Googleland high-flyers make a big splash with their hi-jinks in the sun
THE techie blow-ins of Googleland around the Grand Canal dock must have been choking on their quinoa salad.
No one said a word.
They just knew.
The natives were back – and they were going to swim come hell or high water or E-coli bugs when the sun shone.
You can plonk the world's biggest tech companies in the middle of Dublin.
You can attract the brightest minds, the cash-rich next generation of techies.
But the hardy young guys and gals, native to the inner city are still the real deal.
And they aren't shy about letting the rest of us know it.
They splashed, took sprinting dive bombs and piled head first into the shimmering basin letting out screams of pleasure as the rest of us watched on.
We were jealous of the chutzpah and it has to be said, physical bravery and their obvious comfort in their raw physicality
It would be heaven for any teen.
Throw in hundreds of your mates and the opposite sex in neon Penny's bikinis and you've got the ingredients for a party right there.
Those stuck up in the glass office towers for most of the day were staring out at the sunshine, looking at their watches till the clock struck one and they could get out for one hour of rays.
"How on earth can they afford all the wetsuits?"
"Lidl," said my lunch date, "they're doing deals at the moment."
At 16 or 17, the boys had the bodies of elite athletes. Perfectly chiselled six packs were too many to count.
The following morning I awoke to the clip-clop of hooves outside my bedroom window.
My eyes sprung open. "Horses?" I could barely bring myself to say it.
I tore the curtains open.
It was the mounted gardai. The forces had been called in.
Supposedly jumping off Bolands Mill, and an injury when someone fell on the private rooftop spoilt it for the rest of the crowd.
Eventually, it was bound to happen.
I was jealous of the kids and sorry the guards were called in.
I loved the devil may care attitude, the genuine crack and their physical ease.