I suppose my father started it. He used to tell us bedtime storeys of his time in Australia when we where kids. He'd tell us how he only had enough money for a samwidge and a bottle of coke (between two of them) when he got of the plane, went picking onions, learned a trade and came back home to start his own business.
Other than that everyone from my town tries to leave at least once in their life's, some make it and never come back some only get as far as Dublin but everyone's always thinking of ways to get out of this dirty rotten stinking hell hole of a town once and for all.
:D
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