Farewell Electric Picnic Armband

Two years ago today I attended the third Electric Picnic in Stradbally, Co Laois. It was my first ever music festival and my only one to date. After I passed through the festival security checks I arrived at the gates to the campsite. It was here that I was fitted with a trendy colourful armband for me to wear for the weekend signifying that I was a fully paid-up attendee of the event. The armband was made of some kind of cloth which was the first of its kind I’d ever seen. Normally at events like this you get an irritating plastic armband which you can’t wait to rip off you as soon as it’s no longer needed. Once I arrived back in Dublin after the festival I decided to leave the armband on for a bit as it looked pretty neat.

I guess I never really thought about how long I would keep it on for but time went on and one day I realised I had been wearing the thing for a year. I decided at this time that it was now a challenge to keep the armband on for as long as possible. Soon after the one year anniversary, however, the armband began to go downhill. The colour rapidly faded and the whole thing in general went into a state of decay. Friends and family began to moan about how unhygienic it was but they just didn’t understand. This was my trusty armband that had stuck by me for an entire seven month round-the-world trip.

I remember one particular occasion when I was in hospital having an operation. I was about to go under general anaesthetic when the nurse advised me that no loose jewellery or accessories were allowed in the operating theatre and I would have to remove my armband. I stared at her in disbelief and protested that once the armband was off, it would remain off.
“Well”, she retorted. “It will just have to come off then.”
“Over my dead body”, I thought. I argued with her for about ten minutes and when she realised that I would literally rather not have the operation than to part with my beloved armband, she compromised. I was allowed to keep it on as long as it was taped up with about six layers of masking tape.

However, I was conscious of the fact that the armband was gradually becoming more and more flimsy and so a few months ago I made the decision to cut it off on the second anniversary of the day I was shackled to it. I would like to have seen how long I could keep it on for but I fear that it might get ripped off some day when I wouldn’t notice. What an unfitting end to our journey together that would be! And so, today, the first day of September 2008, the second anniversary of Electric Picnic ’06, I am removing my best friend from my wrist. Below is a list of some of the more memorable moments we’ve shared as well as a couple of pics from the detachment ceremony. May the armband rest in peace in Electric Picnic memorabilia heaven.

Memorable moments shared with the armband
A holiday with 5 friends to Bodrum, Turkey where I took my first scuba dive and danced in drag on a stage in front of several hundred English holidaymakers

The aforementioned operation to have pilo nidal sinus removed from my lower back under general anaesthetic

Riding a horse up a dormant volcano in Banos, Ecuador

Trekking the four day Inca Trail through the cloud forests in Peru to the ancient city of Machu Picchu

Journeying three layers deep into the Cerro Rico mountainside to visit the silver ore mines, the walls of which were thick with asbestos

Exploring the tropical wetlands of Brazil known as The Pantanal

A trip to Ushuaia, Argentina – the southernmost city in the world

A visit to the weird Moai statues of Easter Island, one of the world’s most isolated inhabited islands

Diving to a depth of 18 metres to explore the underwater life of the Great Barrier Reef in Australia

Hiking along a portion of the Great Wall of China

Taking the famous Star Ferry in Hong Kong

Investigating the ancient Temples of Angkor in Cambodia

Struggling to reach the top of highest peak in Indochina – Mt Fansipan, Vietnam

Tubing down Nam Song River in Vang Vieng while enjoying a bottle of refreshing Beer Lao

Partying at the world famous Full Moon party on Haad Rin beach, Ko Phangan, Thailand

Travelling an approximate total distance of 88,975 km (55,287 miles) around the world in seven months

Being part of the great sporting moment that was the Heineken Cup Final 2008 - Munster 16, Toulouse 13

The many trips I took to London in ’07/’08 to visit my girlfriend Aileen

Cruising the River Shannon for three nights with my housemates

Countless booze-fuelled nights out on the town with a variety of very agreeable people

Storm Diving

One of the main discoveries of my round-the-world trip last year was that I love scuba diving. I had already done a discovery dive in Turkey and liked it but it was only when I got to Australia and completed my Open Water certification that I realised just how much fun it could be. I continued this hobby when I was in Nha Trang, Vietnam and would have completed my advanced diving course in Ko Tao, Thailand were it not for an unfortunate accident involving a bucket of whiskey, 2 puppies, a talking parrot and some sharp rocks. Nonetheless I arrived back in Ireland determined to keep this hobby alive and kicking. Due to a number of reasons that are mainly financial it was only last Saturday, over a year after returning from my trip, that I got it together to book a dive in the freezing cold Irish waters.

Apparently cold water diving is far removed from the tropical paradise diving I was used to on the Great Barrier Reef and in the Gulf of Thailand. As such, divers must take an orientation cold water dive with a dive master before tackling such waters by themselves. It was to this end that we found ourselves booking a cold water shore dive for the morning of August 16^th. We had already planned to undertake this dive a month previously however a bad spell of Irish weather meant that the visibility would have been practically nil and so we opted to postpone it. Thinking that we couldn’t really go wrong booking a dive in the middle of August we went with last Saturday. We figured even if the weather was bad on the surface, how bad could the visibility get?

The first indication I got that the dive might not go quite as planned was at 8am on the Saturday morning. I awoke to the sounds of a howling gale outside and raindrops being blasted against my bedroom window. Uh-oh, I thought. This can’t be good. I looked out my window and sure enough, there was a small, tropical storm going on in the Dun Laoghaire/Rathdown area. I nonetheless got out of bed and gathered my gear together in the hope that the bad conditions wouldn’t prevent the dive from going ahead. It was while I was getting ready that I received a call from my diving buddy Fi who was equally concerned with the weather conditions. Fi had called Ocean Divers (the crowd we were diving with) and had been advised that dives would still be taking place. Fair enough.

I had originally planned to walk the short(ish) distance from my house in Glenageary to Coal Harbour in Dun Laoghaire however that plan was now out the window. I grabbed a tiny, girly umbrella on my way out (I had left my large, manly one on the LUAS a few days previously) which did a pathetic job of keeping me dry. I was lucky that the bus came almost instantly I reached the bus stop but did little to relieve the moisture I had already accumulated in the short walk from my house. I arrived at the Ocean Divers office in plenty of time but pretty soaked. Fi was running late however such is the nature of scuba divers that everything is very relaxed and laid back and nothing runs on time anyway.

After a while hanging around and grumbling about the shocking weather for this time of year, even by Ireland’s standards, we were assigned our Dive Master, Dave, for the morning. Dave helped us to get kitted out with wetsuits, wetjackets, booties, fins, BCDs (Buoyancy Control Devices), regulators, air tanks and weight belts. Because of the torrential rain and force 10 gale it was decided that it would be easier to change into our wetsuits at the Ocean Divers office rather than outdoors at the dive site. And so several minutes later we found ourselves sitting in the front of Dave’s jeep clad in tight, not-very-sexy spandex wetsuits. What made it interesting was that there were three of us in the front of a two-seater jeep! Fi was in the middle, naturally, and whenever Dave needed to change gears, he was required to slip his hand between Fi’s legs to reach the gearstick. I can certainly see the benefits of a two-seater jeep.

When we arrived at our dive site, Scotsman’s Bay, we stayed in the jeep for several minutes while a briefing was held. Dave filled us in on where he planned to take us and what we might expect to see when we’re down there. I found it difficult to concentrate as the jeep was rocking from side to side such was the strength of the storm raging outside. Our spirits were temporarily lifted when Dave spotted a seal in the water. We were told that seals are very friendly and often like to swim alongside divers and play with them.

After the briefing we ventured out into the hurricane to assemble our scuba gear. It was at this point that we realised that Fi had left her BCD at the Ocean Divers office. Disaster strikes! Several solutions to this problem were considered and eventually we decided to ring Willie who was back at the office and would be leaving soon and driving past us to bring along Fi’s forgotten BCD. This idea seemed even better when Willie informed us on the phone that he would be along in five minutes. I now know that Willie is not the most punctual of individuals. I reckon we spent a good 20 minutes standing in the howling gale and lashing rain in nothing but a spandex wetsuit. The thing I found funniest though was that several people passed us walking dogs and jogging. They were staring at us like we were mad. I felt like saying to them “Why are you staring at us? We’re completely protected in our 14mm thick cosy wetsuits. You’re the feckin’ eejits out walking your dogs and jogging in the lashing rain!”

Eventually Willie and the BCD arrived and we were able to get our dive plan back on track. We assembled the gear in record time and painstakingly hauled it down to the steps leading into the sea. Once we had all our gear on and were ready to go, we one by one entered the water. Now I’m usually used to stepping off a boat to get into the water however this time we literally sat on the step leading into the water and waited for a gigantic wave to come and sweep us into the ocean! We floated in the water for a few moments before descending and beginning the dive.

I’ll admit it, I was a bit freaked out. All the diving I’d done previously was in perfectly calm and clear tropical waters. As I descended, I struggled to see my own hand in front of my face. Imagine how difficult it was to keep an eye on where Fi and Dave were. However we got down to about 4.5m and set off on our journey. While I found the dive to be beneficial and a good bit of experience, it was too stressful to enjoy it properly. I constantly had to look around to see where Fi and Dave were. Then I’d look at my air gauge and depth gauge, get caught up in some seaweed and by the time I was free, I’d have to look for Fi and Dave again.

We ploughed on regardless trying to make the most of it until about 20 minutes in, I began floating to the surface for no apparent reason. I tried my best to keep myself down but I just couldn’t stop myself from ascending. I saw Dave disappear from view and I had already lost sight of Fi a few moments earlier. When you’re diving and you lose someone, the procedure is to spend no more than a minute looking for them underwater and then ascend to look for them on the surface. I therefore floated patiently in the stormy sea waiting for the other two to surface. Dave was right behind me and so we had a quick chat where we decided it would be best to head back as the visibility was so poor. We waited for Fi for a couple of minutes and just as I was beginning to get worried, I head her calling from a short distance away. Although Fi was fine and not exactly a million miles away, it was shocking how separated you can get in such a short space of time.

We arrived back at the shore around 15 minutes later and honestly, I was grateful. The bad visibility meant that we couldn’t see anything underwater and any novelty that the weather conditions produced had long since worn off. The most difficult task was still to come though – getting out of the water! I tried to use the large waves to my advantage and get them to sweep me up the steps. Sure enough I managed to get swept up to the first step but as the wave receded, it pulled me back in with it. I clutched and clawed at the next step but just couldn’t manage to pull myself up. The gear on my back which is virtually weightless in the water weighs about 2 tonnes out of the water which didn’t help matters either. Eventually, Dave helped me up out of the water but not before I got my finger lacerated to pieces when a wave smashed me against one of the steps.

We were out of the water but now we had to get dressed in the rain! After a while I had my clothes on but was none the drier for it. The only thing left was the annoying part of diving – rinsing out your gear and stowing it away. We drove back to Ocean Divers and got that done as quickly as possible. Once we’d gotten a stamp in our log books to say we’d completed the orientation dive, we were on our way. Earlier in the week we had made plans to hit the pub after the dive thinking the weather would be nice enough to warrant it. We decided to change those plans somewhat and ended up buying the makings of an epic fry and heading back to my place.

A few hours later we were showered, dry, full and drinking a few cold cans of beer at home while the storm raged on outside. Wig, Rachel and Aileen were all present too and later in the day Ali came home from Portugal to a big surprise. Click here for details! The dive was interesting and I’m glad I did it however I am 100% certain that the next time I do a dive in Irish waters, it will be when the weather is of a sufficient standard to ensure I can at least see what’s in front of me. For all I know, that seal may have been swimming right beside me and I wouldn’t even have known. In fact, it’s likely as Dave reckons he was slapped in the face by the seal’s tail!

Now away with ye…

Clare's 4 easy steps to making up

Last Thursday Clare and I shared a few pints in the Lincoln Inn with some of my old college mates. On the way there we were having a chat about this and that and somehow the topic of making up after a fight with your girlfriend came up. Clare basically broke the process down into 4 easy to follow steps which she has assured me will guarantee you will be enjoying make up sex in no time. I am now going to share these steps with you. Men - don't bother thanking me. Just send money.

1) Say to your girlfriend "You're right".

2) Say to your girlfriend "I'm sorry".

3) Say to your girlfriend "I'll try not to do it again".

4) Hug your girlfriend (must be genuine)

5) The next day, tell your girlfriend you're sorry again (optional)

NB: For the first few times you don't have to actually be sorry. But if you've already done this a few times, you have to mean it.

Now away with ye...

The Big Boozy Weekend

What with the one month abstinence from alcohol and the two 3-day detoxes I recently undertook, not to mention all the fresh vegetable juice I've been drinking, I've been on a bit of a health buzz lately. As such, I was due a big boozy weekend and the one just gone was such a weekend. It started as usual at lunchtime on Friday. Once I'd had my lunch, the Friday feeling kicked in and there was no way I was going to be doing any productive work for the rest of the day. I kept things ticking over nicely until 4.30 when I headed for home. I knew I had a fair bit of socialising to do over the next couple of days and so I decided it would be prudent to do a workout before the madness began. By the time I was finished exercising, I could scarecly contain my giddiness and rushed downstairs for the first beer of the weekend. Myself and Wig enjoyed a couple of cans of Tuborg ver a few slices of McCambridge's apricot & cranberry bread with some mashed avocado on top. Shortly after 8pm, we hopped on a bus and headed over to Lia's house in Blackrock. Lia was due to emigrate to London on Sunday and Friday night was her going away drinks.

We stopped off along the way for some brewskies and found Lia's house with much thanks to my old friend Google Maps. As Lia had invited us all around for 8pm, Wig and I figured that turning up at 9 would be sufficiently cool. We didn't want to be the first ones there. Obviously we're far less cool than we thought and even though we were an hour late, we were still the first ones there. Not to worry, it wasn't long before people started to turn up. The beauty of this night was the amount of old Andrew's people who turned up, most of who I hadn't seen in a long time, some of who I hadn't even seen since school finished! Time passed quickly while we had fun chatting to people and catching up. The time came for us to all head into town and my original plan was to hit the Gaeity to see Special Brew. Unfortunately due to a number of reasons, this plan didn't materialise and after a bit of time messing around, I wasn't even in the mood to go out anymore. Wig and Ali (who had joined us at this stage) decided to head in with the rest of them while I opted for a taxi home in order to prepare for the onslaught of Saturday. All the same, I had a really nice evening and it was great to see some of my old schoolmates again.

Saturday began with Dad calling around in the morning to watch Ireland play Australia in the last game of a very disappointing season. Funnily enough, we ended up having countless chances which sadly we just couldn't convert into points on the scoreboard. The final score was 18-12 to Australia and I reckon the Irish boys will be glad at the opportunity to have a bit of rest. Later on in the day, myself and the lads headed into town to check out the street entertainment festival that was on in Merrion Square. We walked around the square observing the various entertainment. A few of the entertainers were impressive however they tended to drag out their acts while telling a few very poor jokes along the way. Just then, we spotted what had to have been the best entertainer of the festival. An Australian guy was performing a series of feats, the first of which was swallowing a long sword. After a quick bow with the sword inside him, he proceeded to the next feat. The man attached a sword to a long horizontal bar with a beer keg attached to each end of the bar. He then swallowed the sword and lifted the two kegs attached to the bar using the hilt of the sword which was resting on his mouth. Unbelievable! For his final trick, the guy decided it would be fun to juggle two knives and some fire while blindfolded on top of a suicycle (very tall unicycle). After a bit of messing around, he finally managed it and it was incredible to watch. Afterwards the guy appealed to the onlookers for donations and I watched in amazement as he collected probably a couple of thousand euro in change from the few hundred people who had been watching him. People were handing him notes and one guy even gave him a fifty!

It was late enough at this stage and we rushed back to the gaff to get ready for Fi's sister's party that evening. It was Fi's actual birthday but it was Maria's birthday a couple of weeks previously. So it was kind of a joint party but with more of an emphasis on Maria. After a few quick showers and a couple more beers we were on our way. We stopped off in Tesco in Stillorgan to purchase some boozy presents for the two birthday girls. Fi's parties have always been good and this one was no different. We were lucky with the weather and got to sit outside with beers and burgers courtesy of Joe Swan. Fi's cousins were all there too including Brizer who we stayed with while in Melbourne last year. We sat, ate, drank and shot the shit. Once the sun went down, we headed indoors to continue the party. At one stage myself, Ali and Fi held a bit of a conference in the upstairs toilet. I've no idea what we talked about but I just remember sitting on the floor of the jax for ages talking to them! The night wore on and at around 4am it seemed logical to crack out the guitars and have a bit of a sing song! This was a little obnoxious seeing as Fi's parents had gone to bed already and late night drunken rowdy singing is not good for those who want to sleep. Also, I had bought a bottle of cava in Tesco earlier. I suddenly remembered about it and went off to find it. I thought I had found
it and I opened it only to find it was completely corked. Then I noticed the label - I had opened a really old bottle of champagne! Luckily it was corked anyway but it could have been disastrous! I soon found the cava though and everything was alright again.

Eventually at around 5.30am myself, Ali and Wig said our goodbyes and ambled up to the N11 to try and find a taxi back to Glenageary Park. By the time we got home, the sun was very much out and Sunday had already begun. I had only one thing on my mind - bed. I awoke around 1pm feeling a bit worse for wear and remembered it was Father's Day. What better way to celebrate the day of Father's and get rid of a hangover than hit the pub? So a short while later I found myself down in the Eagle House with the folks for some afternoon pints. Later on that evening, Fi called round for some post-party analysis and a jam. We jammed out a couple of songs and then retired to the sitting room with a take-away and a funny film. A great relaxing way to finish off a very enjoyable weekend. This weekend I'm off to London (probably for the last time :) and I'm sure there'll be no end to the scandal this time either.

Now away with ye...

The scourge of the morning

Every morning, I am woken up by my alarm at 7am. I turn over, hit the snooze button and grab an extra 15 minutes of sleep. Once my 7.15 alarm goes off, I’m out of bed and into my dressing gown. I walk downstairs and prepare my morning juice. With my juice in my hand, I head back upstairs and on the way, I turn on the pump for the shower. I spend the next twenty minutes beautifying myself with a shower and a shave and a scuab of the old fiacla. Following this, I quickly get dressed and head to the dart station. This is when I start to get annoyed.

As I approach Glenageary dart station, I am confronted by two young foreigners – one male one female - but both with the same agenda. They both want to burden me with a copy of the daily rag that they are paid to hand out. Yes I’m talking about the Herald AM and the Metro “newspapers” – the scourge of the morning. Actually, the girl who hands out the Metro is fairly cute and I enjoy smiling at her every morning but my mood quickly changes to irritation when she forms a barrier to the entrance of the station with her Herald AM counterpart. The idea is that they make it difficult to enter the station without acquiring one of these rags however I pointedly refuse to accept one – even if the cute girl smiles at me.

But that’s not all! My journey to work from here takes 30 minutes and over the course of that half hour I am presented with the same problem three more times. Once at the exit of Grand Canal Dock station, once at Baggot St Bridge and yet again outside my place of work on Baggot St. When I board the dart, I am frequently required to move copies of the “newspapers” off a seat in order to sit down. As the dart fills up, the rags are moved to the floor and by the time the train arrives in town, a massive amount of litter has accumulated throughout the carriages. Some people elect to take the rag with them off the dart however this only defers the problem to a different time and place. The rubbish bin at the exit to Grand Canal Dock station is constantly overflowing with the rags. As people walk by and see that the bin is full, they simply toss the paper on the ground. I’ve even seen one guy discard his papers on the ground surrounding the bin only to acquire new ones five seconds later from the distributors standing outside the station!

Aside from the massively unnecessary number of these rags floating around the city each morning, I have a problem with the content. I mean it would be one thing handing out all these papers if something substantial and good was contained inside but nothing could be further from the truth. The level of reporting in the Metro and Herald AM is absolute bottom of the ladder journalism. In fact, I don’t think it even qualifies as journalism. www.iclasses.org defines journalism as ‘a style of writing for presenting bare facts to describe news events’. Bare facts?! That’s a laugh! I think if anyone were to read any of the “articles” in the morning rags with any kind of scrutiny, they will find that bare facts have been replaced with sensationalised nonsense and silly captions that would be more at home in a childrens’ book. These papers are nothing but a collection of short words in large font with some bright pictures for people to look at. Very often, sentences don’t even make sense. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t hold the Sun or the Star in any higher regard. But at least at least the people who read these are paying for their own rubbish. In the case of the Metro and Herald AM, the papers are forced on us for free each morning and we read them because we have nothing else to do on the way to work.

Well a long time ago I decided I wasn’t going to be subjected to this crap. I always bring a book with me to read on the dart and if I ever want to find out what’s happening in the news, I buy an Irish Times which is on sale just inside the door of Glenageary dart station. I am shocked at how many people read the tripe contained in the pages of these rags. People who otherwise command respect in society lower themselves each morning to a level beyond comprehension. And what about the kids? Every morning dart contains large numbers of school kids, most of who are also reading one of these papers. What are these kids going to grow up to be like if they keep reading this stuff? My old Leaving Cert English teacher, Ms. Duff had a way of dealing with it. Whenever she caught someone in the year reading a rag like the Sun or the Star or the Mirror, she would grab it off them, tear it to shreds and tell the student they would be in big trouble if she caught them reading that rubbish again. That was before the days of the Metro and the Herald AM but I have no doubt that she is equally as appalled by this scourge as I am.

In addition to the litter caused by these papers and the complete crap inside that they call news, I can only imagine the energy wasted on producing them. In an age where we are supposed to be as green as possible and reduce our carbon footprint, here we have two companies printing out tens of thousands of sheets of paper a day. And for what? So we can have our news dumbed down for us and be spoon fed it like children. So that tomorrow’s generation think that short words in big font together with a bright picture and a “clever” caption is news? For the four week period between 31/3/08 and 27/4/08, the Metro produced twenty issues averaging 75,805 individual papers a day. If each paper contains 30 pages that’s over 2.25 million pages produced every working day. If ever there was a contributor to global warming…

I urge people to do everything they can to stop this madness. There is no good at all that can come from the production of the Herald AM and the Metro. If enough people boycott them, maybe finally they will be shut down. Let’s all work towards a city where trying to catch a train or bus doesn’t mean being accosted from either side by rag pushing fiends. Or where people’s knowledge of current affairs does not stem from sensational claptrap. Let’s purge the scourge!

3 day detox

4th June 2008 10.00am
Today I embarked on a three day detox program which involves consuming only juice for the duration. I bought a juicer about a month ago and since then I’ve had a vegetable juice every morning for breakfast. Now I’ve decided to go all out and have nothing but fresh juice for three days.

The first thing I had to do was make sure I had everything I need. Yesterday I called into my friendly local fruit and veg supplier in the Dun Laoghaire Shopping Centre. She sorted me out with plenty of carrots, apples, broccoli, spinach, peppers, celery, cucumbers, beetroot, ginger and lemons. The final thing I needed was a flask that I could bring juice to work in – preferably one that would keep the juice cool until lunchtime. Tesco helped me out in this respect and at the expense of only €10.

I realised that I wasn’t going to be able to drink alcohol for the three days either (tough when the last day is a Friday and the temptation will be huge!), so I hit the rooftop terrace of the Eagle House in Sandycove last night for a few creamy ones with Wig and Clare. I woke up this morning, not quite in the state of mind I had hoped for day one but nonetheless I dutifully hauled myself out of bed and began juicing.

My first juice of the day involved carrots, apples, broccoli, lemon, cucumber, celery, beetroot and half a yellow pepper. I made a double batch and had half for breakfast and transferred the other half to my new flask which had been chilling in the fridge over night. This is going to be my lunch however the detox program I’m following requires that you have another juice in the late afternoon between lunch and dinner (aka linner). So I made up this juice as well and stuck it in a 1L Ballygowan bottle although there was far less of it than the breakfast and lunch juice. The idea is to top it up with water to make a full litre which I’ll do at work.

So off I set this morning with my little backpack containing my flask of lunch juice and my bottle of linner juice. I’ve already spent an hour at work and things don’t seem to be going too bad at all. I’m glad I’m not a coffee drinker as I imagine this is the point where I’d be suffering from caffeine withdrawal symptoms. However, I am under no illusions that by 11 or 12 o’clock I’ll be in a very hungry place. I’ll let you know how I get on!

2.45pm
I’ve just had my lunchtime juice and I’m still alive! I’m actually feeling very refreshed and energised. As expected, I got very hungry around mid-morning. I feared for my ability to make it all the way to lunch without eating and so I headed up to the canteen and got myself a smoothie with strawberries, blackberries, a banana and some orange juice in it. That definitely kept me ticking over until lunchtime when I gladly consumed the second half of the juice I made for breakfast. I am also pleased to report that the tesco flask works a charm. My lunch juice was as cold as it would have been had it been in the fridge all morning.

It’s now approaching 3 o’clock and I’m in a great position to finish the working day without consuming anything that isn’t juice. I’m still full from my lunch juice and I also have my linner juice to go. So I reckon I’ll crack that out at around 4pm. My biggest concern at this point is whether I’ll have the energy to complete a workout when I get home this evening. I’m sure I’m getting plenty of nutrients from all the veggie juice however a lack of carbs could make for a difficult work out. I’ll report back later with my findings!

5th June 2008 4.00pm
Well I’m halfway through my second day of the detox and I must say I feel great! It’s definitely doing a good job of flushing out my system. Last night I decided that doing a full workout would do more harm than good and so I gave it a miss. Instead I made myself a smoothie for dinner that involved mixing veggie juice with an avocado in a blender. I was surprised at how good it actually tasted! Especially since there was an entire bag of Kale involved. It filled me up and I went to bed pretty content.

This morning I had a treat in store for me. The breakfast for day two of the detox program is a delicious fruit smoothie with raspberries, blueberries and natural yogurt among other things. This was far more filling than my breakfast yesterday and I made it all the way to lunchtime without feeling any pangs of hunger. I enjoyed my lunchtime juice and am just about to start into my linner juice for day two.

The curious thing about the detox is that although I’m not actually feeling hungry, I’m craving solid foods. Not necessarily junk food but just something solid. I find it odd that I want food even though I’m not really hungry. Still, I’ve decided to opt out of the detox slightly early. I will stay on nothing but juice until the end of work tomorrow at which point I will be meeting Fi for some food, a few pints and a gig. I’m sure cutting the detox short by just a few hours won’t reduce the overall benefit by much. In any case, I’ve only recently completed a one month abstinence from alcohol so I don’t feel a need to repeat that feat so soon.

5^th June 2008 4.00pm
Bloody hell! I was doing great until last night and feeling really good about myself. I was feeling very refreshed and flushed out and impressed with my ability to endure two full days without food. Until Emsy dropped over. The first thing I noticed before I saw or heard her was the smell. The unmistakable smell of a dominos pepperoni pizza. Not only that but she had under her arm a massive box of Belgian chocolates which were for me in return for saving her and her mum from a killer bird a few weeks previously.

The funny thing is, I wasn’t actually hungry. But as I said yesterday, I was craving solid foods and as I watched Emsy begin munching into her pizza, I started salivating uncontrollably. But then to make things worse, Wig decided that he was going to have a pizza too! So just as Emsy was finished hers, Wig started into his own. And as a final test of my discipline, a few cold beers were cracked open for good measure. I can tell you now that I resisted. It was tough, but I did it. Even when I heard that beautiful kh-ksh sound when a cool can of beer is opened, I still resisted. I can only marvel at my new-found willpower.

I woke up this morning in great spirits, delighted that I hadn’t given in to my cravings the previous evening. I made my way downstairs and made a bumper batch of juices to keep me going all through breakfast, brunch, lunch and linner. I’m currently enjoying my brunch juice but very much thinking ahead to this evening when I’ll be indulging in a good meal and a few pints.

8^th June 2008
I’m happy to report that the detox was a resounding success. I went from Tuesday morning to 7pm on Friday evening on nothing but juices. To celebrate, I met up with Fi after work. After a couple of pint in Bruxelles we hit Wagamama’s for my first solid meal in 3 days. I had a delicious vegetable and chicken noodle dish with the odd duck dumpling on the side. It was great! After the meal we headed on to Andrew’s Lane Theatre where Fi had us on the guest list for ‘Those Dancing Days’, an all-girl Swedish electro-rock group. It was a really good evening and I didn’t go too crazy opting for the last bus home. Sure I had to be up early the next morning to watch Ireland get beaten by New Zealand.

Although the detox was difficult in parts, it really does work and completely cleanses and flushes out your body. I recommend it for anybody who feels they need to detox their system. You could even just do it for one or two days if you didn’t want to do the full whack. I imagine it would also be good after a heavy period of boozing and eating such as Christmas or a holiday. Yep, if feeling good and a cleaned out system is what you’re looking for, juicing is the way to go.

Farewell Kev!

Phew! Last night I got a late invitation to drinks in town with Kev, Dan and Denis. I gladly accepted the invitation as it was Kev’s last night before heading to Clifden for the summer and I hadn’t seen Dirty Denis in about 18 months. The plan was to meet in The Temple Bar at 10pm but of course when I arrived at 10.10, I was the only one there. I wasn’t too put off mind you and purchased a creamy pint of Guinness while I waited for the boys. The Temple Bar was jammed with tourists, many of them American and I quietly surveyed the scene while sipping my pint and listening to the ludicrously loud trad band. Denis was the first to turn up and I barely recognised him with all the facial hair. He looked like Kevin Bacon! We purchased more pints and soon got talking to some randomers. The randomers turned out to be Danielle, Meghan and Travis. Danielle was from Windsor, Ontario and the others were from Florida.

As talking progressed and Dan also arrived, I let slip that Col is currently living in Toronto, not too far from Windsor. Danielle, being a crazy Canadian, insisted on getting in touch with Col. Always the match-maker, I promptly texted Col with a message from Danielle. As was to be expected, Col’s response was ‘Who… What?’. I move on from that topic and decided to question Travis as to how he got nasty looking cuts all over his face. I was expecting some big tale of courage and bravery and more courage where he intervened on a situation where a woman was being attacked by a big guy with a knife. Unfortunately, the truth was far less exciting. It turns out he was attempting to give Danielle a piggy-back and in doing so, fell forward and cut his face open! I advised him that in future he concoct a much more masculine story and forget the real explanation.

When I had given up trying to persuade the Canadian and Americans that Denis looked like Kevin Bacon and Dan looked like Gary Sinise, I decided to make tracks. I had intended to take the last bus home at 11.30 however due to the late arrival of the boys, it wasn’t really going to happen. I did however have every intention of catching the first vomit comet at 12.30, which I did. On my way home I realised that I didn’t have my house key. I texted each of the three lads I live with to unlock the front door before they went to bed. I of course forgot that they were all already in bed and later found out that they had all got out of bed to unlock the front door for me, only to meet each other in the hall. Each one thought they were the only one who got the text!


It’s the next day and I’m positively wrecked. I am still easing myself back into a drinking buzz following a four week abstinence. The weekend just gone was a drinking disaster however I did manage to have four pints last night and not get too bad. However despite this, I’m in a very lethargic place right now and am looking forward to a good sleep tonight. But not before a delicious chicken korma first!

Now away with ye…

Munster - Rugby Champions of Europe 2008

Last weekend I attended the Heineken Cup Final 2008 between Munster and Toulouse. In short, the experience was incredible. Following is an account of the weekend, one of most memorable of my life.

I left work at the usual time of 5pm on Friday 23^rd May 2008. Except this time I had a bit more of the Friday feeling than usual. I was finally on my way to Cardiff for the European Rugby Cup Final between Munster and Toulouse. I had bought tickets way back before the season began and Munster had come a long way, fighting to come top of the pool of death and beating both Gloucester and Saracens in away quarter and semi finals respectively. Now they faced the giants of European rugby, Toulouse, in a very fitting end to their European Cup campaign.

My excitement heightened as I passed through security and noted that the vast majority of travellers that evening were dressed in red Munster jerseys sporting the familiar white Toyota text. As I approached my gate, it became clear to me that supporters were trying to get to anywhere at all in the UK that they could, regardless of distance from Cardiff. I presumed they would later worry about getting to Cardiff from Glasgow, Newcastle or Manchester or wherever they were flying to. It never ceases to amaze me how determined Munster fans are to get to a match.

In my case, I was flying to London. I had purchased plane tickets back in March when it was definite that Munster had topped the pool stages. At that point, air tickets to Cardiff were already sold out and tickets to nearby Bristol were averaging over €200 each way. There was no way I could afford that and so I opted for a set of €20 each way tickets to London Gatwick. I planned to stay with Aileen on the Friday night and head to Cardiff on a coach on the Saturday morning. Even with the added cost of getting to Aileen’s place in Blackheath by train and the return coach ticket to Cardiff, the total cost of travel was nowhere near what it would have been if I’d flown to Cardiff or Bristol.

So off I went and arrived at Aileen’s later that night with no problems other than the usual one hour flight delay. The only task of importance that needed to be performed that night was to wash my Munster jersey and a few other clothes. I had failed to dry my washed clothes for the weekend and so I brought my bag of laundry to work on Friday with the intention to get it tumble dried at a laundrette during the day. Unfortunately the laundrette was too busy to do it and I was forced to bring the clothes to the UK with me. By the time I arrived at Aileen’s, the washed clothes were smelly from a day and a half of being in a plastic bag and so I had to wash the whole lot again. However, as you will soon find out, this turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

At 7.30 in the morning, Aileen and I woke up and set off on the journey to Cardiff with my bag of freshly washed clothes! First we took a train from Westcombe Park to London Bridge. From there we were able to get the tube to Victoria Coach Station where we grabbed a connecting coach to Cardiff. By the time we arrived at Victoria Station, we were running slightly late and couldn’t find our coach. After a few seconds glancing around the bus station however, it was obvious which coach was ours. It was the one with a massive line of people waiting to get into it – all wearing red Munster jerseys. Great stuff! I even bumped into Thom, a bloke Fi and I met while travelling around Bolivia last year.

The coach ride was fun with a great atmosphere inside it albeit a lack of air conditioning. There was even the odd French person on the bus although they weren’t wearing Toulouse jerseys. The journey was scheduled to take 3 hours and 15 minutes and we were only thirty minutes late arriving in Cardiff due to a massive queue for the toll bridge just outside the city. As soon as we arrived we were treated to a spectacle like none other. The sun was blazing down on a glorious day in Wales. The streets were jam-packed with Munster supporters and plenty more were spilling out of the pubs. It was only 1pm and everybody seemed to be drunk already!

I got in touch with a friend of my cousin Richard who we were renting an apartment from and we grabbed a cab to meet him. Once he had given us the key and showed us around we swiftly freshened up by having a shower only to discover there were no towels! It seemed we were destined for an intense drip-dry session when I suddenly remembered that the random bag of laundry I’d been carrying around included a towel! Not a big one mind you but enough to do the job. One quick bottle of champagne later and we were in a cab again, travelling back towards the stadium. By this stage, the inner city streets had been closed off to traffic and the taxi driver dropped us as close to the stadium as he could. This suited us fine as it gave us an opportunity to do a bit of walking around and soak up the atmosphere.

The scene on the streets was even better than two hours previously. The crowds were bigger, redder and rowdier. A crowd had a rugby ball and were kicking it as high as they could into the air. It was the responsibility of the person who caught it to kick it back up again for somebody else to catch – that’s if it didn’t land on your head! At one stage, the ball went to ground and about 6 people dived on it. It looked messy but eventually one guy came up tops and hoofed the ball over a building. There was a large noisy groan from the crowd who were disappointed their game had been cut short. However, several seconds later the ball appeared from the other side of the building and landed in the middle of the crowd. Of course this was immediately followed by a loud Irish cheer.

I’d been texting my Uncle Mike a bit that morning as he was also travelling up from London on the train with two of my cousins. Although it was approaching an hour before kick off, we headed to a bar to meet up with them briefly. Soon after that we were on our way inside the stadium. We were in section U34 which is fairly high up about halfway between one of the try lines and the 22-metre line. We climbed up and up and up and all the way we could hear the booming crowds from inside the stadium. Eventually we got to U34 and as we stepped out we were awed by an incredible sight. The stadium was only half full at this stage but already the noise and colour were breath-taking. I was also pleased to note that our seats were actually at the front of section U34 and not as far back as I thought. The only disappointment was that the stadium roof was closed despite the fact that it was a glorious day outside.

Aileen wanted to queue for a couple of drinks so I left her to it and headed for my seat to soak up the pre-match atmos. As I took a better look around the stadium, I realised I could not see a single Toulouse supporter. Of course, this was made difficult by the fact that the Toulouse jersey is also red however I still expected to see a few. I couldn’t even hear any Toulouse chants. The lack of opposition supporters was further emphasised when the MC announced each Munster and Toulouse player one by one. At one point, the MC called out Ronan O’Gara’s name which was greeted by a deafening roar. Immediately following this, O’Gara’s Toulouse counterpart was announced - Jean-Baptiste Elissalde. Although Elissalde would be a highly respected and experienced French rugby player, there was a barely audible murmur in response to his name.

Aileen arrived back with the drinks just in time for kick-off and things got going. In retrospect, the game panned out pretty much as it was always going to. The first 20-30 minutes, Toulouse appeared to have the edge. They had all the possession and were making all the attacks. However, they never really threatened the Munster line and it became clear that Munster were trying to wear Toulouse down – and it was working. Once they had lowered the French team’s confidence to the desired level, Munster turned things up a notch and moved into attack mode. From this point on, Toulouse never really had a chance.

The try came shortly enough before half time. Toulouse had a scrum on their own line however such was the standard of Munster’s scrummaging that day that the Toulouse number 8 picked the ball out of the scrum, only to be immediately greeted by Tomas O’Leary and Alan Quinlan. The Toulouse player was buried and the scrum awarded to Munster. Several passages of pick and play followed Munster’s resulting scrum and a short while later, Denis Leamy was being driven over the line by Donncha O’Callaghan and Alan Quinlan. The score would have been 10-3 to Munster at half time had it not been for a Toulouse penalty late in the first half.

The second half continued with Munster busy locking the game down. They were ahead and they were going to make it stay that way with a little help from the supporters who were by now launching into the umpteenth rendition of ‘The Fields of Athenry’. About half way through the second half, Cedric Heymans threw a small spanner in Munster’s works when he performed a beautiful double chip and chase to get past Munster’s otherwise impenetrable defence which resulted in a Toulouse try. It was the only piece of play of note from Toulouse and it came down to a tricky manoeuvre that it takes a player of Heymans’ stature to pull off. The last ten minutes were as nail biting as ever for a Munster game but finally, Munster were awarded a penalty and the final whistle sounded. Full time. Munster were champions of Europe again with a score of 16-13.

At this point, the reason for the closed roof became clear. Once the Toulouse players had accepted their medals and quietly slipped off to the dressing room, the main floodlights were turned off and an atmosphere of suspense was created by blue and red spotlights. The medals and cup were awarded to the sound of screaming fans and some fireworks but unfortunately we were on the wrong side of the stadium to see properly. The players did however do a lap of honour, pausing at each section for the fans to get a good look and take some photos.

After a while, Aileen and I slipped off to do some celebrating with the 60,000 estimated other Munster supporters in the city. Alas, the celebrations were not to turn out as expected. I had been off the booze for four weeks at this stage and I severely underestimated my lack of tolerance for alcohol. That’s not to say that I drank a particularly large amount, but it meant that a few hours later, I was far too lethargic to be doing anything and we headed home at around midnight. Slightly disappointing but it didn’t at all take away from the magnificence of the day.

Thanks to my newfound lack of tolerance for alcohol, I awoke the next day with an unusually heavy hangover. Thankfully, I had little to do other than travel that day. Once we’d settled up with Richard’s friend for the apartment, we headed into the city for an onwards journey to London and then on to Dublin for me. One of the main things I noticed about the city the next morning was the cleanliness. As you can see in some of the photos below, the streets were utter carnage by the time we left them after the match. By the next morning, the place was spotless. The officials have obviously got the clean-up operation down to a tee.

It was a great weekend, one of the best of my life and certainly not one I’ll ever forget. Talk about something to tell the Grandkids! Tickets are already on sale for the Heineken Cup Final 2009 but I’m not sure if buying them this early would be tempting fate! Photos to follow below real soon.

Now away with ye...

Blog Resumes!

Hello everyone! Welcome back to my blog. It's been a while since I've updated this blog as I had a seperate one going for a while when I was travelling the world. For those interested, the blog is still available at http://grumstravels.blogspot.com. Previously, this blog was intended to keep a record of drunken nights out. The keen observer will note that from now on it will not be limited to this genre. I'm not sure how frequently I'll update the blog, I suppose as often as I feel like. My decision to re-open this blog came following a few postings on our gaff website http://www.gaffbhala.com. After writing a long posting for the gaff site, I realised it would be handy to get this blog up and running again. So here it is! Hope you like it.

Now away with ye...