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About Galway

But the blokes? Oh, christ, the blokes! Sweaty, sad gits, stumblin’ over their trousers. “You’re a walking disaster!” I’d howl, cacklin’ like a hyena. One time, saw this geezer hagglin’ – hagglin’! – like it’s a car boot sale. Mate, it’s a prossie, not a second-hand toaster! Had me in stitches, tho – what a prat.

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Anyway, I finally make it to the shops. I’m grabbing some milk and bread, you know, the essentials. And then I see this old fella, Mr. O’Reilly, trying to carry his shopping. He’s struggling, bless him. So, I rush over, “Here, let me help ya!” He’s all grateful, and I’m feeling like a hero for a sec. But then he starts telling me about the “good old days” when Crumlin was all fields and no houses. I’m like, “Yeah, mate, but I kinda like my house.”

In Crumlin, locals team up with academics to gather details on the area’s trees