The Poles that “Saved” Dublin – Rathmines

So, off I go for a walk before the Armageddon of the Beast from the East and the Storm Emma starts in Dublin this evening. The main roads are fine, but for everything else skates would do. If there was no wind and occasional cars driving slowly, all would be too quiet.

Snowmen, some sad, some merry, watch the sporadic passers-by and the trees that timidly started blossoming in the recent weeks, must have regretted it. Lost scarfs and a shoe placed on the fences by benevolent people.

A few restaurants that are open buzz with people, but shops closed by the early afternoon. Likes of Lidl had empty shelves the night before already so don’t know how interesting their offer could have been this morning. I notice someone entering Polonez, the local Polish shop, where I occasionally buy kefir and never ever queue. I look through the window and can see at least 20-30 people waiting to pay.

It feels like the 80s in Yugoslavia, when we had rations and couldn’t count with buying washing powder, oil, sugar, coffee, chocolate and probably many other things whenever we wanted to. The word would spread in the neighbourhood as soon as something became available in a shop and by the time you reached it, there would be a long, long queue, much longer than this one in Polonez. My grandma would take me with her because each person could buy only certain amount of whatever we were hoping for. So, 2 of us meant double the volume to bring home.

Here, I am not tempted to join the party. I’ve done my bit back in time.

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