My Father's Name is Dad

Dad's just rung. He thanked me for his card and then proceeded to tell me that he's going travelling round Ireland at the end of the month. He's 83. Respect. I think the last time he took the car on the Holyhead to Dublin ferry he was driving a 1963 Ford Anglia. And they still had the Punt. Cars and currency may change but my dad's determination is locked-on. There will be stories when he gets back; to be sure, to be sure.

The Fire - My Father's Name is Dad (1968)

Round Ireland with no money

My brother-in-law, aka The Prof, is planning a bike ride for the summer: a bike ride with a twist. He's planning to leave his wallet at home, cycle off the Pembroke to Rosslare ferry penniless, and circumnavigate his way around the Irish coastline. His plan, to throw himself at the mercy of the good folk of Ireland, will see him 'pay his way' by telling stories, a few jokes and any casual work he can get such as pot washing in bars or restaurants that can see there way clear to giving him a meal for the night.

Having heard David's material, there's a strong possibility he'll be coming back a Size Zero.