Saturday strolls along the Liffey’s Quays into Dublin city center offers sights one does not usually associate with a busy city center. But… before reaching the quays I bumped into these two lads. ’What’s in the box?’ I ask… ’Our stuff man… our stuff’ comes the rather sardonic reply. As if I’m to know they’re heading off… had enough of the great Irish summer… off to sunnier pastures? No lads, I couldn’t have known what’s in the box… although my first thoughts centered on the possibility of a load of green weed… I wonder why?
A little way further… not long before reaching the East Link Bridge, one comes across what was once meant to be a thriving community. The brash Point Village welcoming manifestation is a bit of a throwback to the glitz of the long gone boom time… still, it adds colour and form to a hazy grey day.
Then onto the North Wall… a sight I don’t recall ever seeing before as I don’t know when last I’ve been down in that direction. The Grand Canal Docks sign a reminder of other endeavours, which I’m sure you’ve all been following of late. The Sea Lock just visible to the right of picture… the Aviva towers over the Bridge Street Bridge that crosses over the River Dodder.
Then one is reminded of what Saturdays are all about. Leisure. Patrolling the promenade… looking cool. Just a pity the sky wasn’t bluer and the temperature about 15 degrees C higher. More the pity that this working party wasn’t joined by an equal amount of members of the opposite attraction… if you know what I mean? OK… ok… I hear a few of you muttering again… dirty mature man… he’s a real DMM! Where’s the beach lads?
If it’s not time for leisure it sure can be time for pleasure. I’ve often thought of enjoying a meal or a cool drink at this venue… maybe it’s time I drag the good lady wife into town. Kicking and screaming… maybe. Now I hear you muttering something along the lines of MCP… I can’t win, can I?
So much for leisure and pleasure. These days may even be made to measure, or… are they locating bits of treasure? Who knows? Saturdays could be lonely days out on the beat in my youth… that, of course, is if I can even remember that far back. In those ancient days there were no gilds on the beat… and when you walked that thinish blueish line you were on your own. That’s romance for you…
Onward… always onward. Or… should that be onward and upwards? The lads wait… impatiently, on a Saturday afternoon. Often this is the only time to get into commercial buildings with this kind of equipment… sometimes we should stand back and take note. There are folk out there who have very little choice of when they can get jobs done…
Then there are others who find a quiet inner city spot to sit and meditate… let the thoughts drift… float out along the flowing waters of the Liffey. The process can be enhanced with the help of a few drops of hop juice… well?