My Dad, William McDonald, who celebrated his own centenary last Christmas Eve, couldn’t get over the fact that his eldest son (me) became a “pensioner” when I officially retired from The Irish Times in January 2015 on reaching the not-quite-ripe old age of 65. “It won’t be long now until you get the free travel pass”, he said knowingly.
I shuddered at the thought of becoming a “pensioner”, as my dad has been for the past 35 years, but I was also kind of looking forward to getting the free pass.
And now that I’ve had it for 12 months, I would never give it up. If any government tried to take it away, or even modify the terms of use, I’d be out there with the “grey power” brigade, marching in the streets.
When I first got the pass from a genial Department of Social Protection official in Amiens Street, the first thought I had was of taking the 10.15 train to Kilkenny and have a nice lunch in Rinuccini’s on The Parade and then get the 15.30 train back to Dublin.
But truth to tell, I’ve been so busy since I “retired” that the Kilkenny trip has yet to happen.
Benign legacy
The value of the free travel pass, perhaps Charlie Haughey’s most benign legacy, came home to me last autumn when I got a ticket on the train to Westport for €00.00, but my partner had to pay the full whack of €59.40 return.
Still, the way I looked at it was that we were both getting to the far west and back for less than €30 each, which is quite good value.
I’ve done most of my free travel on Dublin Bus, usually to visit my Dad, who is still living in the same house that himself and my late mother Maura bought in 1948, where we grew up. All I have to do is walk a few minutes from my Temple Bar flat to Aston Quay, where there’s a choice of routes – 37, 39, 39A and 70 – to transport me to either end of Glenbeigh Road.
God be with the days when you could be waiting at a bus stop without having a clue when the next bus would come along. But now we have “Real Time Passenger Information” displays at the principal stops along every bus route, plus a range of options on how to access it remotely using our smartphones – either by sending text messages or using the Dublin Bus app.
Foolishly, I hadn’t signed up for any additional apps on my “old” iPhone 4S, so I spent most of the past year sending “premium” text messages to Dublin Bus to get an idea when the next bus was due. But then I realised this was costing me money, as each message was being billed by Three at up to 24 cents and I was racking up €22 or more per month in charges.
Passengers
I hope that some of this money was actually going to Dublin Bus, as I often wondered whether the company is properly recompensed for carrying so many passengers under the free travel scheme. In fact, of course, it isn’t. Neither is Irish Rail or Bus Éireann – for the simple, and disgraceful, reason that the Government expects them to share part of its cost.
My brother Liam, who’ll qualify for his own free travel pass next August, tipped me off about the Dublin Bus app, so I signed up with Apple and got it. What a transformation! Instead of text messages that gave a tentative idea about bus times, I was then able to use my iPhone to plug in remotely to the Real Time Passenger Information system, and in real time too.
You still have to be careful though. Quite often, if traffic is light, a bus might arrive along at your stop a couple of minutes earlier than flagged and you curse the app for missing it. Usually, however, it works. Even in the evening peak period, when the buses are so crowded, my journey takes no more than 20 minutes, aided by bus lanes along the Liffey quays.
Trains
But my all-time favourite mode of travel is the train, which is probably not unrelated to the fact that my paternal grandfather, Thomas McDonald, and his father were both station masters on the Dublin South Eastern Railway that served counties Wicklow and Wexford from Harcourt Street station.
It would be tragic if its last remaining line was closed south of Gorey.
My Dad took Liam and myself to Harcourt Street station on December 31st, 1958, to see the last train departing for Bray, and we’re such a family of hoarders that I still have the platform ticket.
Maybe if I produced it in the Odeon Bar, which occupies part of the old station building, they’d give me a free pint.