Funny, isn't it, how places in the middle of nowhere, places of real natural beauty, attract people who want to party but whose "alternative" lifestyle - if only for the weekend - provokes hysteria among the powers that be.

Young and not-so-young party seekers emerge from the concrete enclaves of the cities to soak up the ambiance of the countryside for a night or two. Some go further afield, to the trance parties on the beaches of Goa, or the full moon parties on the Thai island of Koh Pha-Ngan. Many enjoy this lifestyle for a couple of weeks, and some stay forever.

Driving up the road to Ballyconneely one Sunday recently, I was curious about the disheveled hitchhikers shuffling around under the disapproving looks of the Gardai. Normally there are few people around apart from BMW driving golfers who seem blissfully unaware that the National Speed Limit applies to this stretch of road.

The previous evening had drawn several hundred people to a party at Dunloughan beach only to be met by the local constabulary. Police allegations such as "…it was used as a means of drug selling…" met counter-allegations like "the sole purpose was to have fun, camp out, and enjoy the summer."

When the Gardai tried to confiscate equipment some of the crowd became aggressive and stones were thrown. The party carried on until the next afternoon when the Guards got their revenge at a blockade near Galway. Records and equipment were confiscated and, according to a recent Hot Press report, some individuals are still trying to get their property back.

Is it the music that acts like a red rag to a bull? All that frantic banging, thumping and rattling at more than 60 beats per minute seems to strike fear into those who don't respond to it. To many in Ireland music has to involve hirsute men with fiddles, men and women in huge hats and cowboy boots, or the belting out of bombastic ballads and love themes from Hollywood Blockbusters. Would there be a problem if Celine Dion, Daniel O'Donnell, or The Chieftains organised a party on the beach?

In the UK the last 25 years have seen a lot of free festivals and parties. From Windsor in 1973 to Castlemorton in 1992 these events have been a constant thorn in the side. The Stonehenge free festivals are no more, the last one – attended by 60,000 – took place in 1984. The next year saw the police ton of bricks routine that came to be known as "The Battle of the Beanfield", and the following year it cost £500,000 to stop access to the stones.

Earlier this decade the Criminal Justice Act effectively drove the free festival out of existence, or at least deep underground. With the Combating the Misuse of Drugs Act it seems like we in Ireland will follow suit. When justifying their actions the police play their trump card to garner the support of the man and woman on the street. Grave, monotone references are made to drug selling and socially unacceptable behaviour.

If partygoers are prepared to leave the place as they found it – which those at Dunloughan did - and enjoy themselves while doing no harm to others, then surely they have as much right to enjoy the country as much as those who play golf or walk their dog. After all, it is "common land."

Anyway, there is no need to fear the prospect of Dunloughan becoming an Irish Goa, overrun with glazed looking hedonists in baggy tie-dyes, because let's face it – we just don't have the weather. (19/8)

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