An Irishman abroad

"Stoodent Life" - Prologue

Dear Reader,

Please allow me to introduce to you the lovely seaside resort of Portstewart, Co. Londonderry, Northern Ireland.

As the Ireland Travel Information guide explains:

“Situated in County Londonderry on the northern coast of Northern Ireland, Portstewart has a long history as a holiday destination that started off with Victorian middle-class families and the resort still maintains an old-fashioned air about it. It remains one of the favourite holiday destinations for the local as well as the tourist population. Rocky cliffs and headlands shelter its long, crescent-shaped sea front promenade. Just west of the town, and accessible by road or by a cliffside walk, stretches Portstewart Strand, a fabulous, long, sandy beach, protected by the National Trust.
On Ramore Head, just east of the town, lies Portrush, a brasher resort with an abundance of souvenir shops and amusement arcades. The East Strand is backed by sand dunes and runs parallel with the Royal Portrush Golf Links, considered by many to be one of the finest Links courses in the world. For those of you who do not have the time to play 18 holes you can play 9 holes at the Riverside Golf Club.
Great fishing is possible on Lough Foyle, the River Bann as well as rock and pier fishing for salt-water fish. You can stroll along the beach to White Rocks - limestone cliffs carved by the wind and waves into caves and arches. It is said that during WWII, a German submarine (U-296) was sunk between 10 and 20 miles north of Portstewart.

About five miles to the south is Coleraine, a university town, it is home to the Coleraine Campus of the University of Ulster. The North West 200, the world's fastest motorcycle road race, is run between Portstewart, Coleraine and Portrush. The race is held every May in front of 100,000 people.”

It really is a lovely part of the world (once you ignore the weather), but what this guide doesn’t explain, is that because of it’s location, the town of Portstewart is home to a very strange mixed population (and I’m not just talking Catholics and Protestants here).

Because of it’s proximity to the University, for 9 months of the year, the place is full of students. Also, because of the beautiful coastal location, it has become a popular choice for people to retire to.

Despite the very obvious differences between the two sets of people (e.g. one set pisses themselves because they can’t control their bladder movements, the other because of having two much cheap cider inside their bladder), the two groups of people tend to get along OK and live in relative peaceful harmony (until last orders is called on Student Specials nights that is).
There are some locals that live there, but as far as I could tell, the only thing that linked them to the two communities was their utter hatred and contempt for both groups - especially when we took them on at killer pool tournaments (the locals - not the pensioners).

Anyway, Dear Reader, the reason why I have decided at this time to introduce you to this part of the world is pretty simple.

I am at a time in my life where my working day consists of very little productive work and also because, I haven’t done anything of real interest, travel wise of late. This means that I am left to relive memories from my sordid past to find something even remotely interesting (at least to me) worth writing about.

I will, Dear Reader, hopefully manage to avoid making this sound like a lot of “When I was in University, I did this” and “when I was in University, I did that” type of stories. I would much rather leave that sort of stuff for those that have had much more practice at it (and I think we know who)…

Over the course of these next few writings, I would like to take this opportunity to share with you some experiences from my time at university, and especially the year between 1994 and 1995 – my final year at University, and my last ditch attempt to have some fun before going out into the big, bad world.

During my final year, I had started to write a journal, convinced then, that I had the makings of a real book – filling it with tales of such hilarity and mayhem which went together to make up our lives at that time.
Now with the benefit of hindsight I’m not so sure - perhaps they could be documented into some form of literary offering, but more likely than not, only suitable reading for those that actually took part in the events of that year.
Anyway, if nothing else, it provides me with a much-needed escape from my boring life at the moment, and allows me the indulgence of returning to a time when life was so much simpler. I’m not saying it was better than life is now – but it was certainly different.

Dear Reader, I hope you forgive me this indulgence whilst I step back in time, to a time when the only things I worried about where beer, football and whether or not I could shag every female member of my class at the time.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, Jonny Vegas – The ‘Stoodent’ Years”