Northern Ireland
The next morning, which was a Sunday, Ollie spent the first half of the day driving me around in search of one particular screw that was needed to fix my brakes. It was a long screw, which made it harder to find, and it was thin (or thick, who can remember these things) threaded, which was even more rare. Ollie, Anna, and Reggie were all on their phones messaging and calling people all morning asking if they had the screw or knew where we could find it. Ollie took me to a giant home improvement store and they had every screw except this one. One couple was going out but had found it and left it outside their door on the doorstep. We drove there to pick it up and it was the wrong screw.
After around five of these missions, we finally get sent to a farmer’s house who is known for being around on Sunday, and also known to have a few bikes and spare parts. We twist and turn around the wavy road to his cottage, and things are starting to look up as we notice two motorcycles sitting outside on the lawn. Within a minute, the farmer walks out, comes up to the car, and asks what he can do for us. We explain the situation, going into detail about the complexity of finding such a screw on a Sunday. He shows an understanding, walks into his garage, and returns no more than five minutes later with the screw. It is a bit old. He apologizes profusely about the condition of the screw as I’m sitting in the car in completely awe and joy. I ask him how much I can pay him and he laughs and goes back into his house. This is the spirit of the people of Northern Ireland.