If its Summer, and its Sunday, my Dad will be going to a car show. You can count on that. My sister, brother and I used to go along as kids once in a while, mostly because there was guaranteed candyfloss and funfair rides. The possibility of face-painting. I can’t tell you how many of our childhood photos include vintage cars and steam engines. When we lost interest in the incentives, Dad gradually accepted we hadn’t inherited his passion for auto and stopped asking us to come.
He was suspicious (to say the least) when I said I was going with him to the Irish Classic and Vintage Motor Show in Terenure, Dublin. He assumed I was harbouring an ulterior motive to embarrass him in some way. God only knows what kind of devilment I could possibly get up to at a vintage car show. He repeated several times that maybe I wouldn’t be able for the early start (8 a.m.) and that it would be ‘a long day for me’.
I managed to wake-up on time (shocker) to one of the wettest, most miserable days in car show history. We packed a good lunch and decided to brave it anyway.
I hate the rain- I mean truly hate it. Rain was the single biggest push-factor out of this country a year ago. But I have to admit, even with the persistent rain, I still had fun- in that sentimental, nostalgic kind of way!
€5 has been donated to Barnardos for the completion of this ‘thing’. Click here if you would like to donate online.