mdm

It was a whore of a night. The kind of night where a rain soaked wind blows a jeep sideways on the N11 and the heater mists the windscreen so that you nearly plough into the orange cones that have diverted traffic into Carlow town. The Sat Nav was on cocaine.   She tried and tried to bring us in ever decreasing circles around the town - always within spitting distance of the theatre we are bound for, but then frustratingly away, again and again as she shouts turn left, turn left.  She led us a merry dance in a hurricane down roads that are named for Pollerton, Staplestown Graigculle n and Dublin , and streets that are named for Tullow and Burrin. I know this town. Since I was a child I have been driven up the roads from Wexford to my Mothers home in “ The Crescent” named for Killian . Oylegate, Enniscorthy, Bunclody, Kildavin, Ballon, and Carla recited like a Mantra as we drove at speed over potholes you could lose a wheelbarrow in, rattling around unrestraine