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June 05, 2005

B-Sides

The Archives (Being a collection of never-before-published columns and B-sides)

Synchronised Commuters

Waiting for the train to arrive at Newbridge station is something of an oddity. For you see several weeks ago as I stood rebelliously over the yellow line, I began squinting down the track to see if the train, already late, was on its way and it was. The trees down the track began lighting up from the train’s blinding headlights. The train drew nearer and nearer. The commuters began walking up the platform to get a seat (and by seat I mean standing spot). Yet as we watched the train come closer and closer we noticed it didn’t seem to be stopping. Our heads followed it in unison as it drove right by the station. Then there was the unusual silence of fifty dumb-founded commuters all staring up the track where we could see the train had now stopped. It was scheduled to stop in Newbridge and the driver must have just realized this. Then, to our amazement, off in the distance we could see several people hoping out of the train and walking back towards us. After about ten minutes the train began slowly creeping back into the station but by this time the top of the platform was crowded with weary commuters eager to get into a carriage. Thus, begins the mighty elbow bashing battle to be the first in the door. I get in at the front carriage and stand beside the trademark Iarnod Eireánn window that doesn’t close.

Everybody loves the Arrow

It was a wet and windy morning as I stood at Newbridge train station waiting for the Arrow. Yes, I said the Arrow. That dreaded orange monster that devours as many people as possible. Today was no different. As the earlier 8.10 train had been cancelled there were double the usual amount of people waiting for the Arrow. When it arrived it was already packed full but how and ever, we, the Newbridge crowd squeezed into the carriage. How can I describe the scene? Think sardine tins. Think too many clothes crammed in a suitcase. Think the Japanese metro. You couldn’t move an inch, literally. We were so close that it seemed as if we were one giant commuting body. The doors closed and we began to cook. When your standing out in the freezing air, you’re dieing to get into the carriage but when you’re in the oven they call an Arrow, you’re dieing to get back out onto the platform. I figure that’s why the Arrow glows orange. Anyhow, when we stopped in Sallins there was a crowd of perished commuters eager to climb aboard. If only they knew. The doors opened and they pushed and shoved yet only about three succeeded in joining our merry band of commuters. The other Sallinites knew better and simply sat back down on the dismal green benches. 15 minutes later we were still in Sallins and it was then we discovered that there were so many people onboard that they couldn’t shut the doors! The logical thing would have been to ask the people nearest the door to (kindly) get off. But Iarnród Éireann drivers are something of a marvel so throwing all logic out the window; the driver hops off and tries to manually pull the doors close. Amazingly it worked. We continued on our way stopping at every station. Doors open. No one can fit on so doors close and we continue. And to crown the whole journey off, the driver’s assistant stood at the entrance to our carriage (as he couldn’t move any further) and shouted “Tickets!”

Trains, Buses & Automobiles by Liam Geraghty appears every week in the Kildare Nationalist (page 6)

Posted by LiamG at June 5, 2005 09:48 PM