Melissa Kite has narrated this article for you to listen to.
The £80 million super-yacht with a helicopter on the upper deck sat in the harbour, and we sat outside the ice-cream parlour in an old banger that had broken down.
Our dear next-door neighbour in Ireland had taken us to chi-chi Glengarriff in the Beara peninsula and had insisted on driving us, because she has her car crammed full of essential clobber, like her walking sticks and a shopping basket nicked from the local supermarket in which she stashes her supply of duty-free cigarettes.
We made a motley crew, the builder boyfriend and me and this doughty Irish lady who drove her old banger along while shouting out the open window at anyone who annoyed her, such as a driver in front indicating to turn right then slowing down to make the turn.
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