A week an' a half ago I rode back to England havin' had a great time over in Ireland travellin' on my wife's 1982 Suzuki GS650GT. I started the trip though with a ride up from Basingrad to Duns in Scotland to stop the night with one of my oldest friends who I've known since my first day at infant school. I had a good evenin' over a few beers catchin' up on life since Paul an' his wife moved there.
The next mornin' it was up an' away to Luthermuir just a way north of Dundee to a bike rally, run by the Saints an' Sinners MCC, where I was playin' over the weekend. That's what I mainly gig at - bikers seem to like what I do. I was due to play a set mid-afternoon on the Saturday but the weather was good an' no-one was inside so I told them I was happy to play acousticly outside. I ended up playin on an' off between 2 an' 7pm, havin' a lood laugh an' a joke with a fair few folk. I played much later in the evenin' too, from 1am for a half hour or so. The idea was that I was gonna play some slower songs to calm folks down after the rock bands but I'd had a drink or five over the afternoon/evenin' an' forgot my remit.... an' left the stage with 'em jumpin'up an' down some more whilst I headed back to my tent for some kip.
Sunday mornin' dawned an' I packed up my tent an' sleepin' bag an' left for Glasgow for a night there to meet up with my mate Peter who I travelled with two years ago round some of the Baltic countries. He took me out to a great bar an' the followin' mornin' we set off, with somewhat muzzy heads, on our bikes in the pourin' rain an' a foul wind for Stranraer an' the ferry for Ireland. Dockin' at Belfast we set off for Westport, County Mayo on the far side of Ireland for a couple of days where I joined in a session with a couple of fellas at Geraghty's pub. Many a Guinness was supped before we had to say goodbye an' be on our way up to Co. Donegal.
Bein' as it was late in the season there weren't many folks campin' at the site we stopped at for the night at Meenaleck. We ended up in Leo's bar, Leo bein' the father of some of the members of Clannad an' Enya. They were to be playin' there in a festival the followin' weekend but the pub was next to dead the evenin' we were there. Note to self.... go to Ireland when there are some tourists, it's a bit bloody quiet otherwise.
The next day we set off for Limavardy for another bike rally where I was booked to play for the weekend. The ride along the N56 through Co. Donegal was, at times, stunningly beautiful as we followed the road pickin' up parts of the coast here an' there. Through Letterkenny an' on through Derry until we reached our destination. The Quay Vipers MCC put on the Snakebite Rally yearly, this was my third time playin' there an' I reckon it's the best rally I attend, though it's taken me this long to put my finger on what it is that makes it so. I've made comments on a couple of forums I post on about what it is that makes a good rally, mostly I believe it's the folks who attend. A great site run by a good club, with a decently priced bar an' good grub, along with some good entertainment do go to makin' a solid basis for a good rally but I've been to great rallies where there's been no need for me to go see what's on in the marquee 'cos the right folks are there an' I've spent the evenin' drinkin' an' chattin' round the tents. The Snakebite Rally has all the aforementioned plus loads of the latter an' the craic is indeed mighty.
Three days an' three gigs, a rake of Guinness an' a hangover or two later, I said my thankyous, goodbyes an' fare thee wells to the folks I know in the host club, to various other mates an' to Peter who was headin' back to Scotland.
I left the site late mornin' with another mate Mick an' his son Geoff. They were headin' in the same direction as myself, south, but they were turning toward Dublin at Monaghan for their ferry whilst I carried on south. I had hoped to get myself over to Bantry Bay but decided that was probably a bit too much for the time I had remainin' on this trip, so I headed for Waterford stoppin' at Mullingar for the night.
An' what a bloody miserable night it was. I found a campsite right near the banks of Lough Ennell which I'm sure durin' the season is a great place to be, but the bar was shut as was the campsite really an' with no bar in walkin' distance, no food apart from a box of cuppa soups an' just myself campin' there for the night it seemed somewhat of a letdown after the rather hectic weekend I'd had. On top of that I was missin' my family a little more than usual an' ridin' hadn't been much fun as with all the motorway milage I'd done durin' the year on the Suzuki I'd managed to square off the rear tyre, makin' cornerin' a little more than interestin'. So I decided that if I felt the same way the followin' mornin' that I would head for home.
I awoke the next day to a cloudless, sunny sky (that was why it had been so bloody cold durin' the night), but even that didn't change my mind. I found the motorway to Dublin where I turned south again onto the N11, passin' Wicklow an' Wexford, arrivin' at Rosslare mid-afternoon where I boarded a ferry to Wales for the journey home.
I'd hate to count the number of pints of Guinness consumed over the trip but I can tell you I rode three miles short of 1,800 miles.
This comin' weekend I'm off to Wales for three house gigs to raise money towards a fightin' fund set up to help Welsh Motorcycle Shows Ltd in their case against the bunch of sheep easily led by some pigs which closed down both the Welsh International Motorcycle Show an' The Anglesey Bike Show.
As I said on the inside cover of my last album RIDE....
Folks say there are only two certainties in this life; death an' taxes. Well let me tell you another.... Roads, they'll take you places.
Until next time folks, I wish you well.