The night spent camping on Beara Island was eventful to say the least. Our quest to refill our water bottles at the islands only B&B, led us to encounter a mad French woman who had taken over the B&B, making it her home. Having persuaded her to let us have some water, we managed to drag Matt away from the truly "French" posters on the walls, narrowly escaping a vicious attack from her pet Corgi.
The surprisingly large number of Foot & Mouth Warning signs posted on gates and fences, led us to believe that it would not be wise to camp in one of the local fields for fear of encountering the wrath of an Irish farmer with a gun. We instead opted to spend the night behind the local school in a grassy field, which served as their playground - although to some of our group, the possible threat of an enraged school caretaker with a broom seemed far worse.
Soon the tent was pitched, the dehydrated food poked, cooked, probed, tested and eventually eaten. After organising who was going to sleep where and next to whom, the unanimous verdict was that we should take a short walk to the pub - after all, the purpose of our expedition was to assess how Foot & Mouth had affected the area, and naturally this includes local businesses!
Having exerted ourselves on the pool table, sampled the local Guinness (for some!) and watched Matthew's fruitless attempts at chatting up the barmaid, we staggered back to the tent in the dark. It wasn't long before we were all fast asleep.
The piercing, bloodcurdling scream woke us all from our peaceful slumber - well, all but the one who had screamed: Matthew.
Matthew was squirming and thrashing around in his sleeping bag as we all awoke in panic, prepared to run from that angry caretaker with the broom. When we realised there was no outside threat, we turned to Matt, who by now, was calmly asleep and snoring loudly. Five minutes later Matt awoke and innocently asked: "What's happening?"
A short interrogation produced the conclusion that Adam's foot had brushed past Matt's face while he was dreaming of being tied up (a sordid fantasy involving the barmaid I'm sure!) Consequently, he violently attacked the innocent Dan and screamed waking us all.
When later questioned, Matthew denied all knowledge claiming: "Apparently I screamed and attacked Dan whilst asleep."
After 20 minutes of reflection and hysterical laughter, we once again returned to the Land of Nod. The rest of the night passed uneventfully - well, that's if you ignore "The Great Beara Island Car Chase" at 3 a.m. but that's a different story.
...back...
To avoid the taunting of his "Girlie Trousers", Dan took refuge amongst the merry throng of grown-ups listening to the foot-tapping music in O'Sullivans. During a short lull in the music Dan was suddenly found quivering and trying to look inconspicuous under a bar stool.
The reason for his cowering demeanour stood, arms akimbo, framed in the doorway - a young, feisty yet pretty looking local colleen with a wicked glint in her eye. Ignoring Dan completely she strode purposefully over to Matthew, embraced him fiercely and planted a full-mouthed smacker of a kiss firmly on his lips. With a pop sounding like the de-corking of a rare vintage bottle of vin ordinaire, which even silenced the noisy hubbub of the crowded Family Bar, she whispered something Gaelic in Matthew's ear, turned smartly on her heel and swiftly departed into the dark street outside, leaving a totally bemused, glasses all fogged and toes curled up Chairman of the Unit swaying gently in her wake in the middle of the bar room floor. All remained hushed and still for a moment then the background banter gradually returned as the musicians struck up a lively jig.
Matthew's body was lowered gently back into his seat, his glasses removed carefully to reveal two equally fogged up eyes and cool libations administered to recall his senses from whence they had flown. Meanwhile Dan crept out from his refuge and the evening once more returned to normality.
...back...
Having spent 20 minutes attempting to attach a spinner to my fishing line I finally succeeded and I was able to cast out the spinner I had bought that day. Nearly as soon as I had cast it I felt a bite and started to reel in quickly.
When Adam finally unhooked the fish from the line we found out it was a Pollack. Two more followed, in quick succession and I knew I would be in for a busy night.
However, my night and my tackle box would be left in tatters after one fish devastated my dreams of a large catch. (The one that got away - the usual fishy tale!) A struggle with the huge beast left the contents of my tackle box strewn about the quayside. Adam told me that the fish that got away was three times the size of the other fish I had caught. (yeah yeah!)
In all the big fish took three of my spinners and very nearly drew my patience out through my ears. In total I caught five and a half (the half is the big one that got away) fish that night and I was still pleased especially as Phil caught nothing which I think left him gutted - just like the Pollack!
MICHAEL AKA STUBBY!
The biggest discovery of today was that despite his girly trousers, Dan could not put a whole packet of skittles in his mouth - although Richard ("Sheepy") can. From this we logically concluded that Sheepy has the bigger mouth - something we had previously hypothesised.
Feeling bold from his success, Sheepy later tried it with a packet of Alpen, but this resulted in a coughing fit and clouds of exhaled muesli.
Perhaps sheep should stick to grass.
Whilst the three hardcore dudes were attempting to scale Hungry Hill, everyone else was fishing.
Today wasn't Stubby's day - two spinners lost and zero fish caught. On the other hand, Phil reeled in a large cod and a similar sized mackerel. Dan was pressured into killing the fish with a rock - eventually flattening the head of the mackerel - oops, never mind.
It was later made into ten very tasty fishcakes by Rachael. Rachael and Sheepy also caught something "fishy" for tea - mussels! Uurgh!