Across the platform to the right masses of brilliant tall Red Hot Poker blooms flame a vivid scarlet parallel to the tracks as though fallen sparks of the blushing sun settling into the western horizon from which the Rosslare boat train will soon emerge. To the left rises the station house, the ticket office and waiting room. Beyond are various stores and outbuildings and sidings, together with a high water-tank evoking the recently ended era of steam. Across the line is the green-painted quaint signal box to which access was obtained by a steep wooden stairs adorned with its cluster of wild bees beside the doorway humming drowsily in the gentle early evening warmth of summertime. To the right, a set of red and white gates guard the level-crossing over the Dungarvan road. Between them and the signal-box, the curious gantry of a hand-cranked crane stands sentinel over the opposite platform. It won so many awards in its day for its bright neatness and well-kept presentation. Countless trains came and went there over the years and are now gone forever.
