to fate (something we would later regret).  Athens was a chaotic polluted mess and a far cry from the organized multi-lingual Danish experience. It was a bit of a struggle but somehow we managed to reach our intended destination, the island known as Ios (pronounced 'eeeos' and not to be confused with Apples 'iOS' since iPhones and technology like internet, mobile phones, Skype etc was still a very very long, long way off.)

We were so clueless and ignorant of where we had ended up that we stayed in a room near the port the first night and all agreed that the island was a bit dead in terms of nightlife, since there wasn't a club in sight (fyi - we called them discos back then). It wasn't until the second night we discovered the mayhem and debauchery going on in the main town, 2 miles up the hill. Cheap cocktails with names like blow-job, wet-dream, orgasm and tequila slammer bars and clubs full of party mad drunken lunatics from all over the world.  It was a case of, 'if you can't beat them - join them' and oh brother did we ever join them.

 I finally made it to the beach about 2pm the following day with a motherfucker of a hangover and vague recollections of bumping into half a dozen old high school friends from Dublin. Ios was 'the' party destination back in the day and people came from far and wide to party like rock stars on a student budget .  After seven days of similar antics and having acquired a typical Irish pink tan, we headed back to Athens to arrange our transport back home to Dublin.

What we hadn't factored in was half of the European student population was also headed back from their vacations and last minute flights were extortionately expensive.  The only alternative was bus and boat from Athens to London. 3 long uncomfortable days on stinky, sweaty buses and vomit comet choppy ferry crossings all across Greece, Italy, France and UK.  Ah the follies of youth. The incident that awaited me in London (before I finally made it home to Dublin)  however was to be one of the scariest I have ever experienced, ah but sure isn't that a story for another day.
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Tags: .. Greek Tragedy..

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April Fools?

It seems Mother Nature has a cruel sense of humour and is having the last laugh on this April Fools. I thought it supposed to be Spring? How's the weather where you are?
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Tags: ..April Fools..

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Copenhagen - The Awakening of the Irish Gypsy Nomad

It was the summer of 1987 - Copenhagen was to be my first trip outside of Ireland (not counting camping with the parents in Enger-land).  With only a week left before departure, the original five adventurous college classmates eager to spend a summer overseas and earn some cash dwindled down to just two. The night before we were due to depart, the last brave comrade in arms phoned to tell me he 'lost his passport' and wouldn't be able to go.  I had already quit my prestigious part-time job stocking shelves in a supermarket, so I had little option but to go it alone.

I was a shy, innocent, clueless Irish Paddy heading off to the unknown.  My sisters boyfriends brother was supposedly aware of my imminent arrival so I least I had a contact on the ground...or so I thought.  On the plane to Denmark, I chatted with an Irish girl (Kathryn) next to me and told her of my plight.  "Who is supposed to meet you at the airport" she asked.  "John H.", I responded.  "I doubt it she said - sure isn't he away for a week at the Roskilde Rock Festival!"


I should probably write something eloquent like "on comprehending my imminent dilemma my heart sank...blah blah blah", but in reality I nearly shat my pants.  I was to arrive in a strange land with nowhere to go and no one to help...FECK!


On seeing my concern she said - "but there's a spare room above our flat where you can stay a few nights and I'll introduce you to the Irish Burger King crew".

It was only recently I thought about what a pivotal moment that was.  Without her contacts and hospitality, I might well have been back home in Dublin a week later with my tail between my legs and possibly never have been keen to leave the ol' sod again.  Instead, I got a job at Burger King <- [click me], and met a ton of wonderful people and gained an appetite for wandlust that continues to this day. Thanks Kathryn wherever you are..
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Tags: ..Copenhagen, Denmark..

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Kiss me Irish Arse....

........It's just like kissing the Blarney Stone and will bring you the luck o' the Irish. Just keep your hands off me 'Lucky Charms'

Happy St Patricks Day! ( Lá Fhéile Pádraig! )

Tags: ..Happy St Patricks Day!..

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St Patricks Day Parade Hoboken (Debauchery rehearsal)

The parade is held a few weeks early every year in Hoboken - New Jersey, since the main event in New York City on March 17th overshadows everything else.  I got to take part in the parade this year which was a blast.  The bars open at 10am and charge $20 entry and the lines go around the block so we bailed out of the parade early and crashed a party complete with beer keg and games of beer pong.  There is a really heavy police presence with a zero tolerance policy towards drinking or peeing outside or in a non designated spot. $2,000 fine if caught.  Some enterprising local put up a sign (see pic below) offering toilet facilities for just u$d10!

 Gotta Pee? $10 please!

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Tags: .St Patricks Day Parade Hoboken..

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Jersey State of Mind

Newark, New Jersey gets a bad rap next to its famous neighbor New York. It smells worse, it's a bridge or tunnel away, It's the reason for 'Jersey Shore' but it still has a sense of humor.  This is a piss-take / parody of  "New York - Empire State of Mind" by Jay-Z | Alicia Keys - Check it!

Tags: ..New Jersey State of Mind..

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Winter Wonderland

It's hard to motivate yourself to go outdoors in this weather but with cabin fever setting in, I eventually dragged my sorry Irish arse off the sofa and headed out to stretch my legs.  There have been record snow storms in the North East this year and the fact that I've not had to deal with a really cold climate for five years makes it a little tougher. (I may have gotten a bit soft!) The thought that the worst of the weather may yet be to come is scarier still. It does make good photo material however. Check the slideshow below. How's the weather where you are?

  

Tags: ..Winter Wonderland..

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Angel Falls, Venezuela

In 1998, while we were living in New York, my GF and future missus got offered an au pair (nanny) gig in France for the summer looking after a French diplomats kids and once that was done (trivia fact: France won the World Cup that year), she headed direct to Buenos Aires to visit her family. I decided to head down to Argentina to meet the potential new in-laws but I made a few pit stops along the way (it's the backpackers equivalent of stopping off for a wee dram for some Dutch courage).  This was not one of your standard luxury all inclusive holidays.

I flew from New York to Caracas (not my fav city) and then after eventually finding the bus terminal (thanks for nothing Lonely Planet!), I took a non air-con local bus along the North coast of Venezuela where despite the stifling sweat bucket conditions, I think it was the breath taking scenery and interaction with locals bemused by why a gringo (the only gringo on the bus) would take the slow uncomfortable bus complete with chickens in cages, still ranks high on my all time most memorable travel experiences. 

After arriving in a hot and humid Puerto La Cruz, late at night and securing a very basic windowless room with just a  fan and 3,000 mosquitoes who proceeded to feast on my pasty Irish flesh, I continued by bus the next itchy morning to Ciudad Bolivar where I caught a propeller plane to Canaima which is the jumping off point for the infamous Angel Falls (tallest waterfalls in the world).

It took a day and a half by canoe to get to the base of the falls with our guides 'Tarzan and Jane' a French expat couple, who wore only loin cloth (no joke).  We slept in hammocks in the open air at night with another 3,000,000 mosquitoes who turned my belly in a mogul slalom course.  If only they ate the blubber and not the blood?!!


Despite the near death malaria experience, food poisoning, heat stroke and some weird parasite worm in my stomach / stool samples - discovered 12 months later, I highly recommend this trip to everyone.  You know what they say.., What doesn't kill ya .... doesn't kill ya! 


Alas - I didn't have a still camera back in the day and this is all that remains of my tardy recording of the trip :-(( 


Angel Falls, Venezuela - 1998 from Paddy Quickroute on Vimeo.

Tags: ..Angel Falls, Venezuela..

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Downtown Manhattan, NY with a big ass cruise ship as a bonus

One of the best sky-scapes in the world - second only to Hong Kong in my humble opinion...check out Statue of Liberty at 1:02....

Update: The one above is from my iPhone - I found this one below a few days later

NYC - Mindrelic Timelapse from Mindrelic on Vimeo.

Tags: ..Downtown Manhattan..

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Growing Old

Here's a few snaps from the Xmas / New Years holidays along with a few of home base during the same period. It's back to reality with a 'brrrrrr' now and the snow is still piled high on the footpath (sorry that's sidewalk in Yankee speak) outside.  The warmth of Florida seems like a distant memory and more snow is on its way.  I'm beginning to understand why the 'blue-rinse' crew fly south for the Winter. Could it be true that old people aren't daft after all? ...or am I just getting old myself?

 Meanwhile down South.......

Click on Slideshow Below for more pics....

Tags: ..Holiday Travels..

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White Stuff Everywhere

Everybody is talking about snow and ice and cold and when you turn on the news it's nothing but blah blah blah about white stuff everywhere.  I specifically flew south for Xmas to avoid this crap but what happens?....There's feckin' white stuff everywhere here too..

OK - I guess white stuff on the ground isn't always bad... and now Trivia time for Pensacola Beach:

1.) This beach was completely fu(ked by the BP oil spill earlier this year but thankfully has recovered rather well. 

2.) The Native American Indian Geronimo (now there's a real American Hero)  was sent here (Fort Pickens) after his capture.  Must have been quite a contrast from his homeland of New Mexico.  
   

Tags: ..Pensacola Beach, Florida..

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2010 - The Year in Review

Since this blog is more of a diary, I feel compelled to share that 2010 is a bit of a blur (nought to do with beer - well maybe a wee bit..).  It was a challenging year to be sure.  The missus and I flew from our abode in Hong Kong and spent the last week of 2009 slummin' in a swanky Singapore apartment courtesy of my cuz' and his missus ('grassy arse' B & J) who headed to the snow and ice mayhem of London / Dublin for their Xmas break including an unscheduled free stopover on the airport floor for a night in Luton.  Deja Vu if you look at the weather forecast in those parts of Europe at the mo'.


We were back in Hong Kong just in time for a spectacular New Years fireworks display with a large party crowd on a glitzy junk boat on the HK harbour, where I got spectacularly busted trying to 'borrow' a bottle of champagne from the 'non communal ice box'.  The problem with a boat is there's nowhere to run and hide from dirty looks and worse (for 90+ slow, tick-tock, agonizing minutes....cringe).  Note to self - only steal champagne on land from now on - lessons learned.

The jury is still deliberating as to whether I had been avoiding work or it had been alluding me but alas in February 2010 opportunity knocked and I answered and after some back n' forth and see-saw, a potential international relocation for June/July once again presented itself to the already road weary Mr and Mrs Paddy in BA.

And so it came to pass, that we Irish/Argie gypsies packed up shop once more and headed off into the sunset to arrive at an already familiar destination (NYC/NJ) where upon six months has now passed and I'm happy to say no regrets (apart from the B&T label). We've reconnected with old friends and made new friends and with the exception of owning a home (we rent), and having 2.5 children (New Years resolution) and a dog (not likely) and a car (maybe) we are living the American dream (subject to recessionary scaling).

Here's Wishing Best Wishes for the Holidays and Happy New Year to Y'all!

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Tags: .2010 - The Year in Review..

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Rubberbandits - Horse Outside

How to pick up the ladies in Ireland....

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Tags: ..Rubberbandits - Horse Outside, madeline mulqueen..

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Scarred for life by the brute force of Irish hospitality

The Irish have a reputation for hospitality which is renowned the world over.  When you visit someones residence you will typically be offered a cup of tea.  This apparent gesture of goodwill should not be taken lightly.  Do not under any circumstances accept a cup of tea.  Tea is a gateway refreshment which leads to more and more varieties of snacks and food you don't want.  If you accept the tea you will be asked if you want sandwiches, cake and on and on it goes.  Before you know it, you are presented with enough food to feed an army

The fundamental problem with Irish hospitality is the shameful lack of moderation and restraint.  As a wee lad visiting friends and relatives in rural Ireland I still have torturous memories of being subjected to unwieldy amounts of hospitality.  I remember the pre-visit strategy where my parents would warn us kids not to say 'yes' to any form of refreshment. This rarely worked as my Mum would eventually be forced into submission of 'just a cup of tea' and before long the mountain of sandwiches were in front of us.  The amount of butter on these sandwiches was criminal verging on manslaughter.  Thick dollops and wedges of artery clogging butter that made me want to vomit on the spot.  My Dad would lean over and whisper to us - "Yiz better feckin' finish those sandwiches now, 'cos we don't waste food around here."  

To this day, I still gag at even the thought of butter and I eat only dry toast.  Scarred for life at an early age by the brute force of Irish hospitality.

Tags: ..Butter..

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First a Fire, then a Flood, What's next a plague of locusts?

We had a bit of excitement in our crib a few days ago. I felt compelled to record some of it. I added some artistic licence where it was lacking.....

Tags: ..Fire, then a Flood, what's next a plague of locusts?..

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The End of the World is Nigh?

And so it has begun.  I went to the mall today ....

(place to go shopping for you non Yankee natives) as one does in this part of the world for a leisure activity and lo and behold they were playing Christmas music - WTF?.  There's shops with Xmas lights - Jingle Bells - White Xmas, Apparently - Tis' the Season to be Jolly! - Stuff the Turkeys hole with Holly and all that jazz. - but just a bit early mind you? A sign of a desperate economy perhaps? Christmas has indeed come early. The Republicans and the highly intellectual Tea Party are flavor of the month in the recent elections. Obama has failed to revive the US economy even though he's had 2 years to fix the 8 years Georgie W.B. used to flush us  down the toilet with 2 unwanted wars in far off lands.  Time to board a flying saucer to some far flung universe where humanity will have a better chance of survival.  All aboard Noah's Ark now before the flood starts.

Tags: ..The End of the World is Nigh?..

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The Cuban Pisshead Crisis

In June of 2002, I planned a trip to Cuba with my young reprobate of a brother.  Since he was living in London and I in New York (no direct flights permitted to Cuba) we decided we would rendezvous in the Bahamas where we could spend a few nights and continue the short hop, skip and a jump to Castro-land from there.


I arrived in the Bahamas first and junior was scheduled to arrive the following morning. When he was a no show 4 hours after his expected E.T.A, I bought some international phone cards and eventually tracked him down on his phone to hear his 'tale of woe' of how he 'left his jacket in a nightclub' (for the 65th time!) and said jacket had his feckin' passport in the inside pocket..........but not to worry he had already been to the Irish Embassy to get an emergency replacement passport which involved having to submit a police report.  But not to worry as he had already re-booked his flight and would arrive 24 hours later than originally planned.....or would he?!


When he was a no show 4 hours after his rescheduled E.T.A, I eventually tracked him down on his phone to hear yet another 'tale of woe' of how he was afraid he'd miss his flight if he went to bed so he stayed out on the town all night and in his frazzled state he could no longer recollect where he had left his replacement passport.......but not to worry he had already been to the Irish Embassy (where the warm Irish welcome was more like frost n' hail) to get another emergency replacement passport which involved having to submit another police report and likely getting him added as a suspect for selling passports.  But not to worry as he had already re-booked his flight and would arrive 24 hours later than the 24 hours later than originally planned.....or would he?!.....Well, yes, in fact he did finally arrive at our hotel where I hurled a torrent, nay a tsunami of verbal abuse that left an indelible impression on him ....for at least 3 minutes and was promptly forgotten / ignored.


The passport saga was not quite over just yet but I'll save that for the post script.


After a final night in the Bahamas we headed to the airport and boarded an ancient rattle n' rust bucket, propeller plane to Havana. I withdrew 800 dollars from an ATM just before takeoff.  The ATM only dispensed Bahamian dollars but these were 1 to 1 to the USD so not an issue as far as I was concerned.  Junior had forgotten to advise his bank he was out of the country so they had cancelled his card due to suspicious activity.  We were in a prepaid all-inclusive resort in Varadero, North West Cuba for the first 3 nights and the last 3 nights in Old Havana where again the hotel had been prepaid.

Cuba was cheap and it was only on our second last night I needed to tap into my reserve of Bahamian dollars. We must have tried 20 different money exchange places but nobody wanted anything to do with Bahamian dollars.  All my cards were issued out of the US and therefore not accepted in Castro-ville.  Shuttle to the airport was included with the hotel so we just needed booze tokens... oh yeah and food...maybe.  We were literally up socialist alley without a peso (almost).  Somehow we had to survive for 48 hours on about u$d15 each.  Easy for a local but not Irish tourists looking for craic!.


Desperate times call for desperate measures.  So for u$d8 each we availed of an 8am tour of Old Havana (one has to immerse oneself in the culture - doesn't one?) which included a tour of the Havana Rum distillery.  After abusing the samples table including a mint flavored rum (akin to mouthwash) we were eventually ushered out by security for being a tad over zealous breakfast imbibers.

On our last night in Cuba we felt the cold hard reality of socialism.  We had just enough money to buy 2 cans of beer and share a toasted sandwich before going to bed at 8pm. However, we had endured, we had overcome - Viva la Revolucion!    


....and what of the last detail of the passport saga? - I hear you ask.....Well when Junior finally arrived in the Bahamas after losing his passport twice, his bags had gone AWOL on route and when they showed up 24 hours later, there in his suitcase was the original 'lost' passport, where he had stashed it for safe keeping. (not in his misplaced jacket pocket as he had thought)

Tags: .The Cuban Pisshead Crisis..

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R.I.P. - DUNNES STORES :-((

Apparently a Facebook Group (click here) I set up in 2007 - 'Dunnes Stores - Northside Shopping Centre, Coolock, Dublin', where I slaved for years as a teenager and beyond, suddenly has "content that infringes or otherwise violates the rights of a third party." WTF?!!

Is it Dunnes Stores concerned their logo was being used irreverently? Is it a disgruntled eejit who was or wasn't included? Who the feck knows! 

As a result the Facebook Gestapo have zapped the entire thing. The group had over one hundred people, loads of photos and good banter. Thankfully it achieved it's objective and reconnected lots of people who partied like rock stars on minimum wage many moons ago.  Supposedly, I can dispute and argue my case via email but I'm not holding my breath.

To the "violated third party" -  As they say in Asia - "Fuck the 18 generations of your ancestors!" - (Cao ni zu zong shi ba dai)!

Tags: ..RIP - DUNNES STORES :-((..

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Jesus is following me on Twitter

I haven't exactly been full throttle on Twitter since I signed up a few years ago. The problem is I'm not always sure what to twit about.  Are people really interested in knowing - .... I'm having a ham sandwich! - or - ......I'm constipated!.... or other fascinating personal details -  I know I'm not interested in Facebook 'friends' who need to share their 'FARMVILLE' adventures and need my help to rescue a frikin' imaginary black sheep or even worse read the answers to a quiz they took about ME - WTF!


So you can just imagine my surprise to discover the man upstairs (Jesus) is now following me on Twitter.  Some of you will recall my altercation with the Holy One many years ago [click here for a recap], so I'm delighted to be back in favour.  He doesn't seem to be too popular yet so I suspect he might be just using me to get to my friends/followers. So my question to you is...Should I follow Jesus back or risk being damned to the fiery depths of Hell? If I don't follow him and he unfollows me - what then? Advice?

Jesus (@Jaezuzz) is now following your tweets (@quickroute) on Twitter. Jesus @Jaezuzz I'm walkin' on water y'all

Tags: ..Jesus is following me on Twitter..

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Memories from the Eighties - Amster-Van-Damn!

Back in 1989 when I was a Paddy in UK (London), I escaped for the long weekend with a bunch of lads (Sten, Podge, Mick, Tony and me) to Amsterdam. In those days there were no budget airlines for cheap flights.  There were no web portals like Expedia for booking hotels n' what not. Be-Jaezuz, sure the feckin' Internet of interconnecting tubes thingy hadn't even been invented yet. The 'youth of today' (never thought I'd use that expression) don't know how feckin' easy they have it.  


So off we set on a Friday evening with no advance reservations for travel or accommodation. We hopped on the tube from Colindale to Victoria, train to Dover, then hovercraft to Calais, and finally a train to Amsterdam where we alighted and walked to a tourist office to secure our bed for the night.


We were just a tad pissed off to find out there wasn't a single room to be had due a Dutch holiday with people from the far corners of Holland descending on the city.  It was getting late and we figured we were losing valuable drinking time so we put our bags in the train station lockers and went off on the razz (mega pub crawl).


I don't think any of us were expecting what was on offer in Amsterdam.  Ireland in the late 'eighties' was practically pre-historic in terms of conservatism and London was still under the grips of Maggie Thatcher so wasn't much better but Amsterdam, Holland was off-the-hook!

Suffice to say a good time was had by all until the very wee hours and daylight, whereupon our accommodation dilemma raised it's very ugly and by now very sore head. We trekked back to the tourist office after breakfast only to be given the same 'No room at the Inn' story and were advised to head 20kms outside Amsterdam to the city of Harlem.

On arrival at the tourist office in Harlem we were given the same bad news of "Booked Solid"  so we did what any resourceful group of extremely hungover and sleep deprived  lads would do.  We rented a Volkswagen transit van (now 11am) and drove it to a nearby car park where five of us snored up a proverbial storm (some more comfortable than others).

We availed of free showers in the train station later that evening before heading back for another wild night in Amsterdam and another vampire-like day sleep in the van.  I think the car hire company were flummoxed since the 'IN' return mileage for 2 days was exactly the same as the 'OUT'.

Cultural highlights of the weekend included an Off-Off-Broadway production of 'Moulin Rouge' and a novel artistic cinematic take of the classic 'Animal Farm'. Things to Note: Flemish pastries will literally blow your mind!

Tags: .Amster-Van-Damn, ..

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