Viking
26 Leprechaun, Firbolg
27 Jockey
28 ORANGE COUNTY
29 Barney the Cocktail Maker
30 Red-faced Beardy
31 Various: angry short speccy guy, ticket inspector (dead-ringer for a German U-boat commander), two Clare girls, old man
32 Hurling
33 Sean McCabe the barber
34 Yellow Steeple, Trim
35 Tara
36 The Celts were tough
37 Faery Footballer
38 Jack Charlton
39 Sean the Dublin Bay Prawn of Neutrality
40 Kevin the Carp of Storytelling
41 SHANEWORLD
42 Tractor/pheasant connection
43 Fungie the Dolphin
44 Rex and Shaggy
45 Doolin
46 ‘Mars!’
47 The Great Fiddle Mystery
48 Gort
49 Can Man
50 Spanish Conceptual Art
51 Various: Lorcan Murray, little-girl-next-door bird, anorexic English-looking blonde, shy sales assistant
52 Benbulben
53 Posing on some swanky ski resort with Steve Podborski, Bryan Adams and, er, William Shatner
54 Bus driving away
55 A Sligo pub: Pete the accordion-player, the Fiddler, ‘Dolores’ the Bodhran Player
56 Daniel’s House, his Fans and his Jumper
57 Daniel’s Family Tree
58 Celtic Mike 238 59 Brain-Emptied TV
60 Four-Part Harmony
61 Tweed Cap
62 MARYLAND
63 God?
64 A Moving Statue
65 Connor/Kinky
66 Potato
67 Alloy Wheel
68 Upside-Down car
69 Fish
70 Irish Pub Guide
71 Irish Crossword
72 Distribution of Tourists in Holiday Season
73 Distribution of Rainfall
74 Distribution of Conversational topics
This book is based on journeys I made to Ireland in 1998, and on various forays back to previous visits, or (in one or two cases) into an alternative reality. It’s divided into a series of ancient mythical areas, which I’ve made up. Some names have been changed, some have stayed the same. I’d like to think that you can start at whatever point you want in the book. Think of it as a rambling pub conversation about all kinds of trivia such as What is Irishness? What is Englishness? What is nationality? Who are we? Who are you? Are you staring at my leprechaun? Ah, so many questions and so little drinking time …
Is Shane MacGowan Still Alive? Camden Tube to Camden Lock
I came out of Camden Town tube, badly in need of a piss, and crossed the road to Barclays bank. There was just enough in there to get me through the evening – I was thankful that I’d kept the account at the little village in Suffolk where I’d worked for a while years ago. They knew I was a hopeless case but, because of that, they always made sure I could somehow get hold of money – perhaps they liked the fact that they had an impoverished London-based slob on their books rather then the usual farmers, shopkeepers, salesmen and village idiots. No, not very likely at all, it was probably just a computer error that kept giving me access to cash.
I was going to an Evan Parker gig at Dingwalls. Not my usual midweek fare, atonal improvised alto saxophone (is it anybody’s?), but I was meeting my old schoolfriend, Plendy, and Martin, a mad Welsh mate of his who worked at the BBC World Service Monitoring Centre in Reading, and who was the kind of bloke who’d make witty one-liners that referred to Anglo-Saxon poetry and Russian revolutionary film makers. You had to be on your toes with Martin all the time.
I started walking quickly in the direction of Chalk Farm, then saw a figure heading towards me at about 0.5 mph. I instinctively slowed down to get a good look at him. He was wearing a baggy, dishevelled black suit with an open-necked shirt and he looked as though just keeping upright was taking up all his energy. At one point he staggered into the road and kicked a half-full black dustbin bag, then zigzagged back onto the pavement. I tried to catch his eye as he passed me, but he was staring straight ahead, at some point in the pavement or the future which might keep him going. I turned and watched him disappear into the night, then carried on to the club.
‘Guess what?’ I said to the lads a few minutes later, as Evan Parker went ‘eeeeeaaooooo a bleedeblee doooOOOWWaaapooopopopo’.
‘What?’
‘Shane MacGowan is still alive.’
And before Martin had time to make a witty connection between ‘Rum, Sodomy and the Lash’ and Beowulf, I went to the bog.
IRISH MYTHS & LEGENDS 1 How to be Irish
1 Why you Need to be Irish
Gone are the days when being English opened doors for people around the world. Now Irish is where
