I normally charge for these!

I had a taste for pizza but the town didn't appear to have any of the regular pizza houses....bloomin' foreigners! Eventually we spied an Indian restaurant across the river. We'll give that a go. On our way round though, we clapped eyes on Pavarotti's Pizza, so in we went. A small place, there was just the chef and one waitress. 3 pizzas and one pasta, washed down with Peroni later and we were ready to check out Sean's bar, allegedly the oldest pub in Ireland. Small, dark and with sawdust on the floors, the place was heaving. We managed to squeeze down near the back, fortunately (?) where 3 attractive young ladies were loitering by the bar. Grizzly, Dudley and myself sat down, Biggsey, unusually when tottie is in sight, hung back and stood against the wall. 

It soon became apparent there was a chap with these girls. He seemed quite full of himself, a celeb I thought, gay Dudley thought, just a fat walleted gobshite, Grizzly thought. Biggsey had disappeared without a word. We thought he mustn't be liking the atmosphere and had decided to go back to the hotel. Never mind.

Anyway, Grizzly, as is his wont, starts taking photos of the girls. Then says he wants to take one of the guy. "Sure but I normally charge for these", he says. Quick as a flash (this bloke is annoying me) I say, "so does he, he's Biggsey's official photographer". Even quicker than a flash, the guy turns away, his nose well and truly put out of joint. Meanwhile I explain to one of the girls, looking quizzically at me, that Biggsey is an author. She claims to have heard of him. Yeah, right! And with that the four of them leave.

Not sure what he plans to do with that tongue!

Their place is taken by three, shall we say, more mature ladies, with whom we instantly strike up a conversation. All three are keen to hear the tale of our tour and even seem somewhat disappointed we don't have room (I do) on the back of our bikes! We run through the now slick routine of me being Biggsey's agent, etc. It turns out that one of the women owns a book shop! Just our luck, when Biggsey has done a runner, we could have offloaded another one of his cards. Oh well. Pat takes his usual plethora of photos and even finds a minute to get in front of the camera, then it's time for us to leave.

As we walk out of the pub, blow me if Biggsey isn't sitting at a table chatting to some bloke. Seems they had both been entertained by a punch up in the bar over the road, chairs and all sorts flying in the road and stopping the traffic. I explain to Biggsey about the book shop lady (not sure he believed me at first) and take one of his cards back in to her. Kerching!, that'll be another sale. As Grizzly pointed out, on this trip we must've sold more books than Amazon! 

With that, it was back to the hotel. Another day done and now just two more left together. Where has the time gone?

Biggsey's Official Photographer and friend