Heuston Station, Dublin – addendum

And so it was, that before I had spouted all of my observations about Heuston and its transient inhabitants, I was cut off. I didn’t get much notice either – just a flashing icon that said I had 30 seconds left. And the whole “American internet” (as my work colleague would say) was on a go slow, so I had barely time to write a goodbye.

I didn’t have much more to add really …

I think the two biddies who were fretting about their train (25 yards away remember) might just have made it as the conductor blew his whistle. Mr.Agitated was never seen from again although that characteristic permeated the walk to the platform. A station security guard – well I think that’s what he was because he had a hat – shouted at a cab driver not to let people out in the middle of the lane of flowing traffic but his cab was already ejecting its occupants so nothing could be done.

Then when we were queuing for the train – don’t the Irish just love queues ? … when we were in line for the security station to get to our platform it was pissing down rain. The authorities who, in their infinite wisdom, somehow saw fit to construct a roof, nay two roofs, of exactly the same height and at the exact spot where most people stand in line but with a three foot gap, must quickly take a bow – its a sight to behold as people try to dodge both the queue and the rain !

The kicker came on the exceedingly busy train itself. Not only do you have to be on the train 45 minutes beforehand to get a seat but you are also guaranteed that the 3 seats around you in the block of 4 will be also occupied. On the inbound journey that morning there was even a commuter with his arse planted firmly on our table !

And so it was that I ended up with happy-clappy, over chatty Thai lady and her salt of the earth Dublin boyfriend (suitably tracksuit clad, of course) as well as the biggest country bumpkin you could find, giving them tourist advice – “be Jaysis, yer frum Ty-land ? That must be some quare place altogether hah ?” They were the kind of couple that didn’t quite look right together …. before 20 minutes had elapsed I had a pain in my ear from her talking at me .

I resorted to burying my head in my book and smodding* politely … and so the journey petered out before I knew it thanks to the wonderful writing of Khaled Hosseini and his book “The Kite Runner” – I can’t wait to get back to it.

* smodding – a mixture of smiling and nodding, while meaning neither ! You heard it here first 🙂