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Size matters

Published October 19, 2008 in cars, Ireland, from Erin, stating the obvious and At home. 2 Comments

While the size of Ireland’s economy has grown since I left, the size of the parking spaces is still the same. The only space left was between these two behemoths, I was sorely tempted to drive in at speed and scrape steel, but I had a hire car and the owners of the beemers were probably lawyers. Or their wives, it was after all the Brown Thomas multi story. For some reason a lot of people feel the need to extend their egos with large motor vehicles, the likes of which were never meant for the Irish inner city road network. When I was a young lad, farmers had Land Rovers for pulling beasts in boxes around the highways and byways to marts and horse races, note the term Land Rover, for roving the land, not the city. These days it’s the yummy mummy’s and yuppies and anybody else who feels the need to drive a big fuck off jeep, in the city mind, you wouldn’t want to be getting any shit or dirt on the alloy wheels. There should be a test (no gobshites) before being allowed to buy one and you should have to own a horse or something, but the car salesmen don’t give a shite either. No one cares and everybody complains? How does that work?

Apparently there was once two way traffic on the Main Street in Wexford, but the propulsion method was horses, and the only fumes were from manure. This is a classic example of Irish parking, halfway up on the path as if that will make it better, no consideration or thought put into this manouvre. The pram drivers are forced out on the road, into the raging torrent of traffic. Pedestrians and cyclists might squeeze by, but could scrape the paintwork, oh dear. I didn’t notice any scrapes but I walked on the outside, the cyclist who swerved to avoid me while I was taking the picture might have done some damage as he mounted the path and made for the space between a car and a hard place…..bloody photographers, a menace to society!

Home again, home again jiggety jog.

Published September 24, 2008 in Airports, passengers, pinch of salt required and At home. 7 Comments

The port wing of my second and final flight yesterday, the aircraft was a Fokker 70. The first plane was also a Fokker, a 50 though, and it felt like being on a Honda 50. According to my schedule I had an hour between planes, which is grand if you are on time and you only have carry on baggage. My first plane was late leaving. Subsequently I had only 40 minutes to get to my other flight, which of course was on the other side of Schipol Airport. So I had to do the walk-trot-half run across the long corridors and through the shopping area. Anyway I got to my plane, but the suitcase had to take a later flight, it not having legs and relying on the throwers to get it on the right wagon. But I got it in the end, safe and unmolested. On my way I met

Airport phenomenon#1 Aimless wandering. If you happen to be in a rush between two flights you will often encounter these types. Sightseeing tourists, marveling and the grandeur of the airport concourses and escalators. There should be shepherds to move these out of the way of

Airport phenomenon#2 People in a hurry. If you happen to be aimlessly wandering around the inside of an airport you will be undoubtedly knocked over by one of these people. They are often in symbiosis with

Airport phenomenon#3 Public Corporate bullshitters. If you happen to be aimlessly wandering, in a hurry, taking a leak, waiting for a plane, you will hear these types long before you see them. They most likely have a blue tooth headset and look like they are talking to themselves but are actually on the phone taking a kind of gibberish designed to confuse and annoy the normal members of the public. Phrases like “downsizing” “mission statement” “business paradigm” & other corporate bullshit can be heard among the other words in the loudest possible voice known to mankind. Of course corporate bullshit was invented to give these types something to say, because they don’t appear to have normal lives where they might have recourse to using English. As you protect your ears from being damaged you will probably see

Airport phenomenon#4 Cleaners. People dressed up as cleaners with utility trolleys filled with ALL the chemicals known on Earth in spray bottles. They don’t actually do any cleaning when anybody is looking, unless they see

Airport phenomenon#5 Supervisors. People wearing lots of mobile phones and radios which are usually switched on to the “white noise” channel with full squelch, they are weighted down with security passes and keys on extendable key fobs, and have a shiny white pale palour as they have never seen the light of day.These are dismissively ignored by the

Airport phenomenon#6 Air crew. The women are tall and skinny and look important, the men are all shapes and sizes but have the uniforms that have the gold or silver stripes around the arms and the hats of course. The women walk tall too, because they are probably too tall to stand upright in the plane while looking important and serving tea and coffee and the rest (my ticket said “meal unspecified” yum yum) so they need to stretch out while parading the concourse.

There are tons more phenomena associated with airports, not least the security and the check in desks or small kids driving their parents to distraction. They should have 2 queues going in, one saying “have you ever been at an airport before or flown on a commercial flight?” the other saying”is this your first time here? or are you completely insane and intend to wander aimlessly around getting in everybody else’s way?” Ah well at least I wasn’t heading for Casablanca yesterday.

Casablanca

Tiger’s whisker’s

Published August 7, 2008 in Holidays, Natural phenomenae, Nature, From Sweden, Sweden and At home. 6 Comments

A warning sign graphically describes what you will get if you get too close to the bars below.

Now the hole in the bars was just big enough to rest the camera lens, for a long range shot of Shere Kahn and friends, I didn’t see this divil coming out of stage right until I felt his whiskers rubbing against my right hand. I let out a low wail and jumped backwards about 4 metres much to the delight of the other visitors. I was shaking for about an hour after, good job he was just curious and not hungry.

More homecoming.

Published August 2, 2008 in Airports and At home. 6 Comments

Back and forth across the sky the planes do be flying, and a passenger I am on occasion. Ok enough of the Yoda talk.

It was that time again, trip over time to go home. A flight had to be taken or two in fact to get me from port of discharge to home. In fact it was nearly all modes of transport day. Shank’s pony from the jetty to a taxi, a surreal hike across a field behind the jetty, where we arrived at a 2 metre high steel gate. It wasn’t really a gate but a piece of steel used for armoured concrete cut into the shape of the gap between the two fences and padlocked shut. There we were met by an armed security guard who was in the process of opening the “gate”, “Grazi” says I in my best Italian, “prego, (pause) buongiorno” says the guard, I probably should have started with “buongiorno” too but it was 05:30 in the morning.

The taxi was of course late and the driver was totally uninterested, he didn’t like football and when I asked what the vineyards were producing he said “wine”. Well there you go. I thought I might have gotten Chianti or something. Anyway we got to the airport in time and he left us at the arrivals, which was half a kilometre from departures, but what can you do?

When we finally arrived at the check in desk there was only a queue for 1st class and business class, so we stood there. Then along came a very shiny girl, in regulation airport checkin desk uniform, hair tied back tight and shiny, shiny tanned face, shiny smile, shiny make up and spectacularly shining legs. It must have been something to do with the proximity of the nuclear power station or something, or maybe there is a pill that you can take that makes you look so shiny. But it is invariably air hostesses and check in staff that have this look.

The queue was creeping along and growing, and there was something wrong with the computers, which was delaying the whole show. Some people from the back of the queue started to come up and stare menacingly towards the counter, sort of half standing on their toes, looking and then going back. A pointless exercise, did it help the queue to move faster, no. But they kept on doing it anyway, as if standing a distance off and looking irritated was going to get them into the good books with miss shiny, nah. We got our boarding cards in the end, you always do, nearly always but pretty damn close to always. And miss shiny was very professional and courteous, and she smiled the whole time, must be a pill for that too.

Next up security. This is where the patience is tested the most. I don’t mind security, I don’t mind security guards, they have a job to do. But stupid passengers with big metal belts, and scissors in the toilet bag and bottles of water in their back packs. That wind’s me up. Deep breath, count to 10. OK keep going. After security you have these heavily armed Caribineri, I repeat after security, with big black shirts and big black guns and batons and radios and combats, (the black shirts…..were a bit faded mind). Now what purpose do these people have? And who will be tasting the lead from the big H&K’s? The stupid passengers with water in the back packs, or the lucky punter who managed to sneak a gun through the x-ray machine and metal detector and down frisking? Because if these guys and gals open up witha da biga guns, it would be carnage, and one hell of a redecorating bill.

Onto the plane, and sleep. Then Munich and a big sniffer dog buts his nose into your crotch, OK pass on by, and next plane, here we had a team of air host and hostess that were obviously in practice for ballroom dancing, the smiles were fantastic and everlasting, and the quick step up the aisle followed by a buttock clench behind the drinks trolley, I probably shouldn’t have noticed that, but he did it a few times, in the vicinity of my seat, hard not to notice. What can you do?, you see these things sometimes, the pilot ducked into the forward toilet and on his return to the cockpit he had a furtive hole scratch, you couldn’t miss it unless your eyes were closed. I wish mine had been!

Good to be home again.

Snow & Irish flag & Whats another year?

Published March 18, 2008 in From Sweden, Irishness, flags and emblems, Ireland, Irish and At home. 0 Comments

I don’t know how often the Irish flag gets to see blizzard conditions but today in Sweden it had to share air space with lots of the snowy stuff.

The locals gave a few odd glances at the strange flag flying, where normally a Swedish flag might fly, but there were no protests or demonstrations, in fact it was hard to believe it was St. Patricks day at all apart from my bottle of 12 year old Jameson, the pound of Dennys sausages and the ribbons sent over by the Ma. And the stereo was playing a few Irish tunes, or a few more than normal.

Another Irish person popular in Sweden is the bould Johnny Logan, there is an ad on the telly with Johnny and pals singing Molly Malone and other songs in a sort of a pub scene with pints of the black stuff….in fact you can click on the youtube link below. Is this on sale in Ireland? I don’t think so….cash in time, whats another year?

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