Brendan O'Connor: A man I met once on holiday
A few years ago, on holidays in Portugal, I met a man. He was a startlingly good looking young man, piercing eyes and in great shape. He dressed extremely well too. I say I met him. I didn't really. My kids met him. That's how it is on holidays. You can spend a lifetime determinedly not getting involved with other people on holidays, but once you have kids, you have no choice. They get you involved.
This guy had a baby with him, and obviously a baby was like catnip to my two little girls. Breakfast, at the pool, any opportunity that arose, they were over to the baby. And we would do that thing where you tell the kids to leave the poor people alone, and you look over apologetically, making 'sorry' faces. But this guy and his wife were really nice. They said they didn't mind, and they didn't seem to. They seemed to enjoy how the kids adored the baby and played with him. I tend to judge people on how they are with my younger daughter Mary, and it always struck me that this guy was exceptionally gentle and really lovely with Mary, always dazzled her with his twinkling yes and his smile, and always chatting away to her.
And of course, as you do, we chatted a bit. We talked about the resort, about what the local town was like, any useful information we had picked up about the place, about the food, whatever, maybe the odd mention of things at home. Nothing of substance really. Just that holiday talk you make with people. We knew each other by our first names only. I never asked him what he did for a living, he never asked me.