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24 Things You’ll Remember If You Went On Holidays To Wexford As A Child In The 90s
Published 00:10 20 Dec 2016 GMT
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Published 00:10 20 Dec 2016 GMT
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Before the Celtic Tiger gave us all fierce notions about ourselves, and we started travelling around the world on yachts and stuff, you couldn't beat a trip two counties south to live in a sophisticated tin can for a few months every summer.
For those of us who did – and those of us who still do – we occupied a world that outsiders and our 'friends from home' will quite simply never understand. So, we've pulled together some of those memories that will make you yearn for a trip to the Sunny South East...
And the bit where they did the Saturday Night dance.
"I'm Steve Staunton!"
"NO I AM!"
And only when it was raining.
Or if you really hit the jackpot... a Nintendo.
Oh yes.
It didn't matter if you'd already gone through every last question in this Junior Blockbusters game. The internet hasn't been invented yet, so you'll damn well do it again.
Because you were, dammit.
Since the laws of physics hadn't quite reached Wexford by the 1990s, shoe-kicking contests were a fantastic way to make the most of the fact that the county's swings were unperturbed by forces of gravity.
The rules were simple: swing as high and as fast as possible, then kick your shoes off as hard and as far as possible. Worry about wet socks later.
Get that night sky into ya.
IT'S NO PROBLEM, WE'LL ALL FIT IN.
Or, indeed, when your friend from home came to visit.
The painful politics of youth kicked into action – and there was always a loser in the situation.
Dozens of kids and young teenagers running a little micro-society of their own, all fancying one another but afraid to say it directly to one another's faces, so instead passing on the messages via a complex series of intermediaries, each of whom had their own vested interests?
Sure what could possibly go wrong there?
And not just in the sea. On dunes, hills, decks... pretty much anything with a downward slope.
It's a good thing mobile homes didn't have stairs.
READ: 6 Places To Eat And Drink If You're In Clontarf For A Day
Because it's been 12 hours and your girlfriend of a week 'from home' isn't going to hang around, y'know.
Pro tips.
IT'S NOT LIKE THAT EPISODE FROM FATHER TED, OKAY.
(Well it is, but it's much more like the posh one they accidentally go into with the naked couple.)
Who needs meat anyway?
What do you mean I look older than 11 in this photo? Shut up.
Prospect Park. Think they're so great with their pool and their fancy gate. Well, if they come 'round these parts, you know what we're gonna do lads? We're going to give them the glaring of a lifetime!
As for Tara Glen... DON'T GET ME STARTED.
Oh, you think you're so great just because you live in a structure that can't be burgled using a tin-opener, eh?
Because it wasn't complicated enough already, before your friend 'from Wexford' started flirting with your friend 'from home' by text.
Frosties... or Coco Pops?
Frosties... or Coco Pops?
Frosties... or Coco Pops?
And we didn't even need Facebook.
READ: These 34 Aerial Photos Of The Wild Atlantic Way Are Jaw-Droppingly Good