Adding colour
A couple of weeks ago I met a friend for coffee down in the village.
It was very pleasant that day, as it was before The Cold set in.
We sat outside and supped our coffees and batted the breeze as the world passed by.
When we were leaving, we were having that last bit of a chat on the footpath that seems to be compulsory, when a car pulled up.
He was looking for directions.
I have said before that my village seems to be in some kind of no-man’s land where people can’t find their way around. It is nearly impossible for me to go out without being asked for directions to some obscure place.
This car wanted directions to some place that I knew was about thirty miles away, and there was no way I was going to give thirty miles of instructions, as he wouldn’t remember them anyway. I sent him up to the bogs.
My friend, who reads this site was amazed. “You sent them up to the bogs!” he exclaimed. “I always thought that was a joke?” I was a bit annoyed at this, as I always tell the truth here, and the idea that I was indulging in fiction was a bit of an affront.
I have been asked for directions several times since then, but this morning we entered new territory.
I was sitting having my first mug of tea of the day, and trying to wake up when the door bell rang. There was a bloke there with a parcel in his hand. I thought it was President Mugabe at first, but it was the colour that confused me. He was trying to deliver the parcel and was lost. Why he chose my door bell, I don’t know. I must have some ethereal sign hanging over my presence that says “This bloke knows where he is and were everyone else is”.
I sent him up the bogs.
He’ll add a bit of colour to the place.
He stopped me first as I was reversing into your driveway.. I sent him in to you in the hopes you’d invite him in for a nice cup of coffee!
He wasn’t totally unlike Denzel Washington,see, but I can see why that attraction would be lost on you.
Oh well. At least the bog’s better looking now.
So it must be a family thing? Usually I am first choice. Incidentally, your reference to coffee could be deemed to be racially offensive.
I like my men like my coffee. Black, strong and very very sweet.
Don’t tell TAT. He’s somewhat milky.
Now I know who was giving my husband directions when we were driving around Ireland three years ago and introducing it to our little ones. He kept asking people and telling me the directions were crazy. He must have met you Grandad! Then again, the miracle is that he asked directions at all – it’s a male problem generally – they don’t know how! 🙂
So tourists get shot and the lost are exiled to the bogs. Do they find their way out ?
some do – some don’t… a few have gone missing up there over the years.
Whatever about the tourist – he might find the bogs interesting, amusing or whatever it is that attracts them to our pissy country, but I feel for the delivery guy – have you considered what the lost time might do to his end-of-day report? You mean sod!
Tricia – It is another strange phenomenon of the area that it is mostly men who ask for directions. This is very unusual as they usually persist until they have truly lost themselves off their own bat. Personally, I’m not sexist and treat ’em all the same.
TT – Dorothy is one of the lucky survivors.
Dorothy – He shouldn’t have banged on my door when I was still not fully awake.
“Dorothy is one of the lucky survivors.” not true – I’m still lost in the bog – only now the bog has internet access so I’m using the internet to preserve my sanity – I think..
You should put a sign on your door – ‘No direction seekers’, beside the ‘No unsolicited mail’, ‘No beggers’, ‘No soul savers’ and ‘No persons at all actually’ signs.
You can take it with you when you trek to the village and wear it like a sandwich advert! Then you really won’t be bothered by anybody – I’d say.
Giving directions is half the fun of living in the countryside.
Pulling out in front of them with a slow-moving tractor, the other half.
Hurrah for bogs!
Dorothy makes some valid points there. You should not act so niggardly to the lost Grandad..
Dorothy – I thought you had found your way back! How many years have you been up there now? And stop calling me a sandwich.
Susan – What people like TT don’t understand is that visitors to the countryside not only expect this sort of thing: they actually love it. It is part of the charm. Survivors brag about it at posh dinner parties.
oh am here a long time now. I survive on a diet of ‘php’ and ‘mysql’ – with a little ‘css’ as a special treat.. which makes me think, to deter those who bang on your door when you’re not fully awake, you could try using your programming skills to code yourself an electronic sandwich board message –
<? if($time 20.00) echo “Knock Gently” } else { echo “Fuck off” } ?>
might work
p.s. that AJax edit comments thing is brilliant!
there, used it again..
still another 2 minutes and 14 seconds
Is this spamming? – ok I’ll stop now.
sorry forgot the ?
Remind me not to ask you ….I shall just invest in a sat nav, do they have The Bogs on them ?
Dorothy – Do I have to start debugging people’s comments now? You left out a curly brace and a proper condition so your code wouldn’t work.
Write out the following 100 times –
actually that happened during one of my ‘edits’ it should have read:
> 8.00 OR < 20.00 but WP ate it up somehow – and did again just now, perhaps it thinks it’s a hacker inject or something.
Dorothy – Stop trying to write malicious code on my site. I have launched nuclear attacks on countries for less. Just in case – what are your geo-coordinates up in the bog?
Grandad,
I don’t believe Dorothy is really Dorothy. The real Dorothy is patron of the gay community and doesn’t do aggressive stuff.
On the other hand, I was doubtful about reports of tourists missing in the bogs of Co Wicklow . . .
You know where that yellow brick road leads to, don’t you Ian? Grandad does anyway and sends all the tourists there..
Useful things, bogs. When we first moved here, our vet was surprised to see us bring a dog in to him. Apparently, he told us, the locals usually bang the offending animal on the head, chuck it in the bog, and pop to the ISPCA for another one. Although he did mention that we might prefer the lough – living so close to the boat road and all….
“what are your geo-coordinates up in the bog?” crikey, now there ye have me.
I get lost all the time, once when driving to Sligo I stopped for a coffee break in Mullingar and when I came out of the restaurant drove BACK THE WAY I CAME for half an hour before I noticed ‘Dutch Furniture’ – funny, I thought, there’s another one of those the other side of Mullingar, I passed it ages ago!
Susan:
We do the same thing here in Vermont except we make sure to hook a loaded manure spreader to the 3 point beforehand. Works real slick if them what’s behind us get out of line (especially if the car is a convertible with the top down).
Grandad:
“Down the road a piece you’ll come to a wrought iron bridge. About a half a mile before that bridge you’ll want to take a left.” A fine example of genuine Green Mountain directions given to any tourist that needs ’em. The original of course is “You can’t get there from here”. Some of the original Vermonters were Irish I’d imagine.
And could you folks keep your code out of the comments please? It’s giving me a rash.
When I lived in northern Cuba, also called Miami Florida by some ignorant people, I always found it amusing to tell European tourists that all the alligators were very tame. You can walk right up to them and pet them. I’d even offer to hold their valuables while they did. It worked pretty good on most Yankees to.
Ian – You should learn to trust all you read here. I tell it as it is. The unvarnished truth, that others try to hide.
E Mum – Your vet is a wise man. Bogs can have a voracious appetite. I have seen them swallow an entire double decker bus without so much as a burp.
Dorothy – Have you ever thought of going into the taxi business? You’d make a fortune.
Kirk M – “If I wanted to go there, I wouldn’t start from here” 😉
Jim C – That sounds like a nice
businessidea. Have you got any spare alligators you could ship over?I do feel the same, that I always seem to be the first person people pick for asking things, whether they be directions (anywhere), items in shops I don’t work in (Dunboyne), or money/change (city center late at night).
While I am polite and try and brush them away as quickly as I can – sometimes I really do just want to say “Shag off and leave me alone!”. I thought my not-so-nice demeanor and fact I’m nearly always too engrossed in whatever random thought is going through my head was enough to put people off…
I was walking along the Quays in Dublin one day when a pedestrian asked me for directions to waterford…….I pointed her in the general direction of Ringsend.
Oh and look up there, you missed Moon out. He’ll sulk y’know.
TheChrisD – The trick is to be as nice and friendly as possible before sending them off to the local abatoir or wherever. They are more likely to believe you.
AnFearBui – You did the right thing. Did you send them to Ringsend Sewage Farm?
Moon – I nearly missed you up there. Just as well I noticed before E Mum started bitching. I don’t know if SatNavs work up there. It’s pretty remote so I doubt there are satellites.
You should send Mugabe to the bog, and leave him there.