Emer McLysaght: Ireland’s best pitstop – we’re spoilt for choice

I’m driving to Listowel today. It’s three hours door to door and I’m looking forward to the drive as much as the arrival. A road trip in Ireland is a joy to behold: beautiful scenery, charming villages and towns, an aul fella on a bike with a Jack Russell sitting in a stolen supermarket basket tied to the back. They all pale in comparison though to the jewel in our crown: the motorway service station.

The drive to Listowel will first take us on the iconic N7, which houses the ghosts of historical sites like the Newlands Cross traffic lights and the original Red Cow Roundabout.

The N21 will bookend our journey through Limerick and on into the Kingdom. But we’ll spend most of our time on the M7, and oh what riches is has to offer.

Petrol and its provenance is a touchy subject at the moment but given that the fuel is often an afterthought when one is choosing a road trip pitstop, I took a straw poll on Twitter asking for favourites up and down the country. It wasn't scientific data collection but I'm confident in saying that Junction 14 Mayfield on the M7 swept the boards.

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“It’s like an airport!” one fan exclaimed. Another waxed lyrical about the baby changing facilities and the soft play area.

For some families a trip to the local service station is a full day out. Some of them have playgrounds, for the love of God. What else would you need?

Palatial as Junction 14 Mayfield is, it's a bit too early of a stop for us on our jaunt to Listowel. Further on we have Portlaoise Plaza, another beauty. Birdhill Applegreen is a strong contender too.

The obvious choice might be Barack Obama Plaza, which is unique among Irish petrol stations in that it also has a museum and a life-size cardboard cutout of himself and Michelle. It's thus named and themed because of its proximity to Obama's ancestral home of Moneygall and the tenuous link between sucky sweets for the drive and the Obama's family tree is admirable at best and brazen if you're feeling cynical.

While talking about the Irish love of chicken fillet rolls is as hokey as talking about how much we love tea, I cannot ignore the weight placed on how a service station presents this plain-or-spicy delicacy

You might be quick to accuse it of being all fur coat and no knickers due to the souvenir keyrings and the bust of JFK just up the stairs from the toilets, but it does have a Supermac’s and a carvery and a truly impressive collection of Haribo share bags for the journey. Indeed, I once bought a Bop It at Barack Obama Plaza as a last-minute birthday gift.

Housing one of the Big Three – Supermac’s, Burger King, McDonald’s – is high on the list of criteria travellers favour when choosing a rest stop. The deli counter is another clincher, and while talking about the Irish love of chicken fillet rolls is as hokey as talking about how much we love tea, I cannot ignore the weight placed on how a service station presents this plain-or-spicy delicacy.

We'll be spoiled for choice so on the trip to Kerry, but if we were taking another road what wonders would await? There's a lot of love for the Circle K at Gorey, the stop at Kinnegad and not forgetting the monolith that is Kilcullen services, which features a McDonald's and a Krispy Kreme kiosk.

My eyes are almost moist when I think about the children gathering around the doughnuts on the way home from a match or heading up to see Ed Sheeran et al in the Aviva.

The services provide such a slice of Irish daily life. Here a bus of mad lads coming back from a stag in Carlingford. There's a clatter of teens in Mayo jerseys or Kerry jerseys or maybe the lesser-spotted Dublin jersey.

I worked in an Esso station in the late 1990s. Auld lads would come in with cigarettes hanging from their lips, wiping fuel on their ancient trousers as they peeled off a lovely purple £20 note to pay for their fully leaded petrol. The pinnacle of filling station glamour was the brochure from which you could choose goodies like 24-piece dining sets and branded golf umbrellas if you collected enough tokens. Confections were limited to Chickatees and chocolate bars that would melt on a warm day.

The girl I shared shifts with used to smoke joints out the back and sometimes we'd both be out there, oblivious to the petrol pump authorisation beeps. They were halcyon days, but they've given way to the splendour of Junction 14 and Circle K Athlone and the very special McHugh's Texaco on the N17 at Ballindine, Mayo.

Again and again it’s been mentioned to me in warm tones. It’s not even on a motorway but I have evidence of people going out of their way to visit its Supermac’s drive-thru or its immaculate toilets. I’ll be barely home from Listowel when I’ll be punching Ballindine into Google Maps to pay a visit.

Go n-éirí an bóthar libh!