P in Puff Daddy

P has a project abroad again. In a few weeks, he’s off to Ireland for the next three months (luckily coming back home on weekends).
I’d love to write a whole piece on the place he’s been sent to – which caused us fits of laughter all night long. Unfortunately, the information is classified, as everything always is at the Cool Consulting Company. The name reminds P of Puff Daddy… Wherever he gets the connection with the rap star is beyond me, but from now on, that’ll be our code name.

Puff Daddy is a tiny village with 400 inhabitants (fit of laughter nr.1), who, I assume, all work in the one factory where the project will be. Do a search on Google image, and you’ll get one picture: right, the local Guinness pub (fit of laughter nr.2). Do a search on “hotels in Puff Daddy”, and you’ll get : “sorry, no results” (fit of laughter nr.3).
P’s first question was: how will I get there??? Me: by boat (fit of laughter nr.4, by now the tears were streaming down my cheeks, and I could not utter one serious word anymore). Sure enough, one more search on Google confirmed my answer : main means of transportation in Puff Daddy = the local ferry port.

When we went to bed, I wanted to tell P that, despite all the laughter, I will be missing him like hell. I found no better way to express my feelings than by starting to sing:

My Bonny is over the ocean,
My Bonny is over the sea.
My Bonny is over the ocean.
Oh bring back my Bonny to me.
Chorus:
Bring back, bring back,
Oh bring back my Bonny to me, to me.
Bring back, bring back,
Oh bring back my Bonny to me.

(followed by fit of laughter nr.5)