When one of your 12 mates who has travelled over to Dublin on Friday evening to help you celebrate 50 years on this crazy planet, loses his entire Curragh racing money within one taxi ride of arrival in the capital, and then goes into brief meltdown because he can blame no one but himself, you start to think that this could be a long weekend.
So we all chip in to recover half of his losses, and the self confined lockdown comes to an end, the rumour that he might be on the next flight back to Brum dissipates and although he refuses to hit the big city Friday night, the rest of us head off for a few, with our trip to the Irish Derby still in tact.
Plenty of chat, with one subject dominant. How at 52 years old ?
Why so much cash ?
Where had he left it ?
Who had it now ? Etc Etc.. You won't see that again we all knew.
Except re-enter the story Mr Martin Kelly , the jovial old cab driver who had picked us up at Terminal 1 earlier on. We had chatted for the entire trip to the Central Hotel about this and that, saying we were off racing in Ireland for my 50th.
So anyway, Mr Kelly, or his next passenger found the clear plastic wallet and at sometime during Friday night the wallet found its way into the Central Hotel safe.
You have got to be kidding ? But no, it was true, and the weekend was saved.
I don't know how to thank Martin personally but maybe you could forward this on to someone who may know him. It wasn't the best taxi I've ever been in but the driver was solid gold.
Also the wonderful staff at the Central Hotel for doing their bit.
Thanks Brian Lynch from Rugby.
Heading to Dublin in September, can't wait. It's been too long!
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