Category: Uncategorized

Vera Hartland was a well-known local councillor in Cobh back in the days when we had an Urban District Council. She lived in St. Patricks Square at the top of East Hill with her brother Ernie. She operated a small sweetshop from her back garden, but as children, we were half afraid to go in there because she could eat you alive.

Miss Hartland as she was known (only the very brave dared to address her as Vera) was famous for her sharp tongue and could be very direct at council meetings. On one occasion in 1960, she was unhappy with a decision the county council had taken.

She took it up at a meeting of the Southern Committee of Cork County Council, and asked the Chairman, Mr. M J Corry, T.D. for an explanation. She said the chairman did not have the power to do this on his own. “I challenge him to give the facts so that you may judge him here with me.” she said.

Fighting talk and she was well able to fight for the town. She didn’t always get her way, but she wasn’t beyond banging a few heads together. It’s a pity we don’t have Vera around today because it seems to me that Cobh has become a forgotten land. And has been for some time.

Back in 2008 I wrote a letter to the Irish Examiner complaining about the rising cost of motor tax and the poor condition of our roads. Something I had been banging on about for a while. I had just bought a new car in 1997 when I hit a pothole in east Cork. The car developed a permanent limp as a result.

The road into Cobh back then was in bad shape too, littered with bumps, humps, depressions, potholes and general uneven surfaces. In fact, it was difficult to find a stretch of roadway that was free of blemishes all of which were contributing to a reduction in the shelf life of my car. I finished my letter by looking for accountability given that the grit and liquid tar system for filling potholes wasn’t fit for purpose.

Fast forward to today, 28 years later, and sadly that same letter could still apply to the condition of the road network in Cobh. I was driving home from my early morning swim recently when my car went into a pothole with a thump. A little later after dropping my wife to work, I forgot about it and went into the damn thing again.

Putting four new tyres on any car isn’t cheap, so I was rightly peeved at the prospect of having them damaged. The roads around Cobh do nothing to extend their life expectancy and if you drive up the hills coming into Cobh, you will notice an amount of hardened concrete on the road surface that has come from overloaded cement trucks.

They spill part of their load on steep inclines, then leave it to solidify and to wear out our tyres. This has been going on for years and I have never seen or heard of any company being compelled to clean up their mess.

A spin around the town will reveal a further network of poor, damaged and uneven road surfaces and it got so bad recently that many took to social media to voice their concerns. One contributor on Facebook complained that the roads were crying out for resurfacing but that filling the holes with a bucket of tarmac doesn’t work.

Another complained about the state of the roads and footpaths in Cobh and said it was a waste of saying anything about it. Another contributor raised an important point. She wondered about the accountability and questioned how the contracts for road repair were awarded. She also asked who was responsible for signing off on the work done by the contractors and who was accountable when the work wasn’t up to scratch? Very valid questions.  

In fairness to two local councillors, they took to social media to reply as they regularly do. They are both easily contactable and they make themselves available to the public and always respond to issues raised. I have no doubt they voice our concerns at their monthly meetings too, but I can’t help wondering if anyone is listening to them.

But what really bothered me was that they both fully agreed with the complaints. They also agreed that the situation was unsatisfactory but surprisingly, both admitted they were helpless to do anything about it.

One said,” We need the velocity patcher to come into the area and do a proper job but unfortunately this is the procedure all over the county and I can totally understand people’s frustration and will speak to them again today.”

The other commented “Agree fully and all local councillors keep raising this. Unfortunately, this is the procedure for fixing potholes and it’s a country wide issue. It doesn’t work but will keep raising the issue to seek improvement in the methods of repair.”

And this is where I get confused. If it’s known that the process for fixing potholes is flawed and it’s also known that it doesn’t work, then why the hell are we not changing the process? It seems to me that raising the issue month after month with no prospect of change falls in line with Einstein’s description of insanity.

When Minister for Transport, Eamon Ryan announced an investment programme for regional and local roads in 2023, he said “It makes more sense to protect and repair our roads quickly rather than letting them fall into more expensive disrepair.” True, but if the process for repairing roads is broken, then we’re just wasting money. May as well fill the potholes with cash.

If only we still had Vera.

I go swimming early in the morning several times a week in our local Coral Leisure Centre. It was recommended to me by my surgeon following back surgery. Getting up at 6.15am on a dirty, wet, cold winter’s morning is no fun but the benefits of the swim make it worthwhile. The back stretches out and sets me up for the day. It’s not all plain sailing though.

I find it difficult to get changed in the cubicles because I’m not as flexible as I was previously and putting on a pair of pants while trying to keep the legs of the trousers off the wet floor is a tricky manoeuvre. Socks present another complication but for every problem there is a solution.

I wear shorts and flip flops, or sliders as they’re sometimes called, going to the pool and it makes getting dressed a lot easier. On my way home I often call into a shop, and I sometimes get some strange looks. I also get a bit of slagging, especially if it’s a cold day but it’s always good natured.

I wear shorts for most of the year and as soon as the weather improves, I’ll be into them until the winter comes calling again. I spend a good bit of time away too and one of the things I love most about life in Cyprus is being able to live in t-shirts, shorts and sliders. Dressing up for a formal occasion out there just means wearing a decent pair of shorts.

I have never been interested in fashion or brand labels, so the uncomplicated dress code suits me fine, but it seems my dress sense is being challenged. There are some who say that men of a certain age should keep their legs covered except in the privacy of their own home. If that were true it would have dire consequences for me, so it called for some urgent research.

Liz Hodgkinson, a British journalist and blogger, wrote a piece called ‘Old men shouldn’t wear shorts.’  She complained that at the slightest hint of sun, you see something that, quite honestly, should never be glimpsed in polite society or even impolite society – old men in ancient shorts.

She said the oldies openly parade their spindly, white, veiny legs on the streets, on trains, in pubs and restaurants, and even in the theatre without any shame. One 70-something friend, justifying his urge to put on shorts, said, ’We get over-excited when the sun comes out.’

Hodgkinson said, “Well, you might get excited but we, the poor onlookers, don’t. Quite honestly, we don’t know where to put our eyes, even if we’re the same age. You never see old women in shorts – we have far too much self-respect.”

Her final piece of advice was, “So, seniors, do us a favour – no shorts, please, ever – except perhaps on the beach. Admit it, you just haven’t got the legs, or even the face, for them anymore. And if you really, really can’t resist the urge, at least buy some new, knee-length shorts and put in some time at the tanning salon first.”

Well, I qualify for free travel next month so she might be talking about me, so I sought professional advice. I turned to Mr. Porter, an online only luxury clothing business. They say the answer to whether grown men should wear shorts depends on who you ask.

In years gone by, men’s shorts were frowned upon in all but the most casual of settings. In his 1964 treatise on style, ABC Of Men’s Fashion, Sir Hardy Amies wrote that a man should “never wear shorts except actually on the beach or on a walking tour.” Others said shorts should only be worn on the tennis court.

Times have changed and shorts are now more socially acceptable, but they advise that care should still be taken when selecting the right pair to suit your body shape. Shorts might look out of place at some venues too so it’s important to be aware of your surroundings unlike the poor guy in the States.

Bill was presented with a basket filled with assorted gifts by his sister-in-law on his birthday on behalf of his godchild. A book, a CD, a bag of blue tortilla chips, a large jar of salsa, a baseball cap and pair of black shorts. The shorts were a strange choice as he wasn’t known as a shorts man. A few weeks later though he was glad of them when he got an invitation to a Hawaiian themed pool party.

He rooted out the black shorts and a t-shirt and headed to the party. He was greeted by a friend who pointed to the Ralph Lauren logo on the shorts, something he never noticed himself. She saw that the logo was fuzzy, so she whispered to him that the shorts were inside out and back to front. He rushed to the bathroom, sorted himself out and returned to the party.

He soon got into the swing of things and pranced about for the rest of the evening in his new shorts. He attracted lots of attention and was delighted with his new image. He had a great time and couldn’t wait to tell his sister-in-law that his shorts were a big hit.

She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about until he reminded her about the basket of goodies. Then it dawned on her. She started laughing and when he told her about having them on backwards, she was in hysterics. There were tears in her eyes from laughing at which point he said he didn’t realise it was that funny.

When she was able to catch her breath again, she told him the truth. The shorts were actually a pair of underpants.

I learned something new that may be of benefit to our retired members particularly those who are partial to a bit of foreign travel and need to take a flight to get to their destination. I got the following advice from a consultant in the Mater Private Hospital today, so the source is genuine.

I always associated Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) or blood clots with long haul flights but that’s not the case apparently. My consultant recommended wearing flight socks or compression socks for flights over three and a half hours in length. That’s pretty much covers many of our regular hot spots and certainly applies to the “Irish Cypriots” of which there are many.

He says that our legs swell on flights at the best of times and that puts pressure on the veins which over time could interfere with the circulation. He stressed the importance of keeping hydrated during flights too.

People who have had surgery for prostate cancer or suffer from gout have thicker or stickier blood, which is more prone to clotting and, in some cases, it may be appropriate to get an injection before taking a long-haul flight.

Clotting can also be inherited or could come from chemicals which some of us have within the blood stream that we’re not even aware of, because they can only be discovered with a specific blood test.

It cost me €250 for this advice and I’m going to take it. I hope I have recalled it accurately and I pass it onto you for what it’s worth. Basically, it might be no harm to have a chat with your GP before your next trip. Cheers.

I wrote a piece not so long ago about an experience my wife had in the emergency department of the Mercy University Hospital in Cork. She ended up there last August after she fell and broke her collarbone while playing tennis. The treatment she received was far from what we expected.

We arrived at the hospital at about 8.45pm and Gaye was seen by a triage nurse who suspected the collar bone was broken. She was asked to take a seat in the waiting area and despite being visibly in distress and shivering with the cold, that’s where she remained until about 4.15am. Almost nine hours since she had fallen and over seven hours since she had arrived in the hospital.

Nobody came to check on her. The waiting area wasn’t crowded but things were moving slowly. At around 4.15am we were called to another area where a doctor checked Gaye’s injury and sent her for an x-ray. She was discharged soon after that.

It’s hard to blame the staff. They’re under a lot of pressure and working under trying conditions. I was very critical of the treatment she received at the time, and I stand over everything I said in my criticism of the Health Service Executive (HSE). The problems within the HSE are well documented.

The Organisation for Economic Development and Co-operation (OECD) in an assessment of the health system last year concluded that healthcare in Ireland suffers from widespread inefficiencies, elevated costs and fragmented governance.

That’s plain to see but it’s only fair to highlight improvements in the system too when you see them, like those in the emergency department in the Cork University Hospital (CUH). That was our experience when Gaye presented there recently.

She was having some issues related to her original injury, so her GP referred her to the CUMH for tests. As soon as we arrived, we noticed the pod system. When we entered the hospital, we were given a ticket and shown to a seat in a pod in front of the triage area.

A few minutes later, she was called to give her details and shortly after that she met the triage nurse. Things progressed quickly then, and we were soon on the move into the Emergency Department proper where she was placed in another pod. There are about 55 of these things as far as I could tell.

For those who haven’t seen them, they are basically small cubicles with glass on three sides, and a seat to accommodate one person. The patient’s name is written on a whiteboard in the nurses, station alongside their pod number so gone are the days when nurses wandered around crowded waiting areas trying to locate patients. Now they know exactly where their patients are at all times.

The place was a hive of activity. It looked as if every pod was in use and when one was vacated, it didn’t stay empty for long. Nurses, doctors, porters, cleaners and other support staff were constantly on the move. It was hectic and while it looked chaotic there was a calm efficiency to the place.

Gaye had a number of tests including an MRI, so she disappeared for a couple of hours. When she returned, she took her place back in her pod and the doctor who had been dealing with her came to visit.

The MRI had taken longer than normal, and he apologised for the delay. He told her she was just unfortunate because they had a run of medical emergencies at the same time who required immediate attention, so she fell to the back of the queue. That’s as it should be. The most seriously ill should receive priority treatment and she understood that. No problem.

She wasn’t in her pod long when a trolly arrived with a lunch box for each patient and a bottle of water. Later on in the afternoon, the trolly appeared again with tea, coffee and a bun for everyone. It wasn’t expected but it was very welcome. 

I have no idea when the staff get a break because they don’t seem to have time to scratch. With such a constant flow of patients through that department, there is little respite for the staff and that got me wondering why anyone would want to work in that kind of environment? The short answer to that of course, is that many of them don’t.

More than 21,500 Irish young people were granted Australian working holiday visas over a 12-month period since July 2022. The highest recorded number of visas in at least 16 years according to the Australian Department of Home Affairs.

That number includes some of our nurses and also includes a 44% increase in the number of Irish doctors granted visas since 2018. The reasons for emigrating to Australia include the opportunity for a better work-life balance, and the ability to progress into senior roles more quickly.

Journal.ie interviewed nurses about their experience of working in different healthcare systems. One emigrated to Perth and she said there was no such thing as a patient ratio in Ireland. She used to have eight patients on a day shift in a private cardiac unit at home and could have had 12 patients to herself on a night shift. In Australia it was strictly four patients to one nurse in the public hospitals.

Another nurse worked in two different hospitals before she went to Australia and echoed the sentiments about the lower patient load. She trained in a public hospital with staff shortages and long hours. To work in Ireland again she said she would need to see an improvement in pay and conditions, higher staff levels and a lower patient to nurse ratio.

We really need to start looking after these people.

World Sleep Day this year takes place on 15^th March so get ready. If you didn’t already know, the idea behind it is to highlight the plight of those who have sleep problems and to educate people all over the world about the importance of sleep.

I don’t need to be told because I already know how important sleep is. I get cranky too if I don’t get enough of it. What I didn’t realise though is how many of us have difficulty getting a night’s rest.

According to the American Sleep Association, between 50 and 70 million people have some type of sleeping disorder. The most common of those is the inability to get any sleep at all or not being able to stay asleep for a full night once they do nod off. Mild to severe sleep difficulties are problematic for many.

To celebrate World Sleep Day, the organisers suggest you should take the day off and sleep as long as you want or, in a less extreme manner, grab a 20-minute power nap during a lunch break. If you feel refreshed afterward, it means that you needed it.

That could be difficult though if you’re someone who struggles to get to sleep in the first place. It certainly wasn’t the case for an ex-colleague of mine from my Blarney days, the late Dan Ahern. Dan had mastered the art of grabbing forty winks.

Driving a patrol car around the countryside in the dead of night for eight hours wasn’t easy. In those days we did a week of nights from 10pm to 6am and most people who work the night shift will tell you it’s tough on the body. Particularly at the start of the week until your system gets used to it.

Whenever Dan felt himself flagging, he would pull into the side of the road, push back the seat, close the eyes and within seconds he’d be out for the count. Ten minutes later he’d sit bolt upright, wide awake and full of beans for the rest of the shift. I always marvelled at how quickly he could recharge his battery.

I couldn’t do that. I needed a full eight hours sleep to function but now as I get older, I don’t need as much. I do get up more during the night, but fortunately I have no difficulty nodding off again. That’s not the case for everyone though and that’s tough because tiredness can drag you down. It can also be harmful to your health.

The Times UK published a study that estimated 40-70 per cent of older adults have chronic sleep problems. Even worse, those who don’t get enough sleep between their forties and sixties could be more prone to developing dementia.

Another study by a team from the University of Pittsburgh, found that participants with persistent insomnia, which was defined as having trouble falling asleep, waking up in the night or waking up earlier than planned on three or four nights, had a 60-75 per cent increased risk of cardiovascular disease.

Our sleep quality declines as we age, becoming shorter, lighter and more fragmented. Greg Elder, professor in psychology and associate director of the Northumbria University Centre for Sleep Research says most mid-lifers report that they tend not to have too many problems nodding off but struggle to stay asleep.

The time we spend asleep decreases as we get older, but the experts tell us we shouldn’t be getting too excited about it as long as we get somewhere near 7-9 hours of total sleep. Not everyone needs exactly the same amount and that’s good to hear because six hours seems to be enough for me. There are some tips too.

A little booze has been shown scientifically to help some people fall asleep faster but taking a nightcap will not guarantee good sleep. A small amount of alcohol, a nip of whisky or sherry, might make you feel calm and sleepy, encouraging sleep onset.

If you do wake in the middle of the night, the worst thing you can do according to the experts is to lie there thinking about it. They suggest if you’re lying there trying to sleep for 15 minutes and it’s not happening, then you should get up and go and do a quiet activity such as reading or knitting until you feel sleepy enough to go back to bed.

Another suggestion is to cut back on caffeine. As a stimulant, caffeine can make the mind and body active, so it’s best to avoid coffee, tea or other caffeinated drinks at least 6 hours before bedtime. Keep the bedroom cool and an hour before bedtime turn off the computer, television, smartphone or other devices as the blue lights can interfere with good sleep rhythms.

That information would have been handy for a high school student Randy Gardner who decided in 1963 to try and beat the world record for staying awake which at the time stood at 260 hours, or just under 11 days.

A sleep researcher called William Dement from Stanford University was just starting his research in the field of sleep science and got involved a few days into the experiment and found Randy to be upbeat and unimpaired. However, as the days wore on, the experiment threw up some results. His sense of taste, smell and hearing and his cognitive and sensory abilities began to be affected.

By the tenth day, Randy was unable to complete simple mathematic equations and experienced hallucinations and a lot of confusion, but he managed to stay awake for 11 days and 25 minutes.

I struggle with mathematic equations all the time and I’m in a constant state of confusion. I have the occasional hallucination too. Maybe it’s time for a little whiskey and nap.

I arrived in Paphos Airport in Cyprus at half past midnight. I had been travelling all day, but I wasn’t finished yet. I still had to collect my rental car and make a two-hour journey up the motorway, so I was anxious to get the car and be on my way.

This was back in the days when car hire was affordable. It was my first time using this car-hire company, so I was a little apprehensive. The reviews were good though, so what could possibly go wrong?

The first alarm bell went off when I couldn’t see my name on any of the cards being held aloft by the various taxi drivers, car rental agents and travel company representatives. Still only mildly concerned, I went outside to check another group but couldn’t see my name there either. A second alarm bell started ringing.

OK, so maybe the guy was just running a bit late. It was too early to panic, but when all the card holders collected their passengers and left me standing alone outside, I accepted the time to panic had arrived.

I only had an office phone number and an email address for the company. I had hoped the phone might have been forwarded to a mobile, but it just rang out. I sent a couple of emails in the hope that someone might be monitoring the account but that didn’t work either. I searched the website for an emergency number but couldn’t find one, but I did find a Facebook account, so I sent a message to that.

When it got to 2am, I realised I was destined to spend the night in the airport. I briefly considered getting a hotel room in Paphos, but I figured that by the time a taxi arrived out from the city, collected me and dropped me off at a hotel back in the centre, it would be at least 3am and if they had no room, I could find myself stranded again only in a different place. So, I decided to hold tough.

Paphos airport is very small with limited facilities and those they did have were closed for the night. There were some metal seats in the arrival’s hall, and I threw myself across a few of them. In terms of comfort, they ranked 0 on a scale of one to a million. Whatever way I turned my body, a piece of steel tried to pierce a rib. I dozed on and off until 5am when the coffee shop opened for business. I headed for that refuge.

I found a place to charge my phone which was my only contact with the outside world. The last thing I needed was to miss a call from someone trying to supply me with a car. With my phone back to full power and coffee in the system I went outside to get some fresh air and walked around the car park for two hours. On the positive side, the weather was warm even though dawn was just breaking, and I was also building up steps. You find positives where you can.

I was prepared for the long wait until the office opened at 9am so I was pleasantly surprised when my phone buzzed around 7.15am. It was a message on Facebook from the car hire company asking me where I was. I told them I hadn’t moved all night – I was still in the same place. There was nothing more said, but I clung to the hope that help was on the way. I had been on the go for about twenty hours by now; I was tired, and my mood was deteriorating.

About fifteen minutes later a car screeched to a halt outside the entrance to the departure hall and a man of my own age came rushing towards me calling my name. He was obviously flustered and stressed, so much so that I was worried he might have a heart attack.

We sat into his car, and he introduced himself as Antonis, the owner of the company. After spotting my message on Facebook he jumped out of bed and headed for the office where he found the bookings for Saturday and realised the wrong time had been placed opposite my name. Someone had written 1400 hours instead of 0030 hours.

He brought me to his house where his wife was already making breakfast and offered me the use of a shower. He had a car ready for me and kept apologising for the mix up. I knew it was a genuine mistake, so I just wanted to forget about it and be on my way.

Instead, he introduced me to his wife and the three of us sat on the patio and had breakfast. It turned out Antonis and I a few things in common. We were the same age for a start. We both write a weekly column for a local newspaper -his is in Paphos – and we both had a history with a dodgy prostate.

His wife, who’s name escapes me, worked as a health inspector and they spent a bit of time in Clonakilty in Cork some years previously when she was attending a conference. He spent his time touring the county while she was working. They both loved their time in Ireland.

As I was leaving, the guy responsible for the booking error arrived, and he was reeking of guilt. He kept apologising over and over until I was getting embarrassed.

After the breakfast, Antonis guided me from his place back onto the motorway and I was finally on my way. After meeting these lovely people, the long night in the airport was soon forgotten and the tiredness had worn off. I have some new friends now too.

The Irish Examiner reported recently that 184 people died in crashes last year according to provisional statistics released by the Road Safety Authority (RSA). This compared to 155 in 2022 and was the highest figure since 2016.

There was a high proportion of male fatalities, a continuation of the trend seen in 2022 of an increasing number of pedestrian deaths, and a high number of fatalities taking place at night when there is less traffic on the roads.

There has been much talk, as there always is this time of the year, about the number of deaths on our roads. 2024 is already off to a bad start in that regard and despite all the campaigns by the RSA and the road traffic enforcement by An Garda Siochana, the carnage continues.

Not just in our jurisdiction either. A spokesperson for the PSNI described as particularly shocking the high number of deaths last year of some of the most vulnerable road users including motorcyclists and pedestrians in Northern Ireland. They’ve asked pedestrians to ensure they can be seen at night.

The same advice is being dished out down south. Minister of State with responsibility for road safety Jack Chambers, the RSA, and An Garda Síochána have urged road users to pay particular attention to pedestrians. There has been a steep rise in pedestrian fatalities over the past two years with the winter months being particularly dangerous.

I bumped into a friend of mine last week and he was talking about the same thing. A former rally driver, he spent twenty years driving at speed in a controlled environment but says he is nervous when driving these days because of the poor standard of driving and the lack of visibility of pedestrians and cyclists.

He gave an example of the Tay Road in Cobh. A hundred years ago, the gentry used this road to travel by horse and trap from the west side of the town to take tea with their friends on the east side. It’s a country road that went from being a dirt track back then to a busy thoroughfare which was never designed to take the volume of traffic it now has to cope with.

I lived on it for twenty-five years and in the early eighties it was still a country road. There were no footpaths or public lighting, but I walked it regularly for exercise. By the time we left it in 2006, I had given up walking there. Many new housing estates had sprung up over the years, so the road became much busier.

Eighteen years later, the traffic has increased even further but pedestrians and cyclists continue to use this space. It’s hazardous enough in the daylight but in the dark winter evenings and early mornings it can be difficult to see these people.

Chairperson of the RSA Liz O’Donnell is particularly concerned about this. She says statistics show that if a car hits a pedestrian at 60km/h, nine out of 10 pedestrians will die. If it hits them at 30km/h, nine out of 10 of them will survive so, the impact of speed on these pedestrian deaths is really critical.

She says research shows that people are not obeying the speed limits and the RSA is urging the Government to review all national speed limits. This is very often the cry in the aftermath of a fatal accident – enforce the speed limits to reduce road deaths. That’s fair enough but we need to be realistic about this approach too.

Under the legislation proposed by Jack Chambers, speed will be reduced on national roads from 100km/h to 80km/h, on secondary roads from 80km/h to 60km/h, and in built-up towns and villages it will be drop to 30km/h.

A speed limit of 30km/h might improve the life expectancy of pedestrians but expecting drivers to adhere to it is unrealistic. I don’t think it’s enforceable but even if it was, you can’t attribute all pedestrian deaths to excessive speed or driver error. Pedestrians and cyclists must also accept some responsibility and play their part in keeping themselves safe.

I was out driving recently at 7.45am. I know the precise time because I looked at the clock on the dashboard to check it after getting a fright. It was dark and I pulled up at a stop sign before entering the main road when out the corner of my eye I saw a movement. There was someone walking beside the car, and I had no idea where that person came from.

It was a cold morning, and he was well wrapped up in dark clothing from head to toe. If I had hit him, the finger of blame would have been pointed at me. After that, for the remainder of the short journey home, I took particular notice of the pedestrians and cyclists I met along the way.

I saw one guy on a bike and the rest, a dozen or so, were pedestrians walking into town or heading in the opposite direction for the train. They were all dressed in dark clothing. The cyclist was travelling on the footpath without a light, and he too wore dark clothes.

In spite of all the road safety campaigns, some people still aren’t getting the message. Even legislators like Ciaran Cannon TD for Galway East seem a little confused. When An Garda Siochana tweeted recently about a cyclist they stopped after dark for cycling without a light and for being dressed in dark clothing he issued a strange response:

‘Disappointing to see Garda Traffic make reference to clothing here. There is no legal requirement to wear any particular kind of clothing when cycling. Making reference to clothing creates confusion about the law and leads to victimisation of cyclists, often in court.’

I give up.

My daughter Vicki headed off to Australia on New Years Day this year with her husband and their three sons. Family members from both sides went to Cork Airport to see them off and there were some emotional scenes which the children couldn’t understand. As far as they were concerned, they were just going on a holiday so what were all the tears about?

It was cold and wet when we arrived at the airport, and we got a drenching as we hauled five trolly loads of bags and baggage to the departure lounge. If they had any lingering doubts about making the move, the weather certainly helped to reassure them that they were on the right track.

The kids had no concept of the distance involved, how far they were about to go or the length of time they would be away. Cooper, the nine-year-old told my son Colin that they could still meet up in Liverpool to go to the football matches.

They were full of excitement and couldn’t wait to get on the plane. Their first leg of their journey was from Cork to London, and I could imagine them landing in Heathrow and wondering where all the kangaroos had gone.

Vicki and Ian had spent a few years there before they had children and only came home when Vicki became pregnant for the first time. The third boy is now two years old, and they decided the time was right to give it another go.

They’ve gone to Brisbane which is where they were previously so they’re familiar with that part of the world. They also know what they are facing into, and they want the kids to experience the climate and the quality-of-life Australia offers. Their plan is to stay there for a few years and see how it goes and the best of luck to them.

It wasn’t an easy decision and I admire them for having the courage to take the plunge. There will be challenges. For one, Vicki is terrified of spiders and that’s one thing they’re not short of down under.

Australia has its fair share like the Sydney funnel-web spider who has highly toxic venom and large fangs that can even pierce through nails and toenails. According to Australia Geographic, it has a reputation for being the deadliest spider in Australia, and maybe even the world.

Found in New South Wales, they can wander in backyards and sometimes fall into swimming pools. They can be quite aggressive when threatened and their venom can attack the human nervous system and alter the functioning of all organs and, when coming from a male, can kill. Sounds cute.

A more common variety found widely in Australia is the huntsman. They are the big scary, hairy, black spiders that bolt out from behind the curtains. In reality, they are reluctant to bite and more likely to run away when approached and their venom isn’t considered dangerous for humans.

Despite their intimidating size, huntsman spiders can be an ally in the house as they help with pest-control by eating smaller insects. They may be harmless, but they are enormous. I’ve seen one up close and it frightened the life out of me.

It was galloping down the hallway in the place we were staying, and I heard it before I saw it. I say galloping because you could have put a saddle on this thing and its legs went on forever.

Despte harbouring all these creatures, the Australian authorities didn’t make it easy for them to enter the country. It was a lengthy application process with oodles of paperwork and interviews and once the visas were sorted there was still lots to be done. They had to find somewhere to live, secure employment, arrange schools for the children, sort out transport but they did it.

Some of their old contacts stepped up to the mark to help them out and I was surprised at how well organised they were before they even set foot on Aussie soil. Before they arrived, their new neighbours had invited them onto the neighbourhood WhatsApp group and helped them to settle in when they arrived. So, it’s been all good so far.

They’re not the only ones to take this step. According to The Times UK more than 21,000 permits were issued last year as young Irish people fled the cost-of-living crisis. The Australian Department of Home Affairs said 21,525 working holiday visas were granted to Irish citizens between July 1, 2022 and June 30, 2023 — which is more than double the year previous when 10,491 were allocated.

At the peak of the recession, there were 12,847 visas allocated in 2008 and 8,416 in 2007. Travel experts are now anticipating a further increase this year, with higher salaries and a better standard of living enticing many young people down under.

It shouldn’t be any great surprise really and some experts say they expect the number of Irish people heading to Australia this year to increase by 30 per cent due to the opportunities in the jobs market there. The climate, better salaries, a more attractive cost of living and a better housing situation add to the lure.

While I’m delighted for them in their new adventure, it’s not all good news. It means I will have to make that trip again if I want to see them. The ink is hardly dry on their visas and my wife is already making plans. I’ve been there twice already, and I swore I would never fly that far again.

It’s not easy. Whatever way you cut it you’re looking at a long haul. About thirty hours travel time and when you arrive at your destination, you’ve got to deal with the jetlag. Not to mention the spiders.

Gangsters involved in organised crime in Ireland seem to be getting more violent. They’re also becoming more daring. Gunmen no longer lurk in the shadows waiting for their target to get out of a car or open the front door. They’re quite prepared to walk into a busy restaurant in daylight and shoot their victim as we saw in Dublin just after Christmas.

These guys place little value on human life. They occupy a world where brutality is normal, and the use of force is justified to protect their nefarious activities. But it is also a lucrative world. The illicit drugs market can generate eye popping fortunes for those prepared to take the risk of lengthy spells in prison or maybe even death.

They are motivated by greed and as long as there are vast amounts of money at stake, there will be those who will consider it a risk worth taking. The drugs issue has been a growing problem in Dublin since the early eighties. Now it seems that every town and village has been infected with this scourge and it’s difficult to see where it will end. But I have an idea.

I heard some worrying news on the BBC recently – well, worrying for me anyway. Apparently, because of climate change, we are going to see a lot more mosquitoes in this part of the world in the future, including the species known to carry and transmit the dengue virus.

Dengue is a tropical disease, but in the last few years it has arrived in Europe. Once known as break-bone fever, dengue viral infection can cause a severe headache, high fever, nausea, vomiting, swollen glands, and rash. Still, many people who are infected have no symptoms at all. In rare cases, however, dengue disease can be fatal.

The world’s worst dengue outbreak in 2023 was in a key dengue belt region, affecting tens of thousands of people in Bangladesh where the virus killed nearly 1,500 people with more than 291,000 infected.

The outbreak there was linked to extraordinarily wet monsoons and the dirty, stagnant water in which the mosquitoes breed. Warmer, wetter conditions linked to global warming are helping some disease-spreading mosquitoes to thrive. 

They’re getting closer. Another dengue-linked mosquito, called the Asian tiger mosquito has been caught in surveillance traps in the UK. That’s bad news for people like me who seem to be the preferred diet for these creatures. I can’t let my guard down for a second when I’m away or I will be eaten alive.

There has been a lot of research done about why some people are mosquitoes’ favourite snack. Gizmodo.com questioned why some people get ravaged by mosquitoes if they so much as take a walk at dusk while others can walk through clouds of the insects and not get a single bite.

There are many reasons why mosquitoes can’t seem to resist some people, but it starts with the types of people who attract mosquitoes in the first place. Although mosquitoes can smell blood for miles, they mostly locate their prey by tracking the carbon dioxide that animals exhale.

People who exhale more carbon dioxide are more obvious targets. There is also evidence that mosquitoes prefer women because their skin is thinner, allowing for an easier bite.

The World Health Organization has recently predicted that dengue will become a major threat in the southern United States, southern Europe, and new parts of Africa within this decade as mosquitoes continue to expand their range and take dengue virus along with them.

According to Bugpursuits.com mosquitoes can already be found in Ireland during the summer thanks to our mild temperatures and lush greenery. When the temperatures heat up, mosquitoes can be found here making life uncomfortable for humans and animals alike. The most common type of mosquito in Ireland is the house mosquito.

This species was first found in 2009 and is now present in many parts of the country and is known for its distinctive black and white stripes. I struggle to see mozzies at the best of times so I’m pretty certain I have never seen the black and white stripes.

The precautions we are advised to take when it comes to mosquitoes in Ireland, is to wear long-sleeved clothing, use insect repellent, and avoid stagnant water where mosquitoes can breed. There is an awareness programme currently underway in Cyprus advising residents there to avoid leaving old car tyres, jars, pots and anything else that can hold stagnant water lying around outside.

Cypriots have another plan too. Authorities there are battling an influx of disease-carrying mosquitoes by importing hundreds of thousands of the insects after being sterilized through radiation.

The battle is primarily focused on eradicating the Aedes aegypti variety of mosquito that has been found in large numbers on the island. While other but breeds are also in the firing line, these guys have been specifically targeted to prevent its potential migration to continental Europe. They can transmit dengue, Zika and yellow fever as well as West Nile virus.

The authorities collect and dispatch these mosquitos—both eggs and grown insects—to laboratories in Italy and Austria where they’re bred and separated into male and female.

The male mosquitos are then sterilized by being exposed to ionizing radiation at the International Atomic Energy Agency headquarters in Vienna. About 100,000 mosquitoes are then brought back to the island every week so that they can be released for breeding. The mating won’t produce any offspring and as a result, the mosquito population diminishes.

If it works, the authorities won’t have to resort to potentially harmful and expensive insecticides to eradicate the pests and life should become more bearable for residents and visitors alike.

I wonder if a similar plan could be adapted for those involved in gangland crime?

Most of us, I suspect, are probably glad by now that Christmas is over. We can get back to normal. Back to eating regular portions too. Turkey and ham will be off the menu for a while after gorging ourselves on little else over the holidays. Apart, that is, from trifle, pudding, sweets, chocolates, biscuits and Christmas cake.

The gut needs a break but if you’re still feeling bloated, spare a thought for Michel Lotito who can’t have had it easy. During his lifetime, he was known as Monsieur “Mouth” Mangetout (“Mr. Eat-All”) and he ate large quantities of metal and glass. Gastroenterologists X-rayed his stomach and described his ability to consume metal as unique.

His diet since 1966 included 18 bicycles, 15 supermarket trolleys, seven TV sets, six chandeliers, two beds, a pair of skis, a low-calorie Cessna light aircraft and a computer. He is said to have provided the only example in history of a coffin, handles included, ending up inside a man. Mr Lotito died of natural causes on June 25, 2007.

I wouldn’t go as far as Mr. Lotito but if you feel like eating something different for a change, I have some suggestions. I came across a few nibbles on the Internet that may or may not tickle your fancy.

Bird’s nest soup sounds harmless enough and if you’re like me, you probably thought this was made from twigs and leaves etc but the truth is that the while Chinese do make the soup from the nest of the swift, the main ingredient is the bird’s actual saliva.  

The saliva has a rubbery texture and is produced by the glands under the tongue, and they use it as a glue to hold the nest together. The nest then hardens when exposed to air.

Many diners are willing to spend small fortunes on this soup as they believe eating it will help them maintain their youth as well as giving them a long healthy life and a strong body. The same can’t be said for the poor swifts though because they are on the endangered species list and consuming these nests is reducing their long-term prospects for survival.

If that doesn’t whet the appetite, then you might want to try some Casu Marzu. A catchy name but before ordering it you should know that the words Casu Marzu translate to ‘rotten’ or ‘putrid’ cheese. It is a traditional Sardinian sheep milk cheese that comprises of living insect larvae – that’s maggots to you and me.

This sheep’s milk cheese is basically Pecorino, which has had the larvae of the cheese fly introduced into it. Fermentation occurs as the larvae digest the cheese fats, and the texture becomes very soft with some liquid seeping out. The cheese has to be eaten when the maggots are still alive because when they are dead it is considered to be toxic.

Since the larvae can jump if they are disturbed, diners have to shield their eyes while eating it. Health issues have arisen in relation to Casu Marzu, including reports of allergic reactions and the danger of consuming cheese that has advanced to a toxic state.

There’s also the risk of intestinal larval infection to consider. The dish is illegal in many countries because of the fatal consequences associated with it but is available on the black market if you feel tempted.

If you do succumb to the temptation, then it might be no harm to wash it down with a cup of coffee, unless you live in Indonesia that is. They drink Kopi luwak which is made from coffee beans plucked from civets’ poop. The civet is a nocturnal cat-like creature found in Southeast Asia and sub-Saharan Africa. It has a long tail like a monkey, face markings like a raccoon, and stripes or spots. It only eats the ripest coffee cherries, but its stomach can’t digest beans inside the cherries, so they come out whole and then used to make coffee.

If coffee isn’t your thing, then you might prefer a glass of mice wine. As the name suggests, it is made out of newborn dead mice that are placed in the drink for 12-14 months before it is served. Reportedly quite potent and those who drink it, get drunk quickly.

Baby mice wine originated in China and gradually became popular in Korea and other Asian countries. Traditionally, it was used as a magical potion for treating health issues and it was believed it could cure any ailment from liver problems to asthma.

If that’s too strong, then snake wine is another option. It’s a rice wine bottled with a venomous snake with a slightly pink colour because of the snake blood and it is also believed to have medicinal purposes.

The snake is left to steep in the rice wine for many months to let the poison dissolve. Ethanol neutralizes the venom so it’s not dangerous. This wine originated in Vietnam where snakes are thought to possess medicinal qualities but has spread to other parts of Southeast Asia and Southern China. 

Snake wine shouldn’t be confused with the potentially more dangerous snake blood wine, made by slicing the belly of the snake to let the blood drain into the wine and served immediately.

After having any of the aforementioned delicacies you might be inclined to burp. Not surprising considering what’s lying around in your stomach, but your fellow diners might not appreciate that unless you happen to be in Egypt. It’s considered extremely friendly to burp loudly after a meal in that part of the world. It shows the diner really enjoyed the food, and the chef will accept it is as a token of appreciation.

A word of caution. If you try that at home, you might not get the same reaction.