By the time we’d reached Sligo, I knew a lot more about this promotion thing. My “driver,” John, and his van-driving counterpart (Kevin) were not merely drivers but actually a promotions crack-team, doing everything the promotion needed except the knitting. We’d set up in local colleges, and the guys would don their red Vodafone shirts to pass out leaflets and cookies to students and other passersby. They also offered deals for people who wanted to switch to Vodafone — customers would keep their phone number and enjoy a bucketload of free phone credit. The primary goal of the campaign was not to get people to switch (though that’s certainly important), but more to be seen as a friendlier, happier phone company. Which is where I came in, “bringing knitting to life” in the instant living room we’d set up in each location.

I woke up bright and early at the cozy and lovely Mount Edward B&B in Sligo, enjoyed a fantastic breakfast, and snuck a few tourist-style pictures of the view:

I showed the jeep to my sock:

I’m still not sure how the Yarn Harlot manages to get everything in focus at the same time, but I will learn. I have a lot more of these trips to do.

Sligo IT was a paradigm shift from Dundalk. We were placed in a wide corridor across from the Book Nest, and managed to see many more people. We’d been authorized to give people more of an incentive to sit and knit, so we entered knitters (experienced as well as beginners) into a drawing every hour to win €100 free Vodafone credit. People definitely came out of the woodwork then. Many of the students already knew how to knit, but many didn’t. (Also, there were many “mature” students — older people coming back for new qualifications. They often knew how to knit.) I brought several more people into the knitterly fold, and had some lovely conversations.

I love Sligo. I didn’t get to stay there nearly as long as I’d have liked, and it seemed like just as we were getting into our stride, it was time to pack up and drive to Athlone.

Things have been moving fast this month. I kicked off the new year by teaching an X-Factor celebrity and 130 Dubliners to knit. Then, just as I was recovering from the lovely response to my pattern releases, I was asked to follow the Vodafone promotions events and teach knitting. This was scheduled on Monday, I was awaiting my chariot at 7:30 AM on Tuesday and gone till Thursday evening.

My chariot is an ad-wrapped jeep:

Climbing into this thing and meeting my driver, John, was the first of many surreal experiences for the week. I also cast on for a special, travel-only sock while I waited.

We drove straight to Dundalk IT and started setting up. We’d been offered the student’s common room, which ended up being kind of small and crowded, but we made the most of it. We met some of the Vodafone marketing higher-ups, and discussed the campaign, the day, and possibilities for the next few days of promotions in Sligo and Athlone. I also taught a few people to knit. The most important thing we learned was that no matter how much Vodafone wants people to come and knit at their displays, even people who can knit will usually refuse to do so when it is a corporate sponsorship thing. I can understand this. I wouldn’t have done it in college either.

I learned that the original idea for the campaign came from a couple guys in the marketing department who read something about urban knitting. If you’re not in Ireland, you might not know: Vodafone, one of the larger mobile service providers, has knitted graffiti as the centrepiece of their new campaign. Their TV ads show young, trendy people learning to knit so they can cover trees and fenceposts with knitting, as a way to cheer up their surroundings. I learned the central idea of the original pitch was how the craft could empower individuals to transform their environments.

This interested me because when I think about the transformative power of knitting, I think about the power of the knitter to turn string into a three-dimensional object, often with usefulness and warmth. It was almost as if someone had read something a knitter wrote and took it in a different direction.

After Dundalk, we packed up and headed off to Sligo, travelling as directly as we could across the country. The best path took us through Northern Ireland, and it was the first time I’d ever been over the border. (Which is a little disgraceful; I should have been to Belfast before now.) Once we found our B&B up a mountain just outside Sligo, I met up with a friend (Mary!) for late coffee. The next morning came way, way too soon.