By Ted Crowley

Katmandu, Kilmacanogue and Bourg-Madame are much the same thing; gateways to great mountains.

The phone rang. I snapped, "Who in the hell is it now!?" 

I was doing a lively piece on the solid merits of bricks in the construction of public conveniences. Loos are the big news in Greystones these times.

I recognized the attractive female voice on the phone. It goes with an equally attractive face and person:

"We’re on the Quill Road, I’ve got four young lads in the car. They’re dying to climb the Sugarloaf, but we’re lost!"

Putting on my best, west of the N11, mountain voice, I said, "Turn around, go up the Rocky Valley, leave Sweeney's behind you, keep left, stick with the mountain, up the New Long Hill, to the old filling station..."

Seconds later, "We’ve passed the Roadstone quarry, where’s the filling station?"

"Ruined, all gone, like the filling stations of Greystones. Take the first left after the quarry, and go as far as the car park."

Soon again, "Where’s the car park?"

Then I remembered, "Also ruined, and all gone"

"Can I park safely on the grass verge?"

"Oh, I don’t know!"

"There’s lots of glass on the road."

"Well then, don’t park there!"

"The French lads are fresh off the Pyrenees, Pic Carlit and the Pass de Puymorens, they’re jumping to do the Sugarloaf."

"Do you see a little road on your right, a red sign, and a tiny house?"

"Yeah!"

"Pass it by, carry on down to the first farm gate on your right."

"O’T on the wall?"

"That’s it!"

"Drop in and ask Annabelle and Kevin if they’d mind you parking in their yard."

"Oh God! I couldn’t do that! Too cheeky!"

"They’re toppers, get on with it!"

Her phone being still open, I could hear Annabel making them rural Co. Wicklow welcome, saying, "...And when you get back, we’ll have a cup of tea."

Hours later, as I was beginning to see the virtues of stainless steel in the construction of public conveniences, the phone rang again, and the same attractive voice, "Oh we’ve had such a wonderful day. Wonderful! The best day of the holidays, and do you know what?"

"I do, but go on!"

"When we got back, Annabel had tea ready, piping hot tea, and freshly baked fairy cakes waiting for us."

"Ask the two French chaps if they got piping hot tea and fairy cakes at the foot of Pic Carlit?"

From the back seat of the car I overheard a tired little voice saying, "Non Monsieur, merci beaucoup!"
 
 

Ted Crowley can be reached crowleyted@eircom.net.