Brian Thompson
Paul Pearson
John P. Delaney
Nothing too eventful happened on the trip up until we got to Athlone. There we drove around Dave's estate looking for his gaff. We drove to a "dead end" where we noticed a car that was completely destroyed by some of the local thugs. We left that part at speed. Soon we found the shack Dave calls home, and we all went into a sitting room and started playing with little babies toys. It was fun. Dave wasn't impressed and after a piss, both on the floor and the ring of the jacks, we left. It was about this point I mentioned the stone we should collect when we were there. Unable to think of anything of interest in Westmeath, we left for the Hodson Bay, just out the road. It was here that our Roscommon stone would be unearthed.
After a brief, and uneventful spin around Athlone, we headed for the bay. It was only a few minutes drive so we were there in no time. We passed the Hodson Bay Hotel, and it looked like a nice place. Joe stayed driving down a lane until the lane kind of disappeared, so we turned around and went back to a car park of some sort. We shone the lights out towards the bay, and we vacated the car.
And it was fucking freezing. We all legged it to the lake, had a look, picked a stone, discussed what the scum on the lake's edge was, did a little dance and sprinted to the car to warm up. On driving away, we spotted another car parked. We presumed the occupants were shagging, and they were after having a good laugh at our expense.
We headed back towards home now as the night was pushing on. I wanted to collect an Offaly stone on the way back as we were going to be passing the spot where the stone was to be got. That was Clonmacnoise. Joe wasn't too keen on the idea, and we'd probably have to pay to get in there, so we stayed on the road towards home.
The trip back was mainly boring. That was until we got out on the main road again and Joe put the boot down. At a cruising speed of 80mph, we would of been home in no time. But a poor little fox ran out into Joe's path. The poor little fella was confused with the lights, he ran one way, then the other, then bang. He was killed stone dead we think. Joe wouldn't stop. He stayed going, but he eventually did pull over. Myself and Dave stood on the middle of the road and sang the national anthem for the poor fox. JP joined in a bit, while Joe and Pecker assessed the damage to the car. Luckily for Joe, there was none. We felt so sorry for the fox, there is a shrine to him here.
We got home around the 2a.m. mark and I went straight to bed. I was fairly tired at this stage. All in all, this was a hugely disappointing trip. Nothing too interesting happened and it was fairly boring. Roll on the next trip, whenever it may be.
