Hellfire Club. What a fucking badass name. I bet all the other drinking societies wish that they…read morehad of come up with a bitchin' name like that. The origins of the cool name date back to the early 18th century, when a man named William Connolly built a hunting lodge on the site of a cairn, stones of which were used in the lodge's construction. When a storm blew the roof off, superstitious locals believed it to be some sort of divine retribution for the desecration of the cairn, and that the site would be forever cursed etc etc etc... What the Hellfire Club actually consisted of was a place where the English gentry could get sozzled and ride a few brazzers in the company of their social equals. The natives, no doubt suspecting that these English toffs were up to all sorts of Masonic shit as well, started telling stories of satanic rites, with black cats being sacrificed and allsorts. It's nice to see that Ireland's historical traditions are being revived by the young generations. Southside goths do this by having knacker drinking sessions in the ruins of the building, drawing demonic symbols that they learned from Buffy on the walls for the craic, then freaking out at the sight of those same signs later on, whilst on their second tab of acid. The syphilis-demented aristocrats of yesteryear would be proud of our nation's youths' exploits.

It's a Sunday afternoon and wifey decides to pull the kids away from TV and Lego to go on a quick…read morehike "I don't want to go.. .Scooby Do is on the TV and I want to play!!" My wife looks at me with undisguised distain, "look, the kids are happily getting ready to go, act you age and get ready too". Grumbling, I get out of my chair, turn the TV off and put my coat on. In truth I have always wondered what the place was like - having heard many rumours and stories when I was younger. lots of sadistic masses and naked women is what I was hoping for but after about 40 mins walking up hills and through forests we reached the old hunting lodge and not a naked woman was to be found. Instead we find a clearly very old building, completely open to the public (usually such places are barricaded up and closed), where you can wander around and marvel at the piles of broken bottles and used condoms. The view from the top of the mountain (and from the windows of the lodge) is spectacular - and well worth the trek. I can picture us doing it again in the summer for a picnic, it would be ideal. Worth noting - the car-park at the bottom of the mountain is very small, you'll probably end up parking on the side of the road, which is never particularly advisable!