A Whistle in the Dark

Unfortunately, I was caught up in the bird strike fallout at Heathrow on Friday, as I was coming to Ireland, when two of a plane's engines caught fire and it crash-landed at Heathrow. Both runways were temporarily closed, and all short-haul flights before 4pm were cancelled. My flight was later, at 7.35pm, but the resultant backlog meant that it was the most delayed of the Irish flights; the departure time was moved later and later, and finally settled at 10.30pm.

So, I took up position in an armchair - one of four - around a table at the bar in the "Irish hub"; the furthest you can go before you know which gate you'll want. This turned out to be the most excellent arena for welcoming fellow wandering, delayed, passengers, and I met several, who occupied chairs for varying lengths of time.

Longest there, and first to arrive, was Maggie - a gregarious lady, who lives in Stockholm, and works as a buyer for a clothing company. This work takes her all over - mainly to Istanbul and Morocco, and she works two days a month (I think it was) in London. Originally from Newmarket, where our current president spent his childhood, she was heading back for her godson's First Holy Communion - her great-niece was also participating, and she needed presents for both. We had interesting conversations about many and varied things.

There was a businessman, in a suit, heading back to Dublin, who stayed just for a coffee. His flight was only delayed by half an hour - lucky beggar - and he didn't stay long.

There was a lovely young lady from Cavan, who moved to London for college and now works there as a PE teacher. She was flying back for a week - she had a christening (I think) in Leitrim and her local Gathering next weekend. We had a lovely natter before she took her flight to Dublin, where she was to stay with her brother, who lives in Santry, near the airport, before they drove to Leitrim next day.

There was, briefly, an American couple, but they seemed jetlagged, didn't say much, and moved when they saw there was a free sofa where they could stretch out.

There was a couple flying to Belfast. He didn't say much, but she was a fun, bubbly person, who had plenty to talk about with Maggie, who used to live in Belfast. The Belfast lady got so engrossed in conversation that I had to point out to her that their flight was actually now boarding..!

And finally, there was the young lady from Limerick (well, Clonmel originally), who said she was 40 but looked 26. She was a religious sort, Maggie wasn't, and they had an animated conversation about that. And we all had an animated conversation about the Middle East, and how she would like to go to Syria, but well.. and to Jordan, and how interesting she had found Israel. And then Maggie informed her that she had lived in Israel for a while, and loved how direct the Israelis were..

Our flight finally left at 11.

After a meal at the Sherwood Inn, which, although tasty and very attractively priced, would have been much improved if anyone had come to take an order for dessert - went to A Whistle in the Dark, at Glor in Ennis, last night. A touring Druid production, it dates from 1960, and is a powerful play about a rough Irish immigrant family in Coventry. Recommended, if it passes your way, although I did find Betty's character a bit weak. And a cushion is recommended - the legroom is fine, but the seats not best comfortable.

Thinking of heading to the Chatham Saxophone Quartet, in the Iniscealtra Festival, tonight. And we even have a fine day for it!