When Irish Eyes Are Smiling, it’s because TK and me have been to The Emerald Isle…
Hello again Dear Readers.
We’ve been on the road again, TK and me and this time – for the first time – our destination was Northern Ireland.
The adventure began at 6am on a Monday morning, when, I admit, I’m rarely at my best. Alerted by the unseemly wake-the-neighbours roar of TK’s Jag, I grabbed my bag and jumped in before Mrs. Malc could do the cuddling / sloppy kisses routine that so alarms my esteemed colleague.
First stop? A proper full English at a service station on the M6. From there, it was Holyhead without another stop. The crossing was a good one; at least it would have been if TK hadn’t insisted on regaling passengers with his off-key rendition of ‘We Are Sailing’.
I don’t think the ship’s company was too impressed either, when TK (he hadn’t even had a drink) decided it’d be a spiffing wheeze to run along the deck from the direction of the bow of the ship, shouting ‘Iceberg!’ at the top of his voice.
But that’s Jag drivers for you.
He got his come-uppance though: Industrial quantities of Pinot Grigio were being freely lavished upon us punters and, although this cheeky little number is TK’s favourite drink (if you don’t include his bed time ‘Horlicks), he was forced to abstain, because he was driving! J
The bad news is that when we arrived at the hotel, dusty, thirsty and hungry, TK was suddenly ‘mad for it’, stretching the hospitality of our lovely hosts to the absolute limit… (We’ll gloss over that, ED.)
Time to be sensible: Newtownards, Downpatrick and Lisburn would be our ports of call. These are Northern Ireland’s premier seats of learning when it comes to plumbing, apparently. First, though, we had to meet up with our Tour Promoter, none other than our esteemed Irish agent, William Creane.
What can I say about William ‘Whiplash’ Creane that won’t get me into trouble, I wonder? Let it be said, though, that ‘Whiplash’ is, in no way, a reference to the infamous Madame Cynthia what’s-her-name. No. It’s all down to his driving. Imagine Animal from the Muppets behind the wheel of an F. I car on a country road full of potholes and kamikaze rabbits and you’re half way to getting the picture.
Now I’m no wimp, as you know. (I’m not a Jag Driver J). In fact, I’m an ex rugby player who’s been in many’s the ruck, if you get my drift. To use the local idiom, though, Whiplash scares the bejaysus out of me. As for TK, on arrival we half carried him into the bar and had to force-feed him with a solution of 50% Bushmills and 50% Diocalm. Through a baby’s bottle. (It wasn’t the best evening I’ve ever had).
Surprise, surprise: next morning, TK insists on driving us to Newtownards, just outside Belfast. The bad news for him, given the aftermath of last night’s life-saving medicinal cocktail, is that we have to carry all our samples and visual aids and bags and – hardest of all – ourselves, to a classroom on the first floor. It might as well have been half way up The Eiger, that’s how hard it was and that’s how fit we are. We decided there and then to have a few pints and a rag pudding that evening and see if we could fathom out why it was that we were both putting on weight and running out of puff.
The students were very nice – there were 14 of them and their tutors – but some looked so young that it made you wonder if their mums were waiting for them in an adjoining room. They start ’em early in Newtownards!
Only joking, all of them were Level Two students in full-time employment. We were really pleased that they were so impressed with our presentation; the feedback we got was excellent.
We had no time bask in the glory, though. We took off immediately and headed for Downpatrick. Here, we addressed a smaller group of just 7 students, but they were Level 3 and in their final year. They were all working with installers already, so they were more clued-up, you might say. Nevertheless, our presentation was well received and we were tested at the end by some challenging, intelligent questioning from the students.
We were pretty tired at the end of the day, so much so that we’d have happily been laid out beside St. Patrick, whose resting place is in the town. We’d sampled Irish hospitality and we hadn’t been disappointed!
That evening, over scampi, chips, mushy peas, Guinness and Pinot Grigio, (for you-know-who), we discussed the idea of using skimmed milk in our coffee from this day forward, for health reasons, of course. And so, to bed.
Next day, we were off to Lisburn and we had to take a back route, as there was a security alert affecting the main drag. I enjoyed the lovely countryside, ignoring TK, who was reddening, looking repeatedly at the Jag’s digital clock, and muttering ‘I’m late’ like some demented White Rabbit.
We weren’t late, but we were relieved to discover that today’s venue would be on the ground floor. The Lisburn audience was a great crowd and I really enjoyed bantering with them. They took part in the presentation by asking questions about the various applications of our pumps, installation criteria and why it’s important that installers stick closely to our advice for each pump. Excellent stuff.
When we’d done, a tea trolley arrived as if by magic and all of us – including the students – were treated to a hot sausage bap and a brew. Apparently this was a first, but we were assured that it in no way influenced the students’ decision to ask us back for other visits, on a regular basis, ideally every morning at 11.
All three of the colleges we visited belong to the same main college group. All agreed that our training presentation was beneficial to the colleges, the students and the tutors. In fact, they took our contact details to pass onto other plumbing tutors and indeed to the governing body controlling the colleges in Northern Ireland, no less. They are recommending that our training presentation should be rolled out across other colleges in Northern Ireland. Result!
Finally, I must say that our first visit to colleges in Northern Ireland was a great success. All welcomed both TK and me warmly, which was great. Thanks.
Mr. Whiplash, we salute you! Thank-you, William, for being a first class tour manager!
Anyway, here’s the ferry now, so it’s back to Holyhead and then home to Mrs Malc. Does life get any better than this?
Until next time, keep smiling
Your mate at Salamander
Big Malc
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