Coach is the best and worst thing about clubbing in Banbridge
Here, anybody need guestlist?
Although not in the heaving student quarters of Belfast itself, ask any of your Irish pals about the club scene back home, and the Coach Banbridge will usually come up in chat.
Self-proclaimed, "Ireland's leading dance venue", how could such an oracle not come up into conversation.
For those of us who live just outside of the city, the Coach is the best of a bad bunch, be that it's kind of all you've really got in Banbridge.
Now don't get me wrong, I think we have all had some unreal nights in paradise, but on the contrary we've all had some absolute mares in the Coach – but we still keep on going back for more.
Be that from Kneedeep Wednesdays, getting you through the summer holidays of working for your Da or in Tesco, the Coach was the perfect chance to have a boogie, get smashed and see all your pals from sixth form. Legends.
The night is young and you're absolutely lit at pres with help from Echo Falls and some 'bai' (Irish slang for pals) won't stop playing DJ Cammy on the aux. Pres always involves "scundering" (Irish slang for embarrassed) your mates in Never Have I Ever or Ring of Fire, before jumping into a taxi, usually your Mum's Nissan Juke, and heading out.
Now the Coach has seen some stunning refurbishments in the past few years. Yes, the main room itself isn't that much better but there are now two smoking areas. Two. Meaning you're not cramped like battery hens whilst indulging in your Sterling Freshburst.
And whilst we love Wednesdays and getting clean lit sideways, before you know it, the weekend arrives and here come the classic residents on a Saturday night in Coach. Where the weekend ballers and regular occupiers of the back car park emerge onto the dance floor.
Enter the ever lingering musk of Buckfast, the weekend punters are out.
Whilst Coach has its merits just as much as its downfalls, it's the kind of club where anytime you have a bad night, you vow to boycott the club and yet exactly one week later, where are you? Standing queueing for a double vodka lemonade. Oops.
One question we have got to ask the Coach is what is going on with the music policy?! It's neither camp pop belters, nor is it Clubland classics, but then all of a sudden one gets the urge to "Hit the diff" – WHERE IS THE CONTINUITY?
Now, I myself remember when Disciples played, the atmosphere was lethal but then other DJ's like Timmy Trumpet visit and suddenly every everyone and their sister's electoral are out on the lash, cramping the dancefloor more than a flegs protest – not very BT9 is it?
But at the end of the day, it's always amazing visiting this hometown gem when you return home from uni, be that for a natter with Dave on the door, or simply because you forgot how everything about going out in Ireland is so early.
You get so used to being at uni, leaving pres at 11:30 and not being home until 3am. That however, is a complete game changer with Coach.
Coach closes most nights at 1:30 or 2:00, meaning that you're home and into bed with a Honey Chilli Chicken from our beloved Red Dragon for not too much later than 2:15. Mint.
But at the end of the day, when you're home from uni or when you're maybe feeling a little bit homesick for all of your guys and your gals and a good night out, there's nothing that a wee bit of Coach cannot cure.