Second chance
I grew up in a one horse town, where the horse is a donkey and the donkey is dead. For 18 years I dreamed about getting the hell out of the place and into a bigger, wider world where there were things like traffic lights and cappuccinos - the sort of things other people take for granted when they don't live in a neglected fishing village on the coast of Norn Iron where the only thing to do is drink 'til you're drowning if the sea doesn't get you first.

I grew up with everyone knowing my business. Nothing passed unnoticed in that place. The height of towering ambition was to marry someone who wasn't your cousin and build on your dad's back field. My aim was to get my driving licence and fuck off into the sunset, not that driving west would get me further than the edge of the Atlantic.

For anyone furious that civil liberties are being eroded in our CCTV society, I can assure you that London is liberatingly anonymous when compared to the village gossip network. Where I'm from, if they have no dirt on you they'll make it up. What else is there to do to pass the time when the 11 pubs are shut and there's only three buses a day out of the place?

I left and I swore I'd limit my returns. I'd go there dutifully once or twice a year to see the parents and give the neighbours something to talk about. Then, a couple of years ago, I went back because I was setting off with an old friend on a charity trip. We coincided the launch with the village carnival. I watched as my mate talked to the people we'd grown up with. I saw folks from my past step forward, unsolicited, to hand us cheques and equipment, cash by the handfuls, and to wish us well. Their generosity was overwhelming and their kindness was contagious. The gossip network that had terrorised my youth was the same one that spread the word that there was a good cause to be supported. I stood with a collecting bucket at the tractor show, knee deep in churned up mud amidst 30 amateur line dancers, listening to appalling country and western as familiar faces came up to talk to us, congratulate us and give us words of encouragement. I felt like I'd stumbled into The Waltons. We drove out of town with a thousand people clapping and cheering us on our way and for the first time ever I was really proud of where I came from.

It is a shit hole though. But it's not as bad as the next village over. They don't even have a pub.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 10:11, 14 replies)

this is much better than most entries this week
well done
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 10:27, closed)

Agreed
*click*
(ConanTroutman thought we would free the vulture, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 13:47, closed)

Aw, I had a little lump in my eye reading that.
*clicky*
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 11:00, closed)

Superb
Wonderfully written, genuinely charming, relevant and even a slight twist at the end.
So much better than the usual rants.
(Kliper Filllets Getting noticed by twats on the internet since, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 12:44, closed)

How lovely.
And instead of marrying your cousin, you opted for a midget, (albeit a very handsome one) : )
( girlinthehole, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 13:02, closed)

It was that or someone with six toes.

( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 13:19, closed)

Farming Accident?
I've got all 10 toes still.
Most of them on my feet as well.
(Kliper Filllets Getting noticed by twats on the internet since, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 13:23, closed)

Six on each foot
and an extra chromosome.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 13:26, closed)

Y or Z ?
Having said that, on my trips around Ireland I've never thought they looked like inbreds, like you get in some of the more backwater places in England.
(Kliper Filllets Getting noticed by twats on the internet since, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 13:37, closed)

But were you ever in Cavan?
Even Kerry people make jokes about Cavan.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 13:42, closed)

Most places on the Ring of Kerry, plus Waterford area.
I'll have to make it a destination when I'm over there next.

The trouble is, I'm a keen photographer, and I keep stopping around every corner because the scenery is so wonderful around there. Means I don't get very far!
(Kliper Filllets Getting noticed by twats on the internet since, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 13:48, closed)

Nice little story that
have a little clicky
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Wed 4 Nov 2009, 23:14, closed)

The next village doesn't have a pub?
It's Ireland FFS. How does somewhere in Ireland not have a pub?
( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Thu 5 Nov 2009, 1:41, closed)

In Norn Iron there are a number of "dry towns"
(usually predominantly populated by Free Presbyterians) where drinking is considered to be EVIL or CATHOLIC or something else they fear.

They chain up the swings in the park on Sundays too.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 5 Nov 2009, 8:46, closed)