Carlow
Date:
27th January 2007
Report:
Dave Francis
Southbound again we went. A brilliant journey through the Wicklow gap allowed us to take in some very fine scenery indeed. This included the most remote house in living history. Five cars parked outside it and nobody to tell em to "turn that shit down" if they fancied a house party. Heaven. Although it must get fierce cold in winter.
The trip to Carlow was largely quiet otherwise, myself and JP beginning to feel the effects of the long walk and climb of Glendalough previously. To really understand how dull the county is, one of my highlights was spotting a signpost for the N10 road! Nevertheless, CASA is about going to 32 counties and not being racist against the poorer relations. Carlow town must be a shiny Beacon for all those cosmopolitan-wannabes with their Braun factories and their big Dolmens...
Which takes me nicely onto our stone. Finding the Dolmen proved difficult until we ran into a squirrel loving local who guided us with her farmer pointy hands and we were there in minutes. Unfortunately, Brians new Leon was not Lion-esque enough to carry a Dolmen (and anyway, the pagan ghosts that lay underneath would surely have chased us all the way back to Naas if we did). We instead settled for a few "token-stones" underneath the Dolmen. Man it was freezing at this stage so we decided that wed move along and grab grub in this god-forsaken town.
While Carlow boasts one of the most meaningless counties in our fair nation, we CASA members are not prejudiced. Like the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that only show gammy things like woodland and trees, like Bobby Robson, like the N62 that takes Brian back to Borris every Friday, they are still an integral part of the bigger picture. The food, while basic fish, spuds and veg, was adequate for this CASA member to regain his Mojo for the upcoming night out in Naas.
We scurried back there...well Brian did; the force of his car with us in it moved us along faster than Scorpion's grappling hook in Mortal Kombat. Not that we were unwilling. Carlow is a dead thing. Taking stones from the place seemed to rob it of its last piece of usefulness. Watch out in the coming weeks for announcements of job losses at the Braun plant! So out i went with the guys minus my passport and my coat. I hurried along to Grace's bar and Time Nightclub to gain myself a temporary beer jacket. Dressed in my gimpiest shirt and JPs slinkiest shoes, i passed the normally tight bouncers with suave and gusto leaving them goin "Damn Dude is Dy-no-mite" in weird Isaac Hayes accents.
Alas we all forgot our cameras in there, which is just as well cos we stood there like gimps for half the night. The lack of talent was of great dissapointment to us all, but i guess thats what happens when you stand beside a mirror all night. We had about 3/4 drinks, adequate reward for a successful day, but not too much to steal our Sunday antics. Back to JPs for a Connect 4 marathon the likes of which has never been seen before or since, and a massive orgy invliving the 4 lads sleepin in the same room.
Tomorrow, Kilkenny!