The Belfast end of the event was organised from a clothes and record shop in Church Lane called Snafu (soldier-speak, meaning Situation Normal All Fouled Up). We should have seen the omens.
For a start the driver of the bus did not know the destination or the route. Departure time was “8pm sharp”: we finally got under way at 8.30pm, but a two-and-a-half hour trip meant we would still see the bulk of the acts. After a couple of stops we were near Strabane, on the border, at 10.30 when we hit out first checkpoint. A bomb scare meant a detour down a back road – this was the start of a not-so-magical mystery tour.
After getting lost we hit another checkpoint but finally made it to the border just after 11pm. “Look at those four cops,” someone said behind me, “I reckon they’re gonna get on and search us.” He was right.
A plain clothes officer boarded the bus and informed us we would be being searched under Section 23 of the Misuse of Drugs Act. We were shepherded into a large, cold, concrete shelter where up to a dozen RUC officers proceeded to conduct a thorough search. It was an intimidating atmosphere, the snapping on of rubber gloves is not a pleasant sound.
Extract from a piece by Michael Walker published in the Observer on 30 May 1993
