The Global Village
Ok. Today I chickened out.
In the face of the extreme poxitude of the weather, I managed to get a lift from Mrs Raheny to the Dart station as I did not quite fancy getting soaked to the bones in cold rain at 7.00AM. And once in town I neglected my beloved Dublin Bikes in favour of the Luas tram to the Repair Factory. It is a bit slower than me giving it welly on the Dublin Bikes, and a good bit dearer, but today the weather was just too soul-sapping.
It gave me the opportunity to discreetly observe my neighbour on the tram who was having a very quiet but lengthy Skype conversation in what I think was an Indian language (Hindi? Punjabi? Gujarati? Kannada? Malayalam?) I reflected on how his wife/parents/cousins/friends were sharing his wet Tuesday morning Dublin commute with him (images and sounds only, so minus the stale farts), and he was brought back to familiar yet distant surroundings (minus the spice-infused farts) via the magic of a smartphone and 4G connection.
We're all so easily and intricately interconnected. Yet isolated in our own little bubbles of connectivity, in the big bottle of champagne of globalisation.
Well maybe not champagne. Some see it as fermented fizzy urine...