It’s supposed to be like the Bay of Naples – to the extent that the terrace at the far end is called Sorrento. A bit romantic maybe, Ireland has hundreds of bays more spectacular and more beautiful.
Since the school introduced a minibus service last autumn, our school run avoids the thrills of the M50 and is a three minute run down to the station.
“Are you ready?” is shouted half a dozen times each morning and around 7.20 we leave. Up Killiney Avenue, along Killiney Hill Road, down Strathmore Road, meeting the Vico Road at the pop singer’s house, before going down Station Road. The railway station is on the beach.
At 7.30 in the morning there is a rush for the station: women in shoes that will make them pay in later life; thirty-something men puffing down the road from the Ballybrack direction; tardy young things in two door coupes running from the car park to make the citybound train. It would be a good exercise in person watching to sit there for an hour some morning.
For a moment, though, there was tranquility. The water was unrippled and the bright spring morning was filled with sunlight. A single fishing boat made a steady progress across the bay, heading towards Dun Laoghaire.
It would be nice to live here, to live here as opposed to rush around here.
The tranquility must have lasted around three seconds. “Have a good day”. Doors were opened and slammed. The distributors of the free papers were busy handing out the morning edition at the station entrance. The circuit was completed by driving up Military Road, through Ballybrack village and back down Church Road.
One day, I will find some time to pause (and even take my camera with me so I don’t have to use pictures from a Saturday afternoon in the winter)