Get On The Bus, John

Here comes that train again…

e catch up with Bellevue Hill historian John McDonald once again, as he reminisces about those long days’ journeys into Dublin…

In March 1975 I was lucky enough to secure my dream job as assistant Professional Golfer to the famous Harry Bradshaw in Portmarnock Golf Club north Dublin, and so began an eight-year long journey (literally) on our public transport system.

Back in this period of time it was indeed a long haul for a Delgany person to commute to work, especially when you consider that there was no M50 motorway or even a dual carriage way en route from here to Dublin city. And the public transport system was far from an exact science or a reliable entity back then either, as the whole country was in recession and Dublin city itself was a very run-down place with lots of derelict sites and abandoned shops.

The 84 bus route to Dublin – complete with a driver and conductor – started from Delgany and ended up at the back of Trinity College Pearse Steet as its terminus. The journey of the 84 bus followed the two-way single road through all the main towns and villages on its route, taking in Killincarrig, Greystones, Bray, Shankill, Loughlinstown, Cabinteely, Cornelscourt, Foxrock church, Stillorgan, UCD and RTE in Donnybrook, the R.D.S in Ballsbridge, the American embassy, Holles Street hospital, Westland row, and then, finally, the back of Trinity College, opposite the Garda station. The journey time was approximately one hour and twenty minutes, depending on the traffic. And the driver.

The first bus left Delgany at 7am and after 9am, you could be waiting two hours or more for the next one. The alternative to the bus route to Dublin city was to take the train from Greystones Railway Station. This was long before the frequent Dart, diesel engines pulling creaky old carriages, which, bizarrely, were always either freezing cold or piping hot, never inbetween. When Lady Luck shined upon you, there would be one of those separate compartments for six people, a snug with a sliding door to keep the riff-raff out.

Worth noting too that there was little or no platform information back in those days either, and certainly no information as to delays, etc. whilst stuck on a slow moving train. The service from Greystones back then was far from bountiful, and apart from the 7am, the 7.26am and the Rosslare Express train at 7.50am, there were only a handful trains leaving Greystones for the rest of the day.

As to the railway stations in use back then, they are much the same as today, except there were no stations at Sandymount or Grand Canal Dock, and Pearse Street station was known as Westland Row. The Rosslare Express train was the fastest journey time as it only stopped at Bray, Dun Laoghaire, Westland Row and Connolly, taking around fifty minutes. Which was as good as time travel to use, given that the regular trains took around one hour and fifteen minutes to reach the city.

My own journey everyday consisted of taking the 7am 84 bus from Delgany to Greystones, then taking the 7.26am diesel train to Tara Street, followed by a quick walk or run across Butt Bridge to catch the 9am number 42A bus from middle Abbey Street to Portmarnock, and finally walking the mile and one-eight road journey up to the Portmarnock Golf Club, arriving at 9-30am.

Think Lord Of The Rings. Only with lots of rain. Interrupted by the occasional showers.

The total time to work took two and a half hours, if my connections were on time. Which, you may not be surprised to discover, wasn’t always the case. I did this journey home as well, which added up to a fourteen-hour working day. Somehow, I did this for eight long years but enjoyed every minute.

Over those eight years there would have been the odd bus or train strike – something it might take a few hours to notice – and that would mean having to make the whole trip by either bus or by train. When there was a bus strike, you’d have to walk the two miles from Delgany to the train station in Greystones, and then walking from the Pormarnock train station to the golf club was another good two miles. Given this public transport malarkey was rampant in Ireland, hitching was a common sight on roads around the country. Oh, the joy of getting a lift in a warm, comfortable car, with no waiting, delays or strange smells.

My memories of those days are still etched firmly on my mind, and I recall being able to buy a monthly commuter ticket for £30 for the month, allowing you to travel on both bus and train to your heart’s content. I remember fondly all those people from Delgany, Killincarrig and Greystones who, like me, travelled to work or school daily, and you soon struck up a casual acquaintance, with chats aplenty. Rather than just staring down at our phones. Made many a great friendships this way, whilst all that sitting and waiting gave you a chance to read, to snooze, to think, without distractions. It was wonderful…

Names I recall back in those early ’70s travelling on my route from Delgany to Dublin were the Scott-Haywards, Jim Barry, Vincent Barry, Nuala Darcy, Breda McDonald, Angela McDonald, Catherine Murphy, Deirdre Murphy, Kenneth Lewis, Eamonn Clear, Seamus Clear, Bert McKay, Stuart McKay, Keith McKay, Patrick Byrne, Charlie Byrne ,Dee Byrne, Dave Harris, Brenda Harris, Anne Watchorn, Margaret Watchorn, Violet Martin, Michael Hanley, Bridget Hanley and Amanda Arkwright.

Hopping on in Killincarrig were Tina Downey, Philomena Kane, Vivienne Ward, John O’Leary. Joining us in Greystones were Michael Burke and Tony O’Donohue, and in Blacklion, Ellen Lawless, Maire Kinsella, Marcella Morris plus a couple more guys from the top of Windgates and the half moon, bjt their names escape me. These were the people that you would often meet on the return journey back home too, and there was always some great craic to be had on both the bus and the train journeys as we discussed the topics of the day!

By the time I finished my qualifications in Portmarnock in 1983 and I had left to take up my role as a P.G.A. Professional in Blainroe Golf Club in Wicklow the Dart was about to commence operations and make life a lot easier for all those people who had to travel to work or school on public transport to Dublin and beyond the Pale. As for me, it was time to drive a car and leave behind the long and winding road of the public transport system I had endured for those long if wonderful eight years.

There’s something everlasting about the roads most travelled, and the friends you make along your journey…