Things were really beginning to get out of hand in the back of the car. The drink consumed in Roscommon had tipped several of the crew over the edge of decency and self control. Boisterous singing now became screaming and for fifteen minutes Bones and Brian gave a non-stop running commentary on an imaginary horse race.

The sight of Sligo town provoked mixed emotions for the less intoxicated members of the team - on one hand it provided a respite from the insanity of the backseat but on another, it meant even more alcohol! The Gateway Bar is one of those sterile, modern gastro-pubs whose interior looks like it was ordered from Argos. Alcohol and fatigue induced confusion meant that we forgot to order a Guinness for Bones, thus leaving him with just 10 minutes to sink a whole pint! The usual argument over who got to sit in the front seat for the next leg of the journey was particularly heated as we left, since the painful experience of the last 30 miles was all too clear in the memory!