Tipping Point: Snow fell, and Ireland’s endorphin ATMs shut down
Think of the blood not pumped and heads not cleared in a weekend without sport
Cabin fever: sport in Ireland didn’t exist this weekend. That’s once-in-a-lifetime stuff. Photograph: Niall Carson/PA
The tundra does strange things to a man. Out here in the ice caps of Dublin 11 you find yourself with a lot of thinking time as you tackle the snowdrift on your garden path. Mostly, you’re thinking, Oh, right, so this is what manual labour feels like; well done on all those years of avoiding it.
The snow is still falling. Except now it’s falling as rain. As in, it’s raining. This is Ireland again, so of course it’s raining. Sleeting, to put a fine point on it.