Friday, July 17, 1998
The preparations begin early, crowds gather and the excitement mounts. Suddenly there’s a flash of color, a burst of noise, and then it’s gone again, leaving people slightly unsure of what they’ve just seen. So it is that cyclists fly by as you watch from the side of the road, and so it is that the Tour de France leaves Ireland after three memorable days.
Wednesday, March 18, 1998
Early morning in the Phoenix Park, and the mist sits on the tops of the trees, swirling around the stark white papal cross. From the ruined magazine fort you can see Dublin rising through the haze—the red neon of the sign on the Guinness brewery, the green dome of Rathmines church and the distant slim striped chimneys of the power station in Ringsend. Off to the south, the gray curves of the mountains watch over the city.