Features
Goodbye to Summer
The traditional saying 'one visitor doesn't make a summer' frequently proves itself to be one of life's few certainties. Summer is the time when city dwellers decide it's time for a bit of country air.
Believing a quick foray into rural Ireland to visit their 'country cousins' would have significant educational value for their offspring, they bribe their continentally named reproductions away from their computer games with cases of coke and cartons of crisps. Then, throwing their VCR, DVD and TV into the back of their green four by four, they head out of the city. Only when they are within an hour of disturbing your peace do they bother to ring to say they are coming and if you're sure it's okay.
'You hadn't anything on?' they ask in mock politeness even though they never cease telling you that it's beyond their comprehension how you can live in a watery backwater where nothing ever happens. 'You must miss the theatre' they say despite the fact that the last cultural event they themselves attended was a matinee of Cinderella.
'We don't want to disturb your routine' they lie as they ask for extra pillows, tell you that little allergic Jeremy only takes soya milk, and ask if you'd mind hanging up the new outfit the wife picked up in Brown Thomas - explaining at the same time that they don't except to get much opportunity to wear it 'down here.' That city dwellers see rural Ireland as being 'down' rather then 'up' indicates a deep rooted prejudice and feeling of locational superiority.
Several bored children, later when they have finally recovered from their amazement at your meagre video collection, the tiny size of your TV screen and the startling fact that you don't have a DVD player, the time comes for the inevitable walk in the country.
'Walk' is too small a word to describe their brave sortie into the wilds of nature. Not simply a case of stepping outside the back door, their elaborate preparations for the great outdoors make those of Himalayan climbers appear amateurish by comparison. Children are wrapped in endless layers of designer clothing and their ever- so -caring parents stuff their pockets with chocolate bars and several pounds of fruit lest their little darlings get peckish on the way.
Anxious to derive maximum educational benefit from their excursion, their parents will request details of the different types of cattle to be seen. This they will instantly regret when rewarded with a graphic description of the difference between a bullock and a bull. And, when the first child steps into a warm brown substance, which their liberal parents will identify as 'animal poo,' the walk will be quickly terminated.
Small wonder that those 'back to school' ads are greeted with such joy in rural Ireland.
Gillian Westbrook has been appointed to the new position of
General Manager with IOFGA. Coming from a background in the regulatory area...
