The night Oasis rocked Slane — and I walked for hours in the dark to get home

Sixteen years after Oasis last played Ireland, I still remember the music — and the marathon walk home

Fans cheering on Oasis while they were on stage at Slane Castle in 2009. Picture: Collins Photos

Turning 17 on the day I finished the Leaving Cert was cause enough for celebration, without a spare Slane ticket essentially dropping in my lap just a day later.

I didn’t realise then that the Gallagher brothers would part ways just a month later and that it would be the last time Oasis played Ireland for 16 years.

And, while the gig was terrific, I’m sure many remember Oasis at Slane in 2009 for very different reasons.

My parents were hesitant about letting me head off, particularly after seeing the warm-up acts (“Aren’t the Prodigy a little wild?”). But some careful cajoling about how hard I’d worked for the exams and the need to let off steam convinced them.

Noel Gallagher of Oasis pictured with Henry Mountcharles and band member Jem Archer at Slane Castle when it was announced that the group will be playing at the venue. Picture: Billy Higgins

It may seem quaint now when you can book everything on a phone, but back then it was exciting to head into town the day before to purchase the return Dublin Bus ticket from Soundcellar in Dublin.

A novice at these things, I made sure I was there when the buses started running to Slane on the Saturday. I thought nothing of how organised and smoothly things ran. My youthful naivety wouldn’t last another 12 hours.

While the warm-ups ranged from grand (The Blizzards), to good (Glasvegas and Kasabian), to as wild as predicted (Prodigy), it was all about the main act.

I was just a bit too young to have enjoyed Oasis in their pomp. But I had a 30GB iPod then — plenty of room for the classic albums, and even half of Be Here Now.

When Noel’s stroll on stage was followed by Liam’s swagger, and the first bars of Rock ’n’ Roll Star led to 80,000 people jumping in unison, I was completely taken in.

Noel Gallagher performing with Oasis at Slane Castle. Picture: Collins Photos

Hearing so many people sing “you and I are gonna live forever” makes a strong impression at that age. It still does.

They played 22 songs that night, most of the same incredible hits that will have thousands jumping in Croke Park this weekend.

Fast forward to the fireworks show during the encore, which finished with a cover of I Am the Walrus by The Beatles — it was time to go. The exhilaration I felt as a 17-year-old was something else, but it came crashing down quickly.

It was the day before the longest day of the year, but by 11pm it was dark enough. And we were told to keep walking. There were buses — the same Dublin Buses I’d taken earlier — but they were full. And they weren’t moving.

I can’t honestly remember if it was bus staff, gardaí, or event staff, but I clearly remember being told to keep walking. “There are more buses further on,” they said. And so we did. Thousands of us. In the dark.

Liam Gallagher performing with Oasis at Slane Castle. Picture: Collins Photos

After a while, there was no one to tell us to keep walking. It was just us and everyone else trying to leave, herded down a country road. In the dark.

My pal and I kept saying, “They must be just a little further.”

By about 2am, our parents started ringing — a bit chastening but also a relief when the dads arrived just before 4am to pick us up.

I wasn’t an avid Liveline listener then, but I remember the situation caused quite a ruckus the following week as people called Joe. While researching for this article, I came across a blog post by none other than Gavan Reilly — Virgin Media political supremo and best-selling author — who had a similar experience.

He summed it up perfectly: “We arrived on Bachelor’s Walk at 4.05pm, nearly four and a half hours after we boarded, on a bus largely desperate to find a toilet and universally hungry, pissed off that they now couldn’t get a taxi or Nitelink home (4am is taxi blackout territory; it’s when everyone’s getting home from nightclubs), and wondering if they’d ever bother going to Slane again.

“Walking home, we made it in the door at 4.50am, six hours after the music had finished.” 

All these years on, as bad as the aftermath was, I would love to be going to the gigs this weekend. But sadly, I’m probably still 35,000th in the Ticketmaster queue.

The scars have healed. But even so, if I were going this time — despite it being much closer in Croker — I think I’d walk. Just in case.