A ‘golden ticket’ to grandeur

A BERTH on the Titanic was a golden ticket.

Every decent town in Ireland in 1912 had a shipping agent hawking tickets for the ocean liner. Honeymooners lined up to get on board.

In modern terms Geoff Tibballs, the editor of Voices from the Titanic, compares it to getting a seat at London’s Olympic stadium in August for the final of the men’s 100 metres sprint. It was rigged with all kinds of splendours, including a “swimming pond”, Turkish baths, promenades and a palm court veranda.