Mise Eire
This should be cliched, but in all the times I’ve flown into Ireland it’s never happened before. Not to music.
Woke up as the plane tilted into its descent to Dublin. I’d long missed the Aer Lingus breakfast, and was aching for tea and grease on my lips. My headphones were still on and Sean O Riada’s Mise Eire was playing as I looked across from the seats in the centre of the Airbus to see north County Dublin below.
We were landing in minutes. They never asked for the headphones back. The televisions were folded away but the ‘radio’ continued. Mise Eire escorted me all the way down into the grey wet misty Dublin.
If you’re familiar with the tune - and you should be - you’ll know how it moves up and down through loud and quiet moments. And so it was synchronized with my landing, building to a climax as the wheels hit concrete.
And still the audio continued, and I alone with headphones on listened to Ireland’s greatest composer take me down the runway and finish right on cue, a big finish naturally, to raised orange batons, as we taxied into position and parked at the terminal. Positively cinematic.
And outside in the rain and cold, I was wonderfully stupid in shorts and t-shirt. The captain said it would warm up later in the day. He was wrong. It rained harder. Home.
See Also:
• Do You Listen to Irish Music (Really)?
• Irish Press Banned as Irish Independence Revoked
• Irish Music Charts and Bandwagon
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