City of the Tribes worth invading

KEITH RICHARDS was somewhere around Oughterard, on the edge of Lough Corrib, when the craving began to take hold.

Luckily, this was a craving for snuff, and nothing stronger. But the nature of cravings is that they must be satisfied and, so, the guitarist — who was enjoying a lake cruise with Ronnie Wood at the time — asked the captain where snuff might be found.

A nearby pub was suggested — the kind of place that sells anything “from sheep dip to gun cartridges” as the story goes. So the boat was tied up, and off they went.