Miriam Lord: Enda’s fairytale visit to south Dublin

Some Dundrum mothers were not impressed at being asked to pipe down during the event


The group of young mothers in the non-Fine Gael alcove were absolutely livid.

As the cream of the party’s South County Dublin crop tried to contain their excitement at the imminent approach of Enda, the women had been content to ignore them and continue with their coffee and chat.

Suddenly, an advance party of purposeful looking men burst through their little cordon of buggies. Like truffle dogs on the scent of the mother lode, they made straight for the babies.

Then the photographers moved in. The truffle dogs moved aside for Enda. The women were aghast, not least their friend who was breastfeeding in the corner. The other babies bawled.

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It was a terrible pity Gerry Adams wasn’t there to soothe the little ones.

Because around the same time, the Sinn Féin leader was on the other side of Dublin (in more ways than one) serenading voters in Ballyfermot with an unique lullaby of his own composition.

“The wheels on the bus go ‘Vote Sinn Féin, vote Sinn Féin, vote Sinn Féin . . . ’” warbled the president of Sinn Féin.

Although the mere idea of Gerry singing to their little ones might not have gone down so well in the lovely cafe on the Airfield Estate near Dundrum, where the Taoiseach and his former justice minister Alan Shatter didn’t hold back in their criticism of Sinn Féin’s declaration that they will abolish the Special Criminal if the party gets into government.

Their words went down a storm.

The top brass had come to rally the troops from the Dublin Rathdown and Dún Laoghaire constituencies. They were in prime Fine Gael territory.

Enda had just come from a visit to Mount Carmel Secondary School in Kings Inns Street at the heart of Dublin’s north inner city.

The staff are doing wonders there with limited resources, working alongside enthusiastic pupils whose mummies don’t spend their afternoons drinking flat whites surrounded by organically sourced cupcakes.

One of the fifth-year girls asked the Taoiseach if he might find the fiscal space to fund her wish to go to college.

Five new classrooms are being built in the old school – which happens to be this reporter’s alma mater. They have Astro Turf on the schoolyard/netball pitch now. Although it’s still on the roof.

Enda wasted no time seeking out the Irish Times to explain how schools in disadvantaged areas such as Kings Inns Street are benefiting from capital funding.

“And that’s why it’s important to keep the recovery going,” he finished, in all seriousness.

But then, he can’t say anything these days without tacking on his must-say phrase of the election.

Mount Carmel is just a short walk away from Moore Street. Perhaps due to his busy schedule, the Taoiseach didn’t avail of the opportunity to walk the historic street.

It was once a compulsory stop-off point for all leaders on the election trail. Maybe he’ll be back, flying fruit notwithstanding.

But back to Airfield and the unfortunate baby barging incident by the Taoiseach’s truffle sniffers.

Blueshirt tots

There was a brief moment of confusion amid the consternation, but the Fine Gael leader, who has developed a keen nose for hostility on the campaign trail, didn’t linger.

He moved on quickly, alighting upon two older women at a nearby table, whether they liked it or not.

He talked to them for a long time, leaning in, listening. The photographers were rather baffled, because Blueshirt tots were everywhere, ready to be offered up for an election kiss.

A cameraman barged in beside them and sat down, checking under the table, presumably in case an infant might be snoozing below.

Enda, meanwhile, was getting a firm but polite earful from the two women, who turned out to be public servants.

“I asked him about the FEMPI legislation,” one of them, Angela, told us later. “I got nowhere.”

Like magic, outgoing TD for Dún Laoghaire, Mary Mitchell O’Connor materialised at her shoulder and declared, “I’ll get back to you on that. I have your phone number.”

Airfield is located in Overend Way, or Overenda Way for the day that was in it.

The candidates and their canvass crews were there to meet him.

Two women in Dún Laoghaire: Mary Mitchell O’Connor and Maria Bailey; and in Dublin Rathdown: Alan Shatter and Josepha Madigan.

Mary, Maria and Josepha waited beside a 1920s Rolls Royce in the courtyard. There was talk of the canvass.

“A man came to the door in Foxrock and was just out of the shower, a small towel around his waist,” said Maria. “I said to him ‘I won’t shake your hand.’”

She’s had a stroke of luck, of sorts, for this election.

Her husband broke his leg two weeks ago doing martial arts and now she can spend more time on the doorsteps because he’s at home all the time to mind the children.

Glamorous

They posed beside the car when the Taoiseach arrived. A small child was wedged in the passenger door.

This was probably to stop Mitchell from getting near the wheel, in case she might drive it over something she shouldn’t. People still remember her driving her car across the Leinster House plinth on her first day in the Dáil.

Mary looked very glamorous in a cerise pink coat and bejewelled turban. A Fine Gael lady called her over when they went inside. “I love your style,” she said.

Among the supporters, lots of babies were kissed. “She was screaming for hours,” said grandmother Dorothy Blain, holding a sleeping five-month-old Matilda Macken. “I think he put a spell on her.”

All the candidates spoke, Alan Shatter at some length, before a red-faced Taoiseach got stuck into his attack on Sinn Féin.

The candidates stayed on message about the recovery and the need to support working families and middle-income earners.

Mountains

“We have a mountain to climb to get two candidates in both constituencies in. We need to go across that mountain, behind the mountain, under the mountain and over the mountain,” cried Josepha Madigan.

With the Taoiseach bellowing, the young mothers in the alcove had to raise their voices to hear themselves speak. And the babies, as very small babies do, cried.

A Fine Gael activist tip-toed over to them. Words were quietly exchanged.

At the end of the speeches, the young mothers fired up their buggies and left.

“She asked us to quieten down a little,” fumed one of them.

So no, they wouldn’t be voting Fine Gael.