Brexit brings back memories of smuggling
BLAST week saw the start of the Brexit process. While the initial fear has been somewhat calmed with the registration of over 100,000 British businesses in Ireland signalling perhaps a positive slant for the country, there is always the worry of the return of the borders with Northern Ireland.
It brought back memories of the customs, Gardaí and British soldiers just down the road in Fermanagh. It obviously did for others as well as there were many smuggling stories on the go.
One person told me how they were brought to Belleek to sit on tins of biscuits and boxes of washing powder in the back of the car as a child with their cousins to hide them crossing the border.
Another story was someone who bought a racer bike in Enniskillen and shortly before Belleek they were let out of the car and casually cycled past the customs and didn’t stop until the safety of Ballyshannon.
Someone else told me they even had a “smuggling skirt”. The big 1980’ s gypsy style skirt which flared at the bottom was responsible for the addition of a microwave oven, convection oven, electric alarm clock and even a black and white television to their home.
Of course everyone went down for the petrol and that was the easiest one of all to get away with. However, at Christmas time the bottles of whiskey required more imaginative hiding places in the car.
Although the smuggling stories are swapped with humour, except for those who got caught but we won’t talk about them, there were also too many dark stories associated with the border.
My mother was a Cavan woman and would more often than not journey home through the north. However one night my parents took the “unapproved road” where they were stopped and while those who had been lying in the ditches suddenly appeared, my parents were warned to get out of there, as that night’s planned activities were not meant for them.
Stopping at the British Army checkpoint was often light- hearted. As a child I use to enjoy hearing all their different accents and if there were sweets in the car ( again smuggled back from the North) they would be offered to them.
Some of them were very young and it was clear they didn’t want to be there and they were not welcome there. One night on what must have been a clearly a troublesome night a British soldier was on high alert and stuck his loaded rifle in through the window of our car. My mother told him he was to take his rifle out of our car and away from her children. They were scary unsettled times and hopefully will remain in the past where they belong. Let’s hope the next two years sees the continued absence of borders and the smuggling skirts staying in the back of the wardrobes where they belong.