In my grainy memories of spaghetti westerns, there always seemed to be an outpost where Blondie, Tuco or Angel Eyes would rest their horse, and get their whiskey, ammo and guns. Lambertās of Camolin is a bit like that ā not quite āliquor in the front, poker in the rearā, but diesel pumps, store, pub, former nightclub and a gunshop out the back.
I used to joke that the army paid me just enough to get the two things I need in life ā diesel and ammo ā so, for me, this was my one-stop shop. On a dark and windy winter night, sometime around 2004, I found myself 120 miles from home, deep in the heart of Co Wexford. The sign above the pub door said Lambertās, but thereā¦
