Crowley cross country: Tent origami and knickerbocker glory

The sound of birds wake me early on Wednesday morning . Living in Dublin City I'm more used to waking up to sounds of traffic , car horns and doors slamming , so it takes me a few groggy minutes to figure out what I'm hearing outside the tent.

As penance for the previous nights Guinness I decide to go for a run before my breakfast . I hop into the car and drive to end of Doolin pier , I park and start running back towards the village . The strong wind and rain blowing in off the Atlantic make for a chilly run , and I cut a particularly nippley figure as I huff and puff my way up the hill from the pier.

View from Doolin pier

Back at the campsite after a lovely hot shower I decide it's finally time to shave the greying beard that has been forming on my face since the previous Friday . Using my trusty Phillishave I start as usual at my left ear and begin working my way across to the other side. I reach the half way mark when my trusty Phillishave decides to stop working . Repeatedly pressing the on-off switch proves useless , shouting at it produces similar results . I could just plug it in to recharge but that would involve driving 300km to Dublin where the lead was safely stored in my bathroom cabinet . There was nothing for it but to walk up to the village to buy some razors. Normally a man with half a beard walking the streets cursing to himself would raise a few eyebrows , but in Doolin nobody bats an eyelid . I might use the half beard technique on future travels to gauge the mood of the locality.

Finally clean shaven I have to pack up the tent. In recent years the pop up tent has grown in popularity , it's big selling point being its simplicity to erect. Simply remove from the bag and it pops up fully formed , ready to be pegged down. What they don't tell you is that , similar to a cat , the tent is eager to escape from the confines of a bag and puts up an almighty struggle when trying to get it back in. I carefully read the instructions on how to fold it up, and watch an instructional video on YouTube to be sure. Armed with my newfound knowledge on tent origami I assume the stance of a Greek wrestler and launch myself at the tent. Several minutes of brutal combat later I have the tent locked into the bag , I still have no idea how I did it.

I have a quick lunch in Fitzpatrick's bar of hearty seafood chowder and soda bread and hit the road. I travel north through Lisdoonvarna into the heart of the Burren , the grass in the fields give way to rock the further north I travel , a stunning landscape , as beautiful as it is barren . I descend the aptly named Corkscrew Hill , an exhilarating drive .

the Burren

I turn right onto the R480 and pass by the Aillwee Caves , a favourite destination for school tours for many years . A series of deep underground caves famous for its stalagmites and stalactites formed over many thousands of years. I laugh as I recall the excitement of visiting the caves in primary school . A long bus journey , and the momentary fear when they turn out the lights in the cave for a few seconds , prompting screams and a few unfortunate smells to escape from the tiny explorers.

The road climbs for a few km's and I stop at the Poulnabrone Dolmen , a portal tomb dating back to Neolithic times , containing the remains of up to 22 adults and 6 children as well as weapons and personal items. It's believed to have been used as a ceremonial location well into the Celtic period. It's hard to contemplate what life must have been like in such unforgiving surroundings.

Poulnabrone Dolmen

I retrace my steps back onto the N67 and continue on through Kinvarra and Kilcolgan where I turn left for Galway.

Galway , " The City of the Tribes" considered the capital of the west and I think the friendliest city in Ireland. Galway has a very rich arts heritage and plays host to many festivals throughout the year . Tonight I'm gigging at Comedy Cocktails Galway but first I need to find some accommodation .

A quick search on Booking.com secures me a room in The BlackCat in Salthill on the outskirts of the city .

The BlackCat

The drive through Salthill brings memories flooding back of childhood holidays. Salthill was a favourite destination and I recall many happy days playing crazy golf with Dad and my brother Pat.

The leisure centre with its pool and huge water slide that runs outside the building was a favourite of ours and I'm sad to see it in such disrepair , damaged by flooding and generally looking unloved.

Salthill Leisure Centre

The BlackCat is very trendy looking Boutique Hotel with a tapas restaurant and wine bar doing a busy trade on the ground floor. I check in and am shown to my room . While the room is very small it's finished to a high standard and has the most comfortable bed I've ever encountered.

I get dressed for the gig and grab some dinner before heading into the city centre.

I have dinner in The Galleon Restaurant , an institution in Salthill serving hungry holidaymakers for over 45 years. I haven't been here for probably 25 years and it hasn't changed much in that time . It has an old world charm and is packed with families. As I look around at the happy dinners I feel a lump in my throat as it reminds me of so many happy times with my Parents , Dad always ordering a mixed grill and myself and Pat racing through dinner to get to desert, the Galleon's famous " knickerbocker glory".

the Galleon Restaurant

After dinner a quick taxi ride has me outside the venue Busker Brownes.

Busker Brownes Galway

I meet John and Declan who run Comedy Cocktails who as always make me feel very welcome. We go through the running order and I meet the other Comedians, Robbie Farrell and Connor Macdonagh Flynn. We exchange war stories of great gigs and horrible stage deaths as the crowd files in. The crowd are very young , including a large group of 18 year old Belgian lads who make me feel 100 years old.

The night passes quickly , the punters leave happy but I'm not happy with my performance. I feel I didn't do enough to engage the Belgian group and am annoyed with myself .

I have a rule that I allow myself 1 hour to feel bad about a gig if it doesn't go as planned , any longer than that is a waste, it's a rule I find hard to stick to though.

Afterwards myself , Declan and Connor go to the famous Roisin Dubh to grab a drink and dissect the night. I usually have to drive straight back to Dublin after gigs in Galway so it's nice to relax and have a chat with the lads.