Leo, once king of the jungle, is back out knocking on the doors with councillor cubs
Varadkar greeted warmly as he props up new generation
Leo Varadkar is Leo the canvasser. Some people fall out of their standing when he arrives at doors in a background role behind the candidate.
Their eyes turn to the silent former taoiseach as Steve O’Reilly, an eminently presentable Dublin West councillor, makes his pitch for election.
Leo’s strange role as spear-carrier is then to smilingly proffer a European elections leaflet and request a vote for Regina Doherty.
“She’s very good. I had her in my first Cabinet,” says the man who, until March, was at the top of the tree in Irish politics.
But trees are top of the agenda at the first stop of the evening, with Cllr Ted Leddy in Castleknock, where Ashleigh residents are aggrieved.
It’s proposed to fell some of the trees screening their lovely green. It will enable a temporary road for a major engineering project.
All the bridges along this stretch of the Royal Canal have to be lifted by one foot to enable Dart carriages to pass under when Dublin’s light rail is extended.
The residents of 64 houses say they have an alternative proposal, involving a ramp and temporary hardstand. They fear a permanent “temporary” road.
Chris Kelly, who worked on HS2 – the high-speed rail link partly abandoned in Britain – has an engineering background and suspects an ulterior motive.
“I can see the basis for the suspicion,” Leo tells the knot of 20 people, where the contributions are reasoned. Cllr Leddy is across it all.
Then it’s out to Brookhaven, one of the sprawling suburbs of northwest Dublin, to a ward consisting of estates north of the N3 to Navan.
Cllr O’Reilly is from that town. His family have lived in nearby Hollystown for years. He was co-opted into the seat of Punam Rane when the councillor moved to Kimmage/Rathmines.
Aged 29, he has his patter down, but Leo is a big-gun boost on the doors.
Declan, who is “only back from holidays”, is at one of the first houses.
He’s making no promises: “I’ll decide in a few weeks.”
Not many weeks left to June 7. Next is Scott Allan from Brisbane, who has an Irish love interest. He’s initially talking rugby with Leo, who was in the second row for King’s Hospital.
But things go awry when they start to talk politics.
Another voter challenges: “When are you going to get that M50 fixed?”
It turns out to be a complaint about congestion.
“You can never have enough roads,” murmurs Leo – and Eamon Ryan’s ears must have been burning.
Myra Dowling, Fergal Sweeney and Catherine Colmes come into the street to meet Leo.
“We loved him since the Covid,” says Myra, adding: “I remember him canvassing 20 years ago, down at The Bell (pub).”
Another fan thinks him very svelte as he steers candidate Steve around.
Someone with a “Gaeilge agus Fáilte” sticker on her porch is actually not so welcoming. “Not interested. Slán,” she says.
Dennis Abbey is impressed with the Snugborough Road interchange. The number-one vote? “You can count on it.”
Leo explains that sunny weather makes people more chatty. Two ladies are all about law-and-order.
“There has to be seen to be a deterrent for being a bogey,” one says.
Another punter comes out with an accidental classic.
“I won’t vote Sinn Féin, but their canvass is like a military operation.” Everyone laughs.
One man complains about faded road markings. “It’s a head-on collision waiting to happen.”
A woman comes out rubbing her hands with her apron. “I’m in the middle of dinner.” A beautiful aroma wafts out to the vote-hungry team.
A woman complains about anti-social behaviour while her Jack Russell Sammy sniffs out the candidate.
And so it goes... into a passport problem, a school-bus issue, boyos doing wheelies. Nuts and bolts of local politics.
One thing is clear – they’re all glad of their democracy when they have an ex-taoiseach humbly calling to the door.