The Great 'Halloween' Explore ..... (Pt 2)

If ye've just read the prelude to this? Good for you.

If ye haven't? Why not fuck off back to page one of this entire Blog. Read the Profile and get yeself a clue what goes on around here? This isn't a news paper. Something ye can open where ye fancy and just start reading. Well ..... ye can, I s'pose? But, do that and ye'll miss a Lot. Some great shit back there. Much of it also laying the foundations for what ever might come next.

Anyway; Head lights swept across my window .....

Off we went. Dean O' slyly asking me what footwear I'd brought. I reassuring him that I had my gum boots on. They being more comfortable than my waders. I assumed there'd be some walking to do. And he'd mentioned big vehicle tracks churning the mud about the place too. Weather we've had this year? Regular, overland vehicle movement could form some Seriously deep shit!

On the way, I enthused about my new Pot Bellied Stove. I'd bought it that day. To replace the clapped our Range in the kitchen. Dean was so buoyant that I'd agreed to come, he said he'd pick it up for me and fit it, free of charge. We'll see about That!

On we drove. Sign posts to 'Balligodknows' flashing by. Through villages and towns. Up a little main street. Straight into a fucking Gard, standing there, in the middle of the road, with a flash light! Eh?!

" Have ye ye driving licence, sir? Thankyou. Where ye heading? 'Just up through the next place ye can think of'? Fine. And, who's that in there with ye? 'Ah, Just a friend'? Fine. Ok, sir. Have a good night. "

Thank Fuck he didn't say he had " Ditch Shitter " in the motor with him! That could've led to some closer questioning!

Anyway; Big Night Out, in Eire. 'Halloween'. I guess we might have been a local farmers son, 'borrowed' Dads van and driving it, full of pissed up youngsters, to some party, somewhere. Nice change to see the Garda making themselves 'useful' round here.

Shortly afterwards, we found the gate. " This is it! " Cried Dean O'. " This is where we came ..... in ... ". He sort of tailed off as he took in the fucking great chain and padlock! That hadn't been there before! My self preservation alarm bells started ringing! Time for a bit of caution!

Never mind. There were a few ways into this place. Dean O' wasn't to be beaten yet. We drove on. Down here. Round this side, somewhere, there was another lane in.

And That must be it! See? The cut stone wall? Only a place like a convent would have had those around here. And our convent definitely had them. In we go!

Or not. Steel fucking gate. Load of young cattle behind the fence. Friesian cattle?! WTF?! Listen; Where you are, maybe 'All' cowz are black and white, with fucking great udders slopping about? Around here, we breed Beef cattle. Right mongrels. Any colour ye care to mention, on the outside. Meat inside's all that matters. 'Strange'.

And, what about that fucking great tractor standing there? Nothing at all unusual about that. Weirder Not to have seen one. But, still the sense on unease seemed to step up a little.

Ever onwards. This place did have at least three ways in. And, fuck me! Just look at that Gate House! That's got to be The Main Entrance! The Gate House, built in a style reminiscent of a little chapel. The expensive, fancy looking fencing. The 'religious' (?) looking symbols in the walls?

Yes. And the fuck off great, new and very clear sign blaring, " So and so Dairy. Private Property! Do Not Enter! " Ohhhhh Fuck! And here's Dean' O, driving us straight in there! This outfit owns the whole fucking acreage. They have valuable livestock on it. Their boys get all over it, in four wheel drives.

Few more yards? Another fucking sign: " If You MUST Enter ... Phone ..... " That just about did it for me! Like; They've already warned us not to come down this god forsaken track. Now they're warning us that there's, potentially, some mad old cunt with a shotgun at the other end, nervy as all hell about Anyone who turns up before his fucking phone rings? No Fucking Way!

Still Dean O's creeping forward. Though by now, with me trying to get under the passenger seat and making weird, high pitched squealing sounds ~ bit like a Guinea Pig, actually. Only from the wrong end ~ even He's starting to break a sweat and feel the doubt.

I think it was the last sign we approached that finally broke even Dean's youthful will; " Mad Old Cunt With A Shotgun At The Other End. Ring His Phone, Or Else! " That about did it! We were out of there. Fuck This for a game of intrepid nosers!


As we sped off homewards, it was Dean's phone that rang, as it happens. His mate from Dublin. Calling to ask how it was going. It wasn't going, of course. Mission Aborted and Returning To Base!

Made me laugh; " If that was me, " He'd said, " I'd have gone Straight over that first gate! ". Oh no ye wouldn't, son. Especially after Dean O' had mused that there had been empty 12 Bore cartridges lying about the place!

Fuck That ....!