1998 - Round Ireland with a fridge Read Online Free PDF Page B

property, carelessly clearing out the bars and breaking up the dancefloor in order to open up a shoe shop.
    I got there to find the photo opportunity was denied to me since the board was no more, someone wisely having followed its sound advice opening it up as a disco. Commission well earned by Messrs Daly, Quilligan and O’Reilly.
    I dropped my explanatory letter into RTE, ate a disappointing takeaway, returned to Rory’s, took a shower and went to bed. Fortunately I was so tired that it didn’t take me long to fall asleep. If it had, I might have started to become anxious about what the next day held in store.
    §
    The next morning I was woken by Rory knocking on my door. I thought , ‘Oh God, I suppose you’re going out again and you want me to man the telephones and make my own breakfast?’ but said , ‘Yes?’
    Not such a good line but it came a close second.
    ‘Phonecall for you,’ said an excited Rory, ‘it’s The Gerry Ryan Show .’
    ‘Oh. Right.’
    Having been awake only a matter of seconds I wasn’t exactly on top of what all this meant I opened the door and Rory handed me one of those cordless phones which nearly always get a bad reception however much the manufacturers promise otherwise. I put it to my ear.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘Hello Tony, it’s Siobhan here from The Gerry Ryan Show , I’ll put you on hold’and you’ll be through to Gerry in a minute.’
    Gerry? I don’t know a Gerry. And why can’t he talk to me now? Before I could say anything I found myself listening to Chris Rea and the whole thing dawned on me. Oh no, I was going to be on air after this record! What about my hair? I cleared my throat several times in an effort to make it sound less like I’d just woken up. I tried to ignore Chris Rea’s lyrics; after all the thought of being on ‘the road to hell’ was disturbing enough first thing in the morning, but when you were about to embark on a venture like mine it was almost as if the bastard was taking the piss.
    Gerry Ryan’s voice cut through the fading record.
    ‘Now, I’ve got Tony Hawks on the line. Good morning Tony—now you’re about to make an interesting journey—would you care to tell us about it?’
    I can think of easier things to do one minute after you’ve woken up.
    Actually I didn’t do a bad job of explaining what I was up to and why, even managing to be faintly amusing from time to time.
    ‘I’ve no idea if I’ll stay this jolly,’ I said to Gerry at one stage, ‘it’s only because I haven’t started yet that I sound this happy.’
    ‘Well, I think maybe if the weather is good for you, you’ll probably get a very good response, and indeed knowing the way the national psyche of the people in this country works, you’ll probably be made extremely welcome—and it will be a great thing for the peace process.’
    ‘Well, I hope to be passing through Northern Ireland later today, so if I can do anything to smooth things over up there I’d be more than happy—maybe we should all get round the fridge. People have tried getting round tables and it doesn’t really work out, the whole body language thing behind a table is all wrong—so let’s all get round the fridge.’
    ‘I think you may have hit on something there, Tony—that could be our motto for the peace process—‘Let’s get round the fridge’.’
    We must have chatted for six or seven minutes, which surprised me because I was so used to English radio where they want a few quick soundbytes from you before they whack on another record. We even took a call from a pub landlord offering to throw a fridge party’ when I got to Cork. I thanked him and promised to take him up on the offer, but wondered if he had any idea as to what a fridge party might involve. It didn’t seem to matter.
    In Gerry Ryan I could tell I was dealing with a very accomplished broadcaster who had mastered the art of calmly coping with four things happening at once whilst talking at the same time. He also seemed