‘You’re gonna be eating strange bread!’ said Minnie the Caddy, running her finger round the rim of the tea-cup. She was telling a fortune, in her little cottage up the flank of Slieve Martin, near Rostrevor.
The traffic was stopped in every direction, waiting for us .. or for the donkey. Everybody came up with ideas or gave a hand. Would that donkey put a foot on the wooden bridge? No. It was like Delaney’s donkey in that song.