On a brief trip to Ireland, Tony Hawks was driving down a country road with a friend when the two of them saw a hitchhiker, accompanied by a full-sized refrigerator. Some years later, at a party where the liquor was flowing freely, Hawks mentioned that long-ago incident to a friend, who was as sozzled as Hawks was. A bet was made: his friend bet £100 that Hawks wouldn't be able to hitchhike round Ireland with a fridge.
A lot has to be said for Hawks's tenacity—and more, for his love of the ridiculous—when it transpires that in the cold light of day, now sober, he decided he would take up the challenge. With a small fridge, and with one concession allowed by his friend: instead of hitchhiking along the entire circumference of Ireland, he would merely go to the northernmost, southernmost, easternmost and westernmost points of the country.
Thus began a journey in which Hawks didn't just get to see Ireland, he also forged friendships with an astonishing array of strangers. He met a king, participated in a 'Bachelors Night' do, probably came close to where some snipers were holed up, and became something of a celebrity on local radio. The fridge became an icon in its own right, achieving things not even all humans end up doing.
I started off this book with no real expectations, and was soon laughing my head off. Hawks is delightfully funny (and punny) at times; sample this:
"... and so I was bounced along Donegal's roads at excessive speed to meet my TV crew, or if it pre-empted it, my maker."
Or this:
"Seamus had wanted to perform a humorous song, and had asked me to come up with something that would 'set it apart' from the other mundane entries. In the event, what would set it apart would be a quite significant drop in standard."
There are some absolutely hilarious episodes near the beginning of the trip: his very first lift, for instance, had me in stitches. The attempts to go meet Patsy Dan, the King of Tory, were funny, as were some of the eccentric characters Hawks met (and the equally eccentric things they did).
Sadly, about midway through, the funniness began to lose its shine for me. The episodes began to get too repetitive: the same old pubs, the same old eccentric Irish (eccentric, but ultimately warm-hearted and friendly). The same old welcome with open arms because they'd heard about Hawks and his fridge on the radio. Behind a point, there was not much new that was happening, and all Hawks seemed to be doing was trying to get laid.
Yes, it's funny—very funny—in places, and it's oddly inspirational too: it made me think, even if only for a brief mad moment, that I should attempt something at least halfway as loony. And it made me realize that sometimes all that's needed is to let go of your inhibitions and boldly go where others cringe to.
But, eventually, just a likeable book as far as I was concerned, not absolutely fantastic all the way through.