Warning- Giggle-free blog.
Today was a cracking day, but not in a Wallace and Gromit kind of way. This morning I was driving into town slowly along the quays with the remnants of traffic congestion. It was not too bad as I was driving against the traffic and I enjoy people watching, particularly tourists. I like to imagine what they must be thinking as they experience Ireland and Dublin for the first time. Are they thrilled or disappointed?
As I drove past Merchant Arch and the Halfpenny bridge, my favourite place in Dublin, I noticed three people, who looked to be in their forties, huddled together doing what looked like crack, in public for all to see. Later whilst walking down Temple Lane, a woman bumped into me who was out of her head on drugs.
Walking through Temple Bar, I was mindful of my bag even though it was hidden inside my coat. I had my Christmas savings nicked twenty years ago on Grafton Street by two women using the same technique. One knocks into you, and then the other dips into your bag or pocket just as you consider the distraction.
This lady had no accomplice, but then I noticed another crackhead who resembled the living dead. Her eyes hollowed out, and her cheekbones sunk beneath her grey skin.
When I got to the restaurant where I was meeting my friend, I noticed two more people across the way from the door exchanging little plastic bags with furtive glances toward passers-by. I have always been blissfully ignorant of the drug problem in Dublin, but today it hit me. My next trip to Dublin will be to investigate doing some voluntary work for the homeless.