Lón sa Longfort

I grow old ... I grow old ...

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

TS Misogenistiot

Since 0010hrs this morning, I've been eligible for free travel on public transport. This was an absurdly populist measure enbudgetted by Charlie Haughey, the sketchy and absurdly populist Minister of Finance in 1967. Quoting: "While our social welfare services are being continuously improved, there is considerable scope for voluntary effort in providing old people not just with the basic necessities of life but also with some comfort and companionship." I'm not knocking it because keeping Elders up-and-at-'em will ultimately stop them us being a bed-blocking larger burden on state services. And there is a huge grey vote. +13% of the electorate are over 66, and on their rights and privs we are likely to vote en bloc.  It really doesn't look good if a lot of silverbacks protest outside the Dáil until dispersed with pepper-spray and baton charges.

But what about meeeeee? It's move over Manhattan Transfer and Route 66 and go Busáras Transfer and out along the N4. Since September last year, I've been exercising articulating-from-sofa the idea that as soon as I am able, I'll be travelling about the country checking out the lunch-counters of places with train-stations or bus-stops. Believe me, every drizzly market town in the country has one or the other. Dublin sits like Shelob in the centre of all public transport infrastructure with her web radiating out from the capital, so to get anywhere unlocal by bus, you have to go through the central bus station.

Actually, me being me, I shall probably be too mean to purchase Lunch in Longford so will rather be checking out the park-benches and sharing my 'umble cheese-and-chard sandwich with the pigeons. But I might be tempted to a hot cup of tea at Torc Café, The Wooden Spoon, or the Gallery. But that will be enough, because I have to cover Brunch in Baltinglass, Coffee in Cork [scabbing off Dau.II and hoping for macaroons] and Dinner in Dublin with Dau.I.  And like my late much loved MiL, I shall probably start nattering to the unfortunate randomers who are near enough on the train to cough at.