One man's struggle to come to terms with leaving Wigan.

måndag, juni 28

Had a great time at the end of last week. Sam and I (without Isobel for the first time) went over to Ireland for the wedding of our friend Dave, who we knew in Stockholm.

It all started badly. Being cheap, we'd opted to travel Ryanair, which is one of those no-frills airlines you hear about. They fly from Beauvais Airport, which they rather optimistically call Paris, but which is in fact in the wilds of Normandy near Rouen. So it's a 90 minute bus ride.

We got there OK, but the plane was full of Northern Irish kids, who only seemed able to fight, shout and discuss whether they hated the British or the Irish more. Nice.

Then I found my phone doesn't work in Ireland (roaming apparently being something the French feel you should have to ask for).

Then the guy we were waiting for didn't turn up ( either he'd misunderstood or I'd said we'd be there an hour later) so we couldn't give him a lift, then the car was covered in dents, was missing the petrol flap and had a slow puncture. Which is just one of the reasons I won't be renting from Hertz again. The other is the fact that, with them, the final bill always comes to about twice what you thought you'd agreed when you booked.

But everything else was great. the church was lovely, the priest was bilingual (handy since the Bride was Brazilian) and the reception was alcoholic.