An Irish New Year (probably)

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Off The Grid with Luke Coleman – Our man in Iraq

I spent New Year’s Eve and a few days in Cork, Ireland. Obviously we go to press way before we land in front of you, so I’m going to take a few guesses at how my break has turned out.

NYE – Landed in Dublin, and was picked up by Mairéad and her mates. Immediately swallowed temptation to use Irish colloquialisms and broadened Gloucestershire brogue to Forest of Dean parody levels in attempt to not be that guy.

Drove to rented pad in Leap (pronounced ‘Lep’), stopped at village along the way, comprised of three houses, six pubs and a horse. 6 Guinness before Leap, and it really does taste different here. Petted an Irish Wolfhound.

Dumped bags in house, swam in estuary to ocean. Kept telling myself that I am comfortable in my body as three lads with four grams of fat between them swam to Newfoundland and back before tea.

Into town, there was a massive shindig, spectacular pissup. 

NYD – Found an old lady with a portable sauna near a river. Actually did feel good in my own skin.

2 Jan – Blarney Castle. Last time I was there I was 4 years old. Needed a recharge. Raised a large Bushmills to chatting 12 months more shit in 2019.

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