Seven Capital Cities in Seven Days (8 of 8)

From Milan to Newbridge…

Shane walked me to the train station this morning for the 8:15am train to Milan via Florence. Made it to Florence sans problems. There I had to wait for about half an hour for the Milan train. I nearly embarked on the train for Munich, which didn’t pass through Milan but breathed a sigh of relief when the departure board noticed it’s error and informed me that the Basle train (which did pass through Milan) was leaving from the platform 10 instead of 9.

Joined this sound elderly lady who spoke five different languages and made bracelets and bookmarks from different colours of strings and twine. I was sincerely interested in her wares and that got us talking about the Italian countryside. I spoke in French with this well-read

lady about the countries and cities that I had visited in the last week. She joked that I will be a hero in my town. “What do you mean, will be? I already am!”.

We discussed Venice and how more beautiful it would be if there weren’t as many tourists. As the train pulled into Milan Centrale I showed the lady my artful backpack, which was decorated with a headband made from

wool, indicating to all foreigners that I was from the county of Meath in Ireland and if they didn’t cop this on, they were stupid!

Made it to Linate airport after passing by the San Siro in plenty of time and did the duty free. Made a couple of friends on the plane on the way back to Dublin. A young couple from Italy were asking me if their were dog races in Dublin. I assured that a trip to Shelbourne Park would really be an eye-opener.

The pilot then informed us that if anyone was coming from an Italian farm that we had to leave our shoes at the Department of Agriculture. My Italian mates enquired as to what this was in aid of. I started to explain about beef and he immediately jumped out of his seat proclaiming “Zee Crazy Cow” to which I burst out laughing.

The plane came to a standstill and I turned around to a smile from the couple behind us. As usual, I smiled and questioned them as to where they were from. Doctor Knightly and his good lady wife were from near Tipperary town. As it turns out, I work with a girl from near Tipp.

Town and guess what? Doctor Knightly is her local GP! Small world or what?

No sign of Uncle Robby in the airport so I took the Airlink to Heuston train station. On the way through the city centre I overheard this bloke on his mobile talking about the new British Government. I turned around and queried him. He enlightened me to the fact that there

was a new Labour government and that Tony Blair’s party had won by a landslide. Arrived at Dublin’s main train station and boarded a train to Newbridge (the home town of Nigel O’Neill).

Eavesdropping along the way to a young lady who was telling her friends that she worked in the Shetland Islands last summer. This stranger made the Shetlands seem so beautiful and rugged (just like me) and I promised myself a visit there someday.

Alighted the train at Newbridge International Train Station and walked for five minutes until I rang the bell of 24 Great Southern. Gail’s familiar face appeared from the side-door and brought me into the house where Obbie (Nigel’s mate) was delighted to see me. Called Nigel at work and arranged where to meet him when he had finished.

I went with Sue and Gail to see “Bouncers”, a play by five Newbridge men pretending to be bouncers at a nightclub. Some of their jokes were hilarious but it wasn’t really consistently funny enough. Met Nigel in the pub upstairs and we went straight to a 21st birthday party in Kildare town, a few miles away from Newbridge.

The party was a good laugh, as I met Nigel’s other friend (he only has two!) who was a bit of craic. Savaged loads of cocktail sausages and sandwiches washed down with a Rock Shandy, which Cassanova reluctantly ordered. “I’m not asking for a rock shandy, only cissies drink rock shandies”, was his reply, but he settled after a while.

The party was fizzling out so myself, Nigel and Gail caught a taxi-bus back to Newbridge. In the early hours I fell into a deep unconsciousness, waking up at 4am when Obbie opened the bedroom door to tell us that he was home. “Thanks Obbie, I can sleep soundly now I know that you are home safe and sound – you noisy bastard!”.

Watched Man. Utd. clamber a lucky draw against Leicester who went 2-0 up. Worse lead in football! Told Nigel I would see him at the weekend and trained back to Dublin taking the bus to Navan. Taxied back to 67a, totally cream-crackered, ready for my next diplomatic excursion

to Lerwick in the Shetland Islands in three weeks…

Read all eight parts of Seven Capital Cities in Seven Days
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight

Did you like this article?

    

 

Share it

 

Place a comment