Where Was Your Worst Holiday In Ireland?

madmaggie wrote: »

A wet week in Enniscrone.

I can beat that. Two wet weeks in Enniscrone.
It rained all day, every day. The parents had rented a house. I had started my accountancy articles, had no money, and two weeks annual leave.

A canoeing holiday in Wexford in 1964. The two idiots running this had no clue what they were doing. It was dangerous and wet and they were unpleasant. Really horrible.

Our honeymoon was a little bit disastrous.

We took the car down on a beach - OK I did - and then got it stuck with the tide rising - Had to pay some farmer £20 (lot of money back then) to tow us out. "Ya couldn't have been too fond a walkin" - £20 and rip the pi$$ while you're at it.

Then went down to Lisdoonvarna. The hotel was like something out of Psycho - thankfully for a bit of balance I didn't pick it. We left after 5 minutes and never went back .

Mosney. That is all.

failinis wrote: »

2 weeks in Moville.
Its a lovely place, I like going there on weekends and a summer day but 2 weeks is far too long.

Moville had a guaranteed Blue Rinse Brigade from Scotland for years "the Scotch Visitors", and when they died off the town hadn't a clue how to get more in.

Menas wrote: »

Mosney. That is all.

Twinned with Trabolgon.

Uncle Ben wrote: »

Twinned with Trabolgon.

The Ugly twins!

5 days in a caravan in Strandhill when I was 11 around 1982. It was our first holiday in several years and out last family one as the recession kicked in big time. It lashed for most of the time.

The caravan beside us had some Irish family who were back from Australia on holidays, the son was my age but a complete psycho. because the rain was such a change for him he wanted to play outside all the time, which my mother insisted I do in the fcuking freezing cold and wet. The kid was just a total oddball, makes me nervous just thinking about him now.

There were a couple of arcades, we got enough money to have three goes on a machine (probably 10p each) every day. There was a Pacman game which some fat 18 year old cnut used to hog all day. If you got in before you, he'd nudge your elbow to make sure you lost the game so he'd get a shot on it. The pool table was permanently occupied by some shower of teenage pr!cks so that was a no go. Essentially you spent most of the time standing around looking at other people play games until he rain dropped off enough so you could dash back to the caravan.

The oul fella started to go a bit stir crazy being cooped up. One of the games in the arcade was a punch bag game, it looked like this. He used to stick 10p into it and hammer it so hard the whole machine would wobble. Just out of pure rage. I remember the guy who ran the arcade told him to take it easy...the oul fella had "words" with him.

Awful awful time. I always associate the song "Everyday is Like Sunday" with that holiday. Armageddon would have been a relief.